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The VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX is coming! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Welcome to the Halmae (updated 2/27/07)
- Thread starter spyscribe
- Start date
spyscribe
First Post
Part the Seventh:
In which: the party attacks, the result of which is much moral debate.
Dennis bursts out of the woods into a small clearing. The first thing he notices are signs of a small camp: several tents and a cookfire. The second thing he notices is the man in an apron tending a cookfire, looking surprised as hell. It’s not until third that he notices one of the bandits and the female caster mounting horses to make their escape.
Three of them, one of me, two of them are on horses. Oh sure Anvil, this set-up has “smiting” written all over it…
Suddenly, two more bandits burst out of the woods from another direction.
Dennis draws his weapon in a game attempt at inflicting Kettenek’s Justice and is about to charge, when he sees that the two bandits running at him are immediately followed by Thatch and Reyu, storming out of the woods in pursuit!
“Get ‘em, Bob!” Thatch cries to his mount, and attempts to charge his two mounted foes. But Bob, a farm-horse unused to combat, panics and rears up into the air. Thatch struggles to maintain his balance and calm his mount.
Reyu dashes forward—attempting to cast animal friendship on the woman’s horse. As she gets close, the woman raises her quarterstaff and cracks the Druid over the head. Reyu stumbles back, blinking as the two horses wheel off into the woods.
Thatch has finally managed to dismount, but by the time he finds his feet, the two have already made their getaway. Thatch watches them gallop off, absently stroking Bob’s neck to calm the skittish animal. If I could teach Bob not to be afraid of fighting, they won’t get away next time…
“Don’t hurt me, whatever you do, don’t hurt me! Please!”
The three members of the party turn to where the man with the apron has dropped his cooking spoon and put his hands in the air.
The two more classically bandit-looking bandits appear less sanguine about the prospect of being apprehended, but with the departure of their boss, they seem at a loss whether to maintain the fight or attempt to follow. Obviously, this was not part of the plan.
They wisely choose surrender. Dennis takes their weapons and secures them.
By the time the rest of the party—including Edmund and the wagon—arrives on the scene the only tasks that remain are interrogating the prisoners and going through the bandits’ collected swag.
Along with various goods, cash, and gems, items of note are several vials of liquid which glow brightly under Reyu’s detect magic, a blank piece of vellum (probably a used scroll), and a silver holy symbol of Alirria, the goddess of Spring, Air, Rebirth and, presumably, the patron of the woman who was casting at them during the fight.
The holy symbol is unusual, however. Most holy symbols consist of both the symbol the god and the symbol of the specific sect to which its wearer belongs (Lira’s symbol, for example, consists of the symbol of the Questors, overlaid onto the general sun symbol of Ehkt). This symbol, however, contains no sect marking. It is an unadorned symbol of Alirria.
Anvil, meanwhile, has been focusing his attention on the prisoners. “You will answer my questions,” he demands of them.
“Piss off,” one responds.
“You stand accused of banditry. The penalty for this crime is death. The Law does not specify by what means, or over how long a period of time. Answer my questions, and I will request mercy on your behalf when we deliver you to the proper authorities.”
“I said, piss off,” one bandit responds.
The other one coughs nervously. “Um, I’ll talk,” he says.
“Who was that woman?” Anvil demands.
“Boss’s woman. Bad news.”
“Why’s that?”
“You know how it is. Women getting mixed up in business. She was the one as told us you’d be coming.”
“How did she know?”
“How should I know? But she shows up two nights ago and the next morning the Boss tells us a group with some serious cash’ll be along sometime next day. Then there you were.”
This is most worrisome to the party. Toroth told them there were bandits in the area, but there’s no reason they would know the party was coming… unless someone has betrayed them.
However, the most immediate concern is what to do with the prisoners. Obviously, letting them go isn’t really an option. Anvil declares that Kettenek’s Justice would normally demand they be handed over to the local authorities. Unfortunately, the nearest city-state is Dar Und, where the local authorities consist of whichever crime boss happens to be on top that day.
It takes Anvil a beat to register that he is the “local authority.”
The party lacks resources to imprison the bandits or take them back to Dar Pykos, even if this were in a Pykosian jurisdiction. Enslavement is not a popular option with the party members, even if it were at all feasible.
“We might have to execute them,” Anvil finally admits. “They are admitted bandits. Justice demands it.”
At this Dennis, only lately a petty criminal himself, turns slightly gray. Edmund falls uncharacteristically silent. Reyu is disgusted, such punishment being nearly unheard of among her people, but she is well aware this is not her affair.
The cook likes the idea even less, and tells the party his opinion on the matter loudly and at great length.
Eventually, Anvil rules that the cook never took up arms against them, thus neither he nor their informant should be executed. Instead, Anvil uses his holy symbol as a brand so that they might be known by honest folk. Their last living companion, however, is hanged. His body, along with those of the bandits slain in combat, is strung up along the side of the road: a warning to others in the area that would defy Kettenek’s Justice.
During this process, Dennis goes off to gather firewood. Lira sticks around for a while, but having started the day with her first acquaintance with intestines not served as tripe she eventually opts instead to withdraw and retch quietly in the bushes.
The next day, the party resumes the road to the Dwarven mines.
In which: the party attacks, the result of which is much moral debate.
Dennis bursts out of the woods into a small clearing. The first thing he notices are signs of a small camp: several tents and a cookfire. The second thing he notices is the man in an apron tending a cookfire, looking surprised as hell. It’s not until third that he notices one of the bandits and the female caster mounting horses to make their escape.
Three of them, one of me, two of them are on horses. Oh sure Anvil, this set-up has “smiting” written all over it…
Suddenly, two more bandits burst out of the woods from another direction.
Dennis draws his weapon in a game attempt at inflicting Kettenek’s Justice and is about to charge, when he sees that the two bandits running at him are immediately followed by Thatch and Reyu, storming out of the woods in pursuit!
“Get ‘em, Bob!” Thatch cries to his mount, and attempts to charge his two mounted foes. But Bob, a farm-horse unused to combat, panics and rears up into the air. Thatch struggles to maintain his balance and calm his mount.
Reyu dashes forward—attempting to cast animal friendship on the woman’s horse. As she gets close, the woman raises her quarterstaff and cracks the Druid over the head. Reyu stumbles back, blinking as the two horses wheel off into the woods.
Thatch has finally managed to dismount, but by the time he finds his feet, the two have already made their getaway. Thatch watches them gallop off, absently stroking Bob’s neck to calm the skittish animal. If I could teach Bob not to be afraid of fighting, they won’t get away next time…
“Don’t hurt me, whatever you do, don’t hurt me! Please!”
The three members of the party turn to where the man with the apron has dropped his cooking spoon and put his hands in the air.
The two more classically bandit-looking bandits appear less sanguine about the prospect of being apprehended, but with the departure of their boss, they seem at a loss whether to maintain the fight or attempt to follow. Obviously, this was not part of the plan.
They wisely choose surrender. Dennis takes their weapons and secures them.
By the time the rest of the party—including Edmund and the wagon—arrives on the scene the only tasks that remain are interrogating the prisoners and going through the bandits’ collected swag.
Along with various goods, cash, and gems, items of note are several vials of liquid which glow brightly under Reyu’s detect magic, a blank piece of vellum (probably a used scroll), and a silver holy symbol of Alirria, the goddess of Spring, Air, Rebirth and, presumably, the patron of the woman who was casting at them during the fight.
The holy symbol is unusual, however. Most holy symbols consist of both the symbol the god and the symbol of the specific sect to which its wearer belongs (Lira’s symbol, for example, consists of the symbol of the Questors, overlaid onto the general sun symbol of Ehkt). This symbol, however, contains no sect marking. It is an unadorned symbol of Alirria.
Anvil, meanwhile, has been focusing his attention on the prisoners. “You will answer my questions,” he demands of them.
“Piss off,” one responds.
“You stand accused of banditry. The penalty for this crime is death. The Law does not specify by what means, or over how long a period of time. Answer my questions, and I will request mercy on your behalf when we deliver you to the proper authorities.”
“I said, piss off,” one bandit responds.
The other one coughs nervously. “Um, I’ll talk,” he says.
“Who was that woman?” Anvil demands.
“Boss’s woman. Bad news.”
“Why’s that?”
“You know how it is. Women getting mixed up in business. She was the one as told us you’d be coming.”
“How did she know?”
“How should I know? But she shows up two nights ago and the next morning the Boss tells us a group with some serious cash’ll be along sometime next day. Then there you were.”
This is most worrisome to the party. Toroth told them there were bandits in the area, but there’s no reason they would know the party was coming… unless someone has betrayed them.
However, the most immediate concern is what to do with the prisoners. Obviously, letting them go isn’t really an option. Anvil declares that Kettenek’s Justice would normally demand they be handed over to the local authorities. Unfortunately, the nearest city-state is Dar Und, where the local authorities consist of whichever crime boss happens to be on top that day.
It takes Anvil a beat to register that he is the “local authority.”
The party lacks resources to imprison the bandits or take them back to Dar Pykos, even if this were in a Pykosian jurisdiction. Enslavement is not a popular option with the party members, even if it were at all feasible.
“We might have to execute them,” Anvil finally admits. “They are admitted bandits. Justice demands it.”
At this Dennis, only lately a petty criminal himself, turns slightly gray. Edmund falls uncharacteristically silent. Reyu is disgusted, such punishment being nearly unheard of among her people, but she is well aware this is not her affair.
The cook likes the idea even less, and tells the party his opinion on the matter loudly and at great length.
Eventually, Anvil rules that the cook never took up arms against them, thus neither he nor their informant should be executed. Instead, Anvil uses his holy symbol as a brand so that they might be known by honest folk. Their last living companion, however, is hanged. His body, along with those of the bandits slain in combat, is strung up along the side of the road: a warning to others in the area that would defy Kettenek’s Justice.
During this process, Dennis goes off to gather firewood. Lira sticks around for a while, but having started the day with her first acquaintance with intestines not served as tripe she eventually opts instead to withdraw and retch quietly in the bushes.
The next day, the party resumes the road to the Dwarven mines.
spyscribe
First Post
Part the Eighth:
In which: The party reaches the Dwarven mines.
The first thing the party notices is the sound, a low level rumble of activity, punctuated by the occasional >CLANG!< of metal on rock.
Rounding a bend in the road, the party begins to notice sentries—several Dwarves, armed with axes and crossbows, watching them from behind an embankment. The Dwarves wave them along the road with little comment.
The Stoneshaper Mines soon come into view, an enormous encampment outside a gaping hole in the side of a low hill, disappearing deep into the bowels of the earth.
Dozens of Dwarven teamsters load cargo into horse-drawn wagons, while others unload chests from carts coming out of the mines, pulled by massive, ox-sized lizards. Reyu is amused to note that the lizards are kept upwind of the horses.
The party is greeted with caution, but no hostility, and Gurn Stoneshaper is soon sent out to meet them.
“Alexandra sent you?”
The party nods.
“I won’t sell.”
“Why not?” Reyu asks.
Gurn harruphs. “Wizards and their unnatural experiments.” (Lira elbows Edmund hard to keep him quiet). “I’ll be no part of that.”
“But if you didn’t want to get involved with wizards, why did you agree to sell to her in the first place?” Reyu persists.
“I didn’t know what she was planning to do with it.”
Lira, hoping it will help their case, switches to Dwarven. “What was that?”
Gurn blinks, surprised by either the language switch or the question. “Don’t you know?”
“We’ve just been hired to carry out a transaction, we’re neutral parties here.”
“She was going to… she was going to grind it up into powder.” The Dwarf has difficulty even saying the words. “A beautiful diamond, flawless and she was going to… ignorant humans.”
All eyes turn to Edmund. “But...but...but,” he splutters, “but that's preposterous! Why would she possibly want to pulverize it? Of course, diamond dust is useful in certain spells, but you use small stones for that. They're much cheaper. Only an idiot would think she would pay 1500 gold for a diamond only to crush it to bits!” Gurn scowls at the implied insult, and Lira elbows Edmund again to get him to stop “helping.”
The Party is eventually able to convince Gurn of the logic of this argument, and Edmund offers to swear profuse oaths that the diamond will be kept intact. The party manages to stop him before he promises anything too drastic.
They then ask Gurn why he thought Professor Alexandra was going to destroy the diamond.
“Well, a little while after I send word I found the stone, a woman shows up, human. She was the one who told me what the Professor was going to do.”
“Just a random woman?”
“No, she’d been here once before… maybe a year ago.”
“Was she warning you about wizards then, too?”
“No. She’d come to make a purchase. Nothing exciting, some small, cheap precious stones. Little bit of just about everything that comes out of this mine.”
“Why did you believe her when she told you about the Professor?”
The Dwarf considers. “Well, now that you mention it, it is a bit odd, but she just seemed like someone you should trust. Nice girl.”
Reyu pulls out the piece of vellum the party found among the bandits’ gear. “Did she read something to you, maybe off something like this?”
Gurn runs one hand through his beard. “Yeah, why?”
Reyu and Lira exchange a look. The look says: scroll of charm person.
Gurn takes the news that he was likely the subject of a mind-affecting spell fairly well. Feeling rather bad about the whole affair he agrees to send the diamond back to Professor Alexandra with the party, for the original price he and the Professor agreed upon, despite Alexandra’s offer of an additional 500 gp. As conversation turns to less contentious matters, Reyu asks one last question:
“This human woman, did she only come to warn you about Professor Alexandra?”
Gurn considers. “No… she was also looking for some onyx.”
“Did you sell it to her?”
The dwarf shakes his head. “She was after one really large piece; we didn’t have anything like that.” He shrugs. “We don’t get a lot of onyx here. I told her she’d have better luck in the Ironroot mines, or maybe in the Forgefire mines, up near Dar Thane.”
Lira jumps in. “Did she say what her purpose was?”
“No. Just that she needed a big chunk onyx for it.”
Gurn lacks any more information on the mysterious woman, but he offers the party a tour of the mines, which are not only a marvel of engineering, but gorgeous as well. A series of solid tunnels leads to a network of huge caverns hundreds of feet tall. The walls are covered with scaffolding, where hundreds of Dwarven miners work, the >tink, tink< of their picks echoing off rock faces that sparkle in the reflected lights of dozens of torches.
Although the Dwarves invite the party to dine with them, they politely decline the always tempting option of stewed lizard and instead opt to cook for themselves.
Most of the party does try some of the fabled Dwarven ale, although only Thatch and Lira are able to drink it without suffering extended fits of mixed coughing and gagging. Lira’s head for ale coupled with her fluent Dwarven make her very popular with their hosts.
“Are you sure you have no Dwarven blood?” one of the miners asks as Lira finishes her second mug.
“Not that I know of,” she replies with a smile.
“Well, she’s short enough,” someone in the party mutters, but in the crowd and noise of dinner no one can tell who.
In which: The party reaches the Dwarven mines.
The first thing the party notices is the sound, a low level rumble of activity, punctuated by the occasional >CLANG!< of metal on rock.
Rounding a bend in the road, the party begins to notice sentries—several Dwarves, armed with axes and crossbows, watching them from behind an embankment. The Dwarves wave them along the road with little comment.
The Stoneshaper Mines soon come into view, an enormous encampment outside a gaping hole in the side of a low hill, disappearing deep into the bowels of the earth.
Dozens of Dwarven teamsters load cargo into horse-drawn wagons, while others unload chests from carts coming out of the mines, pulled by massive, ox-sized lizards. Reyu is amused to note that the lizards are kept upwind of the horses.
The party is greeted with caution, but no hostility, and Gurn Stoneshaper is soon sent out to meet them.
“Alexandra sent you?”
The party nods.
“I won’t sell.”
“Why not?” Reyu asks.
Gurn harruphs. “Wizards and their unnatural experiments.” (Lira elbows Edmund hard to keep him quiet). “I’ll be no part of that.”
“But if you didn’t want to get involved with wizards, why did you agree to sell to her in the first place?” Reyu persists.
“I didn’t know what she was planning to do with it.”
Lira, hoping it will help their case, switches to Dwarven. “What was that?”
Gurn blinks, surprised by either the language switch or the question. “Don’t you know?”
“We’ve just been hired to carry out a transaction, we’re neutral parties here.”
“She was going to… she was going to grind it up into powder.” The Dwarf has difficulty even saying the words. “A beautiful diamond, flawless and she was going to… ignorant humans.”
All eyes turn to Edmund. “But...but...but,” he splutters, “but that's preposterous! Why would she possibly want to pulverize it? Of course, diamond dust is useful in certain spells, but you use small stones for that. They're much cheaper. Only an idiot would think she would pay 1500 gold for a diamond only to crush it to bits!” Gurn scowls at the implied insult, and Lira elbows Edmund again to get him to stop “helping.”
The Party is eventually able to convince Gurn of the logic of this argument, and Edmund offers to swear profuse oaths that the diamond will be kept intact. The party manages to stop him before he promises anything too drastic.
They then ask Gurn why he thought Professor Alexandra was going to destroy the diamond.
“Well, a little while after I send word I found the stone, a woman shows up, human. She was the one who told me what the Professor was going to do.”
“Just a random woman?”
“No, she’d been here once before… maybe a year ago.”
“Was she warning you about wizards then, too?”
“No. She’d come to make a purchase. Nothing exciting, some small, cheap precious stones. Little bit of just about everything that comes out of this mine.”
“Why did you believe her when she told you about the Professor?”
The Dwarf considers. “Well, now that you mention it, it is a bit odd, but she just seemed like someone you should trust. Nice girl.”
Reyu pulls out the piece of vellum the party found among the bandits’ gear. “Did she read something to you, maybe off something like this?”
Gurn runs one hand through his beard. “Yeah, why?”
Reyu and Lira exchange a look. The look says: scroll of charm person.
Gurn takes the news that he was likely the subject of a mind-affecting spell fairly well. Feeling rather bad about the whole affair he agrees to send the diamond back to Professor Alexandra with the party, for the original price he and the Professor agreed upon, despite Alexandra’s offer of an additional 500 gp. As conversation turns to less contentious matters, Reyu asks one last question:
“This human woman, did she only come to warn you about Professor Alexandra?”
Gurn considers. “No… she was also looking for some onyx.”
“Did you sell it to her?”
The dwarf shakes his head. “She was after one really large piece; we didn’t have anything like that.” He shrugs. “We don’t get a lot of onyx here. I told her she’d have better luck in the Ironroot mines, or maybe in the Forgefire mines, up near Dar Thane.”
Lira jumps in. “Did she say what her purpose was?”
“No. Just that she needed a big chunk onyx for it.”
Gurn lacks any more information on the mysterious woman, but he offers the party a tour of the mines, which are not only a marvel of engineering, but gorgeous as well. A series of solid tunnels leads to a network of huge caverns hundreds of feet tall. The walls are covered with scaffolding, where hundreds of Dwarven miners work, the >tink, tink< of their picks echoing off rock faces that sparkle in the reflected lights of dozens of torches.
Although the Dwarves invite the party to dine with them, they politely decline the always tempting option of stewed lizard and instead opt to cook for themselves.
Most of the party does try some of the fabled Dwarven ale, although only Thatch and Lira are able to drink it without suffering extended fits of mixed coughing and gagging. Lira’s head for ale coupled with her fluent Dwarven make her very popular with their hosts.
“Are you sure you have no Dwarven blood?” one of the miners asks as Lira finishes her second mug.
“Not that I know of,” she replies with a smile.
“Well, she’s short enough,” someone in the party mutters, but in the crowd and noise of dinner no one can tell who.
spyscribe
First Post
Part the Ninth:
In which: the plot thickens, Lira makes discoveries regarding Dwarven ale, and Thatch learns why he is not a rogue.
The party sleeps well (some better than others) and the next morning—although not, as Reyu would prefer, at the crack of dawn—they begin their journey back to Dar Pykos.
The trip back is uneventful, and Professor Alexandra is almost as glad to get her diamond as the party is to be rid of Edmund. They do give him a portion of the proceeds of the goods captured from the bandits, along with the used piece of scroll vellum.
“Take it,” Anvil tells him. “Use your magics to discover who created the scroll, so that we might know who has betrayed us.”
“Um… I don’t know if it’s possible—“
Anvil fixes him with a trademark stare. “I have every confidence in you. Now go! Return not until you have an answer.”
With much fluster, Edmund leaves.
Once the young wizard is out of earshot, Lira turns to Anvil. “I don’t think that is possible.”
“No?”
She shakes her head.
“Then he will be able to expand the frontiers of knowledge.”
“And in the mean time he won’t bother us?”
“Kettennek’s Justice works in mysterious ways.”
No one can add anything to that, so the group returns to the temple to see Tenacious.
The senior Justicar is pleased with the success of their mission, but just as disturbed as the party is by their apparent betrayal and ambush on the road. He asks them to follow up on it and see what they can discover.
The party’s first and best clue is the holy symbol of Alirria left behind by the woman with the bandits. Within Dar Pykos there are several major Alirrian sects:
Each sect has a distinctive design for their holy symbols. Naturally, the one that the party found has no such identifying features.
The party tends to suspect that the Protectors—with their rather criminal bent—might have had something to do with their attack. If the group sees arcane magic as unnatural, it makes sense. Of course, that same shady quality means that one cannot simply walk into their chapter-house and ask if they know someone who might have tried to kill the party. (In point of fact, the Protectors do not have a formal presence anywhere, let alone urban areas).
Luckily for the party, Dennis is a gardener, and since having been freed from slavery, he’s made some friends among the Tenders in the city. Dennis meets with one of them, a Sister Rose. She confirms that there is no one answering the woman’s description among her order, and she doesn’t see one of her sistren having a motive to sabotage Professor Alexandra or the Dwarves. She does allow however, that the Protectors might, and cautiously agrees to see if she can arrange a meeting.
That evening, Lira goes to see Devon, her contact among the local Questors, to tell him of her adventures and to see if he has a friend among the Water-walkers. After all, if you’re going out in search of challenges, it’s a good idea to have a map, and no one makes maps like the Water-walkers.
Devon is very interested to hear Lira’s accounts of her latest adventure, and quite impressed when he learns that she likes Dwarven ale. As it happens, he has a small keg, which he promptly taps.
Between the ale and the good company, Lira nearly forgets the primary purpose of her visit. The keg has been drained down to the sludge, (which Devon assures her is the best part and Lira gamely tries), when Lira remembers to ask about Water-walkers.
“This woman, you think she’s one of them?”
“We don’t know. ‘S why we wanna ask.’
“Good plan, that.”
Once the merits of the plan have been decided, Devon remembers that he does have a friend among the Water-walkers. They go to talk to him.
Imagine the boundless joy of Devon’s friend to find two tipsy Questors on his front step.
**********
No, he doesn’t know anyone like the woman they describe among the Water-walkers.
No, he doesn’t know them all, and they do come and go quite a bit, but most of the women don’t wear dresses—not practical for walking through the world.
No, her holy symbol is not particular to his sect or any other.
Yes, he will let Devon know if he hears something, but he’s going to be leaving the city soon, and so doubts it will be of use.
Well, hopefully no great challenges will come his way, but a safe journey to you too, wherever the roads may take you.
**********
Lira stumbles back to Mrs. Blackman’s boarding house where the rest of the party is waiting for her. She falls into a chair holding her head.
“So,” Thatch asks, “what did you find out?”
Lira eyes him balefully. “The sludge is NOT the best part.”
Luckily, Sister Rose has, in the meantime, come through and arranged a meeting with a member of the Protectors at the Fortunate Traveller, a local Alirrian inn.
It is decided that Reyu and Dennis, being the most nature-oriented of the party, will actually talk to the contact while Lira and Thatch will stay in the background to keep an eye on things. Anvil, upon hearing where the meeting will take place decides that once dazed is twice shy, and remains at the Temple to contemplate Justice.
(Note: No, of course Kettenek’s Justice is not cowed by mere cantrips, but Bad Monkey Jeff couldn’t make that session so we gave Anvil the excuse not to tag along.)
Lira and Thatch arrive at the inn first. Thatch orders two bowls of the house stew—quickly amended to one stew, one coffee by Lira—and looks around for the woman the others are supposed to be meeting. He finds her sitting at a back table, where she can keep an eye on the door and the rest of the room. She catches him staring and glares at him. Thatch quickly looks down at his soup. It’s tough to be inconspicuous when you’re nearly seven feet tall.
Reyu and Dennis arrive moments later. They go over to the woman and introduce themselves and their business.
“Why are you looking for this woman?” their contact asks.
Reyu steps in smoothly, “We think we found her holy symbol.”
A skeptical eyebrow arch. “You went to all this trouble, trying to return her holy symbol?”
“There is also some… unfinished business.”
“Oh? What sort of unfinished business?”
“She tried to kill us.”
The woman takes a moment to digest this. “Why would she do something like that?”
“We’re not sure,” Reyu replies evenly. “That’s part of the reason we want to talk to her.”
The other woman considers. “It’s not our way attack civilians without cause. It is true we have crossed paths with the Dwarves, but no true defender of Our Mother’s Gifts would trouble herself merely to impede a sale. If this was unprovoked by violence against her person, or the natural world, she is not acting as one of us.”
“What about the Wizards?” Reyu asks.
The woman blinks, puzzled. “What about them? We have no quarrel with the arcanists, certainly no more than with any other city-dweller.”
Given a description and shown a sketch of the caster with the bandits, the Protector says she doesn’t know anyone matching it. To Reyu and Dennis at least, she seems to be telling the truth.
“You’ll let us know if you hear anything of this woman?” Reyu asks.
The Protector just shoots a glance over at Thatch and Lira on the other side of the room. “Tell your friend over there he’s got a lot to learn about surveillance.”
Reyu and Dennis take this to mean that the interview is over. Seeing as their cover has already been blown, they walk over to where Thatch and Lira are sitting and join them.
“Is she one of them?” Thatch asks.
“No,” Dennis replies, “and this is the last time we send you undercover.”
“So,” says Lira, “she’s not a Protector, or a Water-walker, or a Tender, and gods help us if she’s a Giver, so what does that leave us?”
Dennis looks over at Thatch claps him on the shoulder, and cracks a wide smile. “Off to the Handmaidens!”
Thatch gulps. “Umm?”
to be continued…
In which: the plot thickens, Lira makes discoveries regarding Dwarven ale, and Thatch learns why he is not a rogue.
The party sleeps well (some better than others) and the next morning—although not, as Reyu would prefer, at the crack of dawn—they begin their journey back to Dar Pykos.
The trip back is uneventful, and Professor Alexandra is almost as glad to get her diamond as the party is to be rid of Edmund. They do give him a portion of the proceeds of the goods captured from the bandits, along with the used piece of scroll vellum.
“Take it,” Anvil tells him. “Use your magics to discover who created the scroll, so that we might know who has betrayed us.”
“Um… I don’t know if it’s possible—“
Anvil fixes him with a trademark stare. “I have every confidence in you. Now go! Return not until you have an answer.”
With much fluster, Edmund leaves.
Once the young wizard is out of earshot, Lira turns to Anvil. “I don’t think that is possible.”
“No?”
She shakes her head.
“Then he will be able to expand the frontiers of knowledge.”
“And in the mean time he won’t bother us?”
“Kettennek’s Justice works in mysterious ways.”
No one can add anything to that, so the group returns to the temple to see Tenacious.
The senior Justicar is pleased with the success of their mission, but just as disturbed as the party is by their apparent betrayal and ambush on the road. He asks them to follow up on it and see what they can discover.
The party’s first and best clue is the holy symbol of Alirria left behind by the woman with the bandits. Within Dar Pykos there are several major Alirrian sects:
Each sect has a distinctive design for their holy symbols. Naturally, the one that the party found has no such identifying features.
The party tends to suspect that the Protectors—with their rather criminal bent—might have had something to do with their attack. If the group sees arcane magic as unnatural, it makes sense. Of course, that same shady quality means that one cannot simply walk into their chapter-house and ask if they know someone who might have tried to kill the party. (In point of fact, the Protectors do not have a formal presence anywhere, let alone urban areas).
Luckily for the party, Dennis is a gardener, and since having been freed from slavery, he’s made some friends among the Tenders in the city. Dennis meets with one of them, a Sister Rose. She confirms that there is no one answering the woman’s description among her order, and she doesn’t see one of her sistren having a motive to sabotage Professor Alexandra or the Dwarves. She does allow however, that the Protectors might, and cautiously agrees to see if she can arrange a meeting.
That evening, Lira goes to see Devon, her contact among the local Questors, to tell him of her adventures and to see if he has a friend among the Water-walkers. After all, if you’re going out in search of challenges, it’s a good idea to have a map, and no one makes maps like the Water-walkers.
Devon is very interested to hear Lira’s accounts of her latest adventure, and quite impressed when he learns that she likes Dwarven ale. As it happens, he has a small keg, which he promptly taps.
Between the ale and the good company, Lira nearly forgets the primary purpose of her visit. The keg has been drained down to the sludge, (which Devon assures her is the best part and Lira gamely tries), when Lira remembers to ask about Water-walkers.
“This woman, you think she’s one of them?”
“We don’t know. ‘S why we wanna ask.’
“Good plan, that.”
Once the merits of the plan have been decided, Devon remembers that he does have a friend among the Water-walkers. They go to talk to him.
Imagine the boundless joy of Devon’s friend to find two tipsy Questors on his front step.
**********
No, he doesn’t know anyone like the woman they describe among the Water-walkers.
No, he doesn’t know them all, and they do come and go quite a bit, but most of the women don’t wear dresses—not practical for walking through the world.
No, her holy symbol is not particular to his sect or any other.
Yes, he will let Devon know if he hears something, but he’s going to be leaving the city soon, and so doubts it will be of use.
Well, hopefully no great challenges will come his way, but a safe journey to you too, wherever the roads may take you.
**********
Lira stumbles back to Mrs. Blackman’s boarding house where the rest of the party is waiting for her. She falls into a chair holding her head.
“So,” Thatch asks, “what did you find out?”
Lira eyes him balefully. “The sludge is NOT the best part.”
Luckily, Sister Rose has, in the meantime, come through and arranged a meeting with a member of the Protectors at the Fortunate Traveller, a local Alirrian inn.
It is decided that Reyu and Dennis, being the most nature-oriented of the party, will actually talk to the contact while Lira and Thatch will stay in the background to keep an eye on things. Anvil, upon hearing where the meeting will take place decides that once dazed is twice shy, and remains at the Temple to contemplate Justice.
(Note: No, of course Kettenek’s Justice is not cowed by mere cantrips, but Bad Monkey Jeff couldn’t make that session so we gave Anvil the excuse not to tag along.)
Lira and Thatch arrive at the inn first. Thatch orders two bowls of the house stew—quickly amended to one stew, one coffee by Lira—and looks around for the woman the others are supposed to be meeting. He finds her sitting at a back table, where she can keep an eye on the door and the rest of the room. She catches him staring and glares at him. Thatch quickly looks down at his soup. It’s tough to be inconspicuous when you’re nearly seven feet tall.
Reyu and Dennis arrive moments later. They go over to the woman and introduce themselves and their business.
“Why are you looking for this woman?” their contact asks.
Reyu steps in smoothly, “We think we found her holy symbol.”
A skeptical eyebrow arch. “You went to all this trouble, trying to return her holy symbol?”
“There is also some… unfinished business.”
“Oh? What sort of unfinished business?”
“She tried to kill us.”
The woman takes a moment to digest this. “Why would she do something like that?”
“We’re not sure,” Reyu replies evenly. “That’s part of the reason we want to talk to her.”
The other woman considers. “It’s not our way attack civilians without cause. It is true we have crossed paths with the Dwarves, but no true defender of Our Mother’s Gifts would trouble herself merely to impede a sale. If this was unprovoked by violence against her person, or the natural world, she is not acting as one of us.”
“What about the Wizards?” Reyu asks.
The woman blinks, puzzled. “What about them? We have no quarrel with the arcanists, certainly no more than with any other city-dweller.”
Given a description and shown a sketch of the caster with the bandits, the Protector says she doesn’t know anyone matching it. To Reyu and Dennis at least, she seems to be telling the truth.
“You’ll let us know if you hear anything of this woman?” Reyu asks.
The Protector just shoots a glance over at Thatch and Lira on the other side of the room. “Tell your friend over there he’s got a lot to learn about surveillance.”
Reyu and Dennis take this to mean that the interview is over. Seeing as their cover has already been blown, they walk over to where Thatch and Lira are sitting and join them.
“Is she one of them?” Thatch asks.
“No,” Dennis replies, “and this is the last time we send you undercover.”
“So,” says Lira, “she’s not a Protector, or a Water-walker, or a Tender, and gods help us if she’s a Giver, so what does that leave us?”
Dennis looks over at Thatch claps him on the shoulder, and cracks a wide smile. “Off to the Handmaidens!”
Thatch gulps. “Umm?”
to be continued…
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KidCthulhu
First Post
I'm surprised it took them this long. I mean, who passes up the chance to pump a Handmaiden? Er, for information, that is.
spyscribe
First Post
Part the Tenth:
In which: the party pays a visit to the Temple of the Handmaidens.
The entry-hall of the Handmaidens’ temple has a beautiful stone parquet floor, its highly polished, intricate design meant to be relaxing. The rest of the decor is equally well-done. There are small alters, fine stonework, and high arched ceilings… but to appreciate any of that, Thatch would have to look up from his boots.
Fortunately, Dennis is less awed and embarrassed by his surroundings and is carrying on a quite civil conversation with their hostess. “You’ll have to excuse my young friend here,” he explains, “he is,” Dennis drops his voice to a whisper, which is deliberately still loud enough for Thatch to hear, “inexperienced in these matters.”
“Of course,” the priestess replies. Her name, she has told them, is Lady Lorelei. She speaks politely, with a serenity borne of many seasons’ experience soothing rattled nerves of young worshippers. Her calm demeanor, however, is the only thing which shows her years.
Thatch discovers heretofore undiscovered depths of embarrassment. Dennis ignores him.
“I was wondering, there’s this girl… About so tall, dark hair, about that long…” Dennis describes the woman they are looking for, dredging his mind for details until Lady Lorelei interrupts--
“Oh! You must mean Jelliana. I’m sorry, she left nearly a month ago, and we haven’t seen her. She’s only been here sporadically over the past season. I fear she’s been… distracted lately.”
“Distracted?”
The priestess waves her hand apologetically. “In recent months, she’d begun to talk frequently about the unholy blight of arcane magic and those who practice it. I don’t know where she was getting it from, but she’d become quite radicalized on the subject.”
“When she’s not here, do you know where she goes?” Dennis asks.
“I believe she keeps quarters in the city, but I’m afraid I don’t know where.” She turns to Thatch and smiles. “But I’m sure there’s someone else here who can assist you and your young friend in your worship.”
Thatch manages to find his voice. He turns to Dennis. “Um… if she’s not here, maybe we should, um, just be going?”
Dennis gives him a hearty slap on the back in return. “Nonsense! Don’t worry.”
The priestess reaches out a reassuring hand. Thatch swallows.
**********
“What is taking them so long?” Reyu wonders aloud, as she and Lira wait outside the Temple, watching the ebb and flow of worshippers.
Lira shrugs. “They could be a while.” At Reyu’s questioning glance she adds, “I’ve got older brothers.”
A priest emerges, bidding farewell to a female parishioner, and notices the two women waiting outside. “Can I help you ladies?”
Reyu shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
The priest purses his lips. “If you are not here to worship the goddess, I’m going to have to ask you to move along somewhere else.”
“Why?” Lira wants to know. “Is it illegal to stand around?”
“Well,” the priest begins, “in point of fact…”
Luckily, Reyu catches the priest’s subtext. “Oh, no. We’re not trying to infringe… We’re here with some friends of ours.”
“Ah ha,” says the priest. “Well, you’re welcome to wait for them inside. Or, if you are interested in any form of worship yourselves, our doors are open to all.”
The women do enter, but Thatch and Dennis are nowhere to be seen. Reyu pauses to appreciate the architecture. “It really is quite lovely.”
Lira glances about. “I don’t think that’s what most people are here to admire.”
Reyu rolls her eyes. “Humans have less sense about sex than ferrets,” she mutters, earning a wounded look from Euro, who pokes his head out of Lira’s pocket and surveys his surroundings before giving the mustelid equivalent of a shrug.
Well, she may have a point there, Boss. Ferrets don’t know nuthin’ when it comes to sex. Playing with shiny things, that they got down. But sex? I’m just sayin’, you know.
Lira—blushing—guides Euro back into her pocket. Not for the first time glad that she is the only one who can hear his color commentary.
Reyu catches the arm of a passing acolyte. “Our friends—a very tall young human and an older, shorter man with dirt under his fingernails—when they become available could you please tell them that we will meet them at Mrs. Blackburn’s?”
The acolyte readily agrees and Reyu quickly ushers her companion towards home.
And the night passes uneventfully… more or less.
In which: the party pays a visit to the Temple of the Handmaidens.
The entry-hall of the Handmaidens’ temple has a beautiful stone parquet floor, its highly polished, intricate design meant to be relaxing. The rest of the decor is equally well-done. There are small alters, fine stonework, and high arched ceilings… but to appreciate any of that, Thatch would have to look up from his boots.
Fortunately, Dennis is less awed and embarrassed by his surroundings and is carrying on a quite civil conversation with their hostess. “You’ll have to excuse my young friend here,” he explains, “he is,” Dennis drops his voice to a whisper, which is deliberately still loud enough for Thatch to hear, “inexperienced in these matters.”
“Of course,” the priestess replies. Her name, she has told them, is Lady Lorelei. She speaks politely, with a serenity borne of many seasons’ experience soothing rattled nerves of young worshippers. Her calm demeanor, however, is the only thing which shows her years.
Thatch discovers heretofore undiscovered depths of embarrassment. Dennis ignores him.
“I was wondering, there’s this girl… About so tall, dark hair, about that long…” Dennis describes the woman they are looking for, dredging his mind for details until Lady Lorelei interrupts--
“Oh! You must mean Jelliana. I’m sorry, she left nearly a month ago, and we haven’t seen her. She’s only been here sporadically over the past season. I fear she’s been… distracted lately.”
“Distracted?”
The priestess waves her hand apologetically. “In recent months, she’d begun to talk frequently about the unholy blight of arcane magic and those who practice it. I don’t know where she was getting it from, but she’d become quite radicalized on the subject.”
“When she’s not here, do you know where she goes?” Dennis asks.
“I believe she keeps quarters in the city, but I’m afraid I don’t know where.” She turns to Thatch and smiles. “But I’m sure there’s someone else here who can assist you and your young friend in your worship.”
Thatch manages to find his voice. He turns to Dennis. “Um… if she’s not here, maybe we should, um, just be going?”
Dennis gives him a hearty slap on the back in return. “Nonsense! Don’t worry.”
The priestess reaches out a reassuring hand. Thatch swallows.
**********
“What is taking them so long?” Reyu wonders aloud, as she and Lira wait outside the Temple, watching the ebb and flow of worshippers.
Lira shrugs. “They could be a while.” At Reyu’s questioning glance she adds, “I’ve got older brothers.”
A priest emerges, bidding farewell to a female parishioner, and notices the two women waiting outside. “Can I help you ladies?”
Reyu shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
The priest purses his lips. “If you are not here to worship the goddess, I’m going to have to ask you to move along somewhere else.”
“Why?” Lira wants to know. “Is it illegal to stand around?”
“Well,” the priest begins, “in point of fact…”
Luckily, Reyu catches the priest’s subtext. “Oh, no. We’re not trying to infringe… We’re here with some friends of ours.”
“Ah ha,” says the priest. “Well, you’re welcome to wait for them inside. Or, if you are interested in any form of worship yourselves, our doors are open to all.”
The women do enter, but Thatch and Dennis are nowhere to be seen. Reyu pauses to appreciate the architecture. “It really is quite lovely.”
Lira glances about. “I don’t think that’s what most people are here to admire.”
Reyu rolls her eyes. “Humans have less sense about sex than ferrets,” she mutters, earning a wounded look from Euro, who pokes his head out of Lira’s pocket and surveys his surroundings before giving the mustelid equivalent of a shrug.
Well, she may have a point there, Boss. Ferrets don’t know nuthin’ when it comes to sex. Playing with shiny things, that they got down. But sex? I’m just sayin’, you know.
Lira—blushing—guides Euro back into her pocket. Not for the first time glad that she is the only one who can hear his color commentary.
Reyu catches the arm of a passing acolyte. “Our friends—a very tall young human and an older, shorter man with dirt under his fingernails—when they become available could you please tell them that we will meet them at Mrs. Blackburn’s?”
The acolyte readily agrees and Reyu quickly ushers her companion towards home.
And the night passes uneventfully… more or less.
