GREYHAWK CY 576: GREAT LEGENDS RETOLD -- CAMPAIGN THREAD

"What are you going to teach me today, old man?" Nimbar asked, in a rude, gruff tone. "Whatever it is, it had better be good."

Sir Walter smiled at his young apprentice; he knew that Nimbar was joking, but he also never allowed such comments to go unchallenged. "I'm going to teach you how to kiss the floor with your front teeth, you little cuss!" Sir Walter laughed. "It'll ruin that famous smile of yours that the lasses love so much. But it will teach you to respect your elders!"

Nimbar raised his hands, in a mock, boxing stance. "Let's see you try, old fart!" he taunted, making use of his aforementioned smile.

Sir Walter picked up a wand from his desk, and leveled it at his apprentice. Nimbar laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Hey, no fair using a wand!" he chided.

Sir Walter smiled. "My boy, if there's one piece of advice that I can give you which is more important than any other, it's this: Never bring a knife, or in this case, your fists, to a Wizard's duel."

Nimbar nodded, letting the joke drop. "I hear the Viceroy commissioned a sword from you."

Sir Walter nodded. "Indeed, he did. But I'm going to need a special kind of ore to finish it. The blade will be Dwarven steel, but the cross-guard and pommel need to be made of Rose-Gold Iron Ore. And there's only one place to get it..."

Nimbar's countenance fell, as he realized that he was going to be the gopher on this one. "The Holy Empire of Erypt," he sighed. "Blast it, old man, why so damned far?" he asked.

Sir Walter laughed. "Because you need to get out beyond the gates of this little, rural backwater and see the world, that's why. Besides, it will keep you out of my hair for awhile; these enchantments are going to take several weeks to prepare, and I will need complete solitude for that time, safe from your daily begging and senseless chatter!"

Willip was not small; it was a walled, city-fort, the third-largest settlement in Furyondy. But Nimbar knew better than to challenge Sir Walter on his choice of terminology. Sir Walter had seen many things and visited many places in his lifetime, and if he said Willip was a backwater settlement, then so be it.

But there was one thing standing in the way of the journey: money. Nimbar had a small pool of gold, perhaps a bit more than 200 pieces, set aside for a rainy day, but he had never been the hoarder that his friend Tellerian was. Tellerian had thousands of gold pieces saved up, that he kept in a locked chest in his parent's house. And he was loathe to touch it. Nimbar doubted that Tellerian would loan him the fee for passage, and he knew that his own meager savings would never buy him passage across two oceans.

"How am I going to afford a round-trip ship's passage of that duration?" Nimbar asked.

Sir Walter put his hand into his belt pouch, producing a large, metal medallion on a length of chain. He handed it to Nimbar, and replied, "What do you take me for, boy? A fool? It's going to take you long enough to find the damned ore, without having to endure a 3-month ocean voyage as well. I'm going to send you through a portal. You'll arrive in an instant. That medallion will bring you home, if you speak the command word that's engraved on it. It holds only one charge, so don't you dare activate it before you have the Rose-Gold, do you hear?"

Nimbar stared at the medallion in amazement. He had heard legends of Wizards that could open portals, and travel the world in an instant, but he had never dared to hope that Sir Walter was capable of such a thing. "That's a long way from home, to be traveling alone..." he stammered, giddy with both excitement and uncertainty.

"Take that big lummox with you. He'll be able to keep the sand scarabs off of you during your excursion. I'm sure his parents will be as glad to be rid of him as I am to be rid of you." Sir Walter chuckled. "And yes, before you ask, the medallion has enough power to bring the both of you back; in fact, it will bring you, and any allies of yours within a 30-foot radius back here, to me. So if the two of you manage to acquire some new friends, then all of you can make the trip back, if you like. Ah, I miss my adventuring days. I spent 10 years as a soldier of fortune before joining the army, you know."

Nimbar smiled as he slipped the medallion around his neck, and tucked it underneath his tunic. "Wow, my first trip to a foreign empire," he mused.

"Be careful, boy. They have different customs there. Don't look sideways at, or speak to, any women that you come across. If they're spoken for, their husbands can have you drawn and quartered for your trouble. You'll probably have the best luck mining in the Dragonspine Mountains, in the northwest region of the kingdom."

Nimbar looked quizzically at Sir Walter. "Mining? I thought I was to go somewhere, and purchase the ore?" he asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

Sir Walter chuckled. "No, no, no, no, my boy. You won't get a fair price in the markets, and I also doubt that you'll find sufficient quantities for sale, even if the price WAS reasonable. But there's one saving grace to it all; the Kobolds that dwell in the Dragonspine Mountains are known to mine it extensively. They use it to make all of their tools, armor, and weaponry. If you can find a tribe of Dragonspine Kobolds, you can bet there will be Rose-Gold Iron Ore nearby. Since their refinement methods are crude, I would think bringing back 4 or 5 swords, or 5 or 6 spear heads would be enough for my purposes, or perhaps two big shields. But beware, unlike the Kobolds in this part of the world, Dragonspine Kobolds are vicious, and formidable. That's another reason you'll want that oaf, Tellerian, along. It will take a fair amount of muscle to trounce them. That's right up his alley."

Nimbar laughed. "He did say that he wanted to start adventuring, and that we should form a team, and earn our fortunes together. This will probably excite him. He wants to call our adventuring-group-to-be 'The Brothers of War and Justice'; I think that I shall endeavor to talk him out of that, though. It doesn't flow easily off the tongue. We need to think of a catchier name. What was the name of the adventuring group that you used to belong to?"

Sir Walter replied, "The Firebrands. That group still exists, you know. When I was with them, the leader was a Wizard named Morgan Kvar. Nowadays, his youngest son, Kelvin, who is also a Wizard, leads the group. It's become something of a 'family business,' so-to-speak."

Nimbar nodded. "Now that's a catchy name. It has a lot of style. That's the kind of name we need to have."

Sir Walter nodded in agreement, as Nimbar continued his thought, "Ok, old man, a promise is a promise. I will bring you the Rose-Gold. Give me a day to sober up the big ox and to pack my things."

Nimbar was indeed correct; Tellerian was very accepting of the idea, and anxious to embark on an adventure of such magnitude. The idea of being a world traveler appealed to the big warrior; Tellerian did indeed need sobering up, but once that was done, both of them were packed and ready within the space of an hour. Sir Walter was pleased that they made it to his tower before sunset.

"Nimbar, Tellerian, I'm glad that neither of you tarried long. I am sending you to a fortress, which lies in the Northwestern region of Erypt, by the name of Caitu-Alam, which is the rough equivalent of 'Castellan' in our tongue. It literally means 'Keep of the Governor.' The keep sits at the edge of the Dragonspine Mountains, and will make an excellent base camp for your excursions against the Kobolds. Are you ready then? Let's be about it."

Sir Walter walked to the corner of the room, and pulled the cloth cover off of a large, full-length dressing mirror. Without saying a word, he closed his eyes in concentration, and tilted his head slightly backward, as he waved his right hand in front of it. The image of a road, winding through a sparsely-vegetated plains area appeared in its surface, and in the distance, a walled keep could be seen, and far beyond it, the foot of what could only be the Dragonspine Mountains.

"You have but to step through the mirror, my boys, and you will arrive on the road to the keep. I have chosen a time of day when the road is sparsely traveled, to avoid alarming the local populace. Despite the presence of green vegetation, the place you are going is very arid, and dry, because of its proximity to the desert. What little greenery there is, exists because of the annual flooding of a nearby river. I guess my point is that you should take precautions to prevent being baked in the sun. And here, buy a couple of camels from the keep's inner corral. You'll need them."

Sir Walter hands a bag of coins to Nimbar, and without further ceremony, shoos the both of them through the mirror's portal. Nimbar and Tellerian instantly find themselves standing in the middle of the road, looking toward the keep. The pair nod knowingly at each other, and begin walking, coming to a stop outside the gate, where a line has formed to petition for entry.

Two gate guards, wearing white robes and turbans, and holding long spears, collect a gate fee from all who enter. The fee seems to be a single silver piece per person. Tellerian retrieves two silver coins from his belt pouch, and hands them to Nimbar, who is ahead of him in line.

In front of Nimbar, Tellerian notices a tall youth, leading a camel, apparently traveling alone, which is somewhat strange, considering the keep's proximity to tribes of hostile humanoids. The thought occurs to him that perhaps the boy is an adventurer, like he and Nimbar.

Tellerian whispers to Nimbar, "I wonder what set of circumstances led to this boy traveling alone?"

Nimbar frowns at Tellerian's rudeness, "Who taught you how to whisper? Mind your own business, I'm sure he's fine."

"But he's not even armed..." Tellerian notes.

Nimbar rolls his eyes, wondering when the boy will turn around and tell his loudmouth friend to shut his trap.

No More the Spectral Lynx

Tellerian Hawke said:

In front of Nimbar, Tellerian notices a tall youth, leading a camel, apparently traveling alone, which is somewhat strange, considering the keep's proximity to tribes of hostile humanoids. The thought occurs to him that perhaps the boy is an adventurer, like he and Nimbar.

Tellerian whispers to Nimbar, "I wonder what set of circumstances led to this boy traveling alone?"

Nimbar frowns at Tellerian's rudeness, "Who taught you how to whisper? Mind your own business, I'm sure he's fine."

"But he's not even armed..." Tellerian notes.

Nimbar rolls his eyes, wondering when the boy will turn around and tell his loudmouth friend to shut his trap.

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The young man could not fail to hear the words of the two behind him. The fact that the tops of his ears had long ago been cropped had no effect on his hearing. It did, however, give further credence to the enigma of his existence, could his features have been seen under the desert garment.

The young man was dressed in the full over-robe common to the caravaners who traveled across the open sands of the driest desert. It was fully white and billowy, blowing with the slightest of breezes. His head and face were completely covered with a like-made, white abaya. His stature and movement betrayed him as a young man. He reached up with a right hand to calm the camel at his side. The hand was alabaster white marred at the wrist by a reddish-purple abrasion, indicating that this young soul had recently been a slave, a practice not uncommon in this land, yet only really promulgated by the Scarlet Brotherhood to the East. Had he been a thief, the hand, itself, would have been missing from the end of the wrist.

The wide sleeves of the cooling garment allowed for the young man to easily reach inside to the more closely fitting and functional clothing, underneath. A breeze clipped the garment around his legs, showing that he wore the loose white pantaloons of the desert people tied above the tops of a pair of fairly well-made dark leather boots. The knee-high boots were laced in such a manner to indicate that they were a bit large for their wearer.

He thought back over the past few days. Two days across the burning desert, he had allowed the camel to have its own head and this where it had lead him. Most people do not give camels enough credit for their memory of where they had been watered. Chained to the sleeping camel with a shackle about his right wrist, the necromancer who had held him captive for five years, the man who had cropped his ears, had no idea of the lad's affinity with animals. He had been chained by both wrists or chained to physical objects until the pion tomb raider had no such secure object by which to chain him. He figured the large heavy camel would be secure enough.

It only took the one mistake. The camel looked at him as the picked shackle fell loose. The young man did not even need to speak a single word. He made no sound at all. He placed his left hand upon the sitting animal and it laid its head back down to sleep. The long dagger was hidden on the other side of the mount. The petty wizard had no chance as the silent lad stabbed it straight through his throat while he slept. The fool should have set some magical deterrence. The lad had to wait until first light to strip the man and confiscate his belongings. He left the body, naked, in the desert for the vultures. There was no telling how many corpses had found there final destination in that barren waste.

The young man spoke to the the gate guards in the tongue of an Eryptian. The inflection and accent were right, but the voice, though masculine, was a bit too melodic and smooth. An acute student of linguistics would have wagered it to be an Elven voice, another enigma. He spoke through the cloth covering his face, refusing to use gesture or use body language as he conveyed his thoughts. He was explaining to the guards that his people had been captured by a tribe of the horsemen who preyed upon the less armed tribes to sell them for slaves. He, alone, had managed to escape and was hoping to sell some the wares to gain passage to the Keep in order to purchase food and refreshment.

With the typical lack of concern born to gate guards who hated their jobs, and often their lives, the guards motioned for him to step aside, to make way for paying customers; he then switched to the common trade tongue in a deliberate use to have others waiting in line to hear him. "I have recently escaped capture of slavers. I do not have the gate fee. I need to trade for it or sell some wares to enter. I am one man looking for food and drink. I have had enough trouble and do not wish for more."

Getting Through The Gate

Sphynx: The gate guards, unsympathetic to your plight, look directly past you, as if you weren't even there. Their arrogance is stifling.

Tellerian hands Nimbar a third silver coin. Nimbar smiles, and says to the guards, in the Common trade tongue, loud enough for Sphynx to hear, "Here is his fee, and ours as well. Has the mercy of Re-Horakhty diminished so much in my father's lifetime, that persons of privilege, such as yourselves, would turn away a young man with such ready disdain, without allowing him to prove the truth of his words?"

The guards frown at Nimbar, but noticing Tellerian's stern gaze, decide not to make an issue of it. They mumble something in Eryptian as they motion all three of you through the gate.

Sphynx Greets his new Friends

Sphynx nods to the men and smiles behind the cloth covering his face. He accompanies them through the gate, leading his camel. Once inside the Keep, he removes the billowy cloak, folds it, and places it in a pouch upon the camel.

He is still dressed in a loose fitting white garments, common to desert nomads. It can now be seen that the top of his white, cotton pantaloons and the bottom of his white, cotton tunic are fastened about his waist by a wide, very well-made, black, leather belt. The belt contains many pouches and looks to be decorated with metal bars and feathers. Those, however, are not decoration. They are evenly spaced darts. The large darts, ten to be exact, are long enough to kill a small animal when thrown and could cause harm to a man as well. The pommel of a long dagger sticks from the top of his right boot. Underneath the loose, long, sleeves of his tunic, his forearms are bound with leather bracers. The bracers do not quite hide the obvious abrasion on his right wrist.

He unfurls the abaya from his face, though leaving his head covered and faces the two men, who can now affirm that he is indeed a lad. He reaches into a pouch upon his belt and pulls forth a silver coin, handing it to Nimbar. He speaks in the common tongue. "I am called Sphynx. I had the gate fee, of course, but why pay the asking price without an attempt at negotiation? Perhaps I can buy you fellows a drink as recompense for your kindness."

It is a rhetorical question. He switches to Eryptian. "Hal tatahadath al'Eryptian?"

He looks at their faces. "No matter. The guards are petty and racists as would be expected. They called you names and criticized your deed. They plan to keep an eye on you while you are here. I was explaining to them that I have escaped slavers. The exact details, I fabricated. I will now re-cover my face as my appearance tends to prick superstition in rudimentary peoples."

THE KEEP AND ITS ENVIRONS

Inside The Keep

Hawke and Nimbar introduce themselves, saying that they have traveled a great distance on an errand of business.

Tellerian says, "Nimbar and I were scouts in the Royal Army of Furyondy, only recently finished our tour of duty. Now we are adventure-seekers, and if need-be, mercenaries, as long as the cause is just. I won't take part in any endeavor in which the weak are preyed upon."

Nimbar interrupts Tellerian's soap box moment, as the party steps through the gate into the entry yard (#3) "Ok, there's the stable and the warehouse," he says, indicating buildings #4 and #5, respectively. "Take note, Tellerian, we could probably obtain caravan passage there."

As the party rounds the corner, they see many nice, private apartments (#7), some of which have "for rent" signs on them, written in many languages, including the Common trade tongue. You also notice a shop (#8) with a multi-language sign that reads, "Fine Weapons, Reliable Armor, Horses Shoed & Saddled. We Don't Rent Pigs."

Buildings #9 and #10 are shops, both of which have the look of upscale provisioners, similar to what one would find in a General Store back home. Building #10 also has a sign in the window, written in the Common trade tongue, which reads, "We buy furs of all kinds. Inquire within."

Building #11 has a strange sign on it. It is written in Eryptian only. The sign depicts a hand, grasping a bag, and another hand above it, grasping what appears to be a piece of paper.


Lastly, the party notices a huge fountain near the end of the concourse (#13) and around it has gathered a small farmer's market, where vegetables, fruits, bread, and other consumable commodities may be purchased. The people here are all apparently haggling, wheeling, and dealing, each trying to come out on top of his or her particular transaction. The party even sees a few textiles sprinkled in, taking note of one or two vendors who are offering boots, pants, and tunics.

Sphynx: What do you do?

DM said:

Hawke and Nimbar introduce themselves, saying that they have traveled a great distance on an errand of business.

Tellerian says, "Nimbar and I were scouts in the Royal Army of Furyondy..."

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Sphynx nods amiable. He keeps his hands still in front of him as he speaks. The posture does not appear to be forced. He has no difficulty in refraining from gesture as he speaks the Common tongue. "I am unfamiliar with the area of which you speak..."

He goes on to give a brief identification of his place of origin and his direction of travel over the past decade or so.

DM said:

Nimbar interrupts...(#3)[/b] "Ok, there's the stable and the warehouse," he says, indicating buildings #4 and #5, respectively. "Take note, Tellerian, we could probably obtain caravan passage there."

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"I have traveled this desert for quite some years now. I know nothing of required writ of passage. Yes, I am scripted, by the way."

As Sphynx continues to accompany Tellerian and Nimbar while they note the places of interests within the Keep, he interjects a thought, "Are you two in need of a guide familiar with the area or some accompaniment on your particular mission? You seem a bit out of sorts."

The Party Is Formed

Sphynx said:

Sphynx nods amiably. He keeps his hands still in front of him as he speaks. The posture does not appear to be forced. He has no difficulty in refraining from gesture as he speaks the Common tongue. "I am unfamiliar with the area of which you speak..."

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Tellerian explains that the Central Flanaess is on the same continent as Erypt, albeit almost 3000 miles to the east. He also says that their mission is to obtain Rose Gold Iron Ore, by any means necessary, whether they have to mine it themselves, or procure it from the Kobolds in this region (who are known to mine it and use it for the manufacture of their weaponry.) Tellerian says that the Kobolds of this particular region (Dragonspine Kobolds) are known for their fierceness and hostility. He says that if they encounter Kobolds, the method of "procurement" will likely be battle, rather than a commercial transaction.

Tellerian says, "The man who sent us is named Sir Walter. He says that if it comes to a battle with the Kobolds, that there should be enough Rose Gold Ore in 4-5 swords, or 5-6 spear heads, for his purposes. Although it's dangerous, collecting a few Kobold weapons would be much more expedient than actually mining for it. And more exciting, as well."

Nimbar frowns at Tellerian's impetuousness, but says nothing.

Tellerian takes note of Nimbar's scowl, "Sir Walter thought so as well; it was obvious. He told us that this keep would make an excellent base camp for our excursions against the Kobolds. He apparently knew our mindset before we did."

Nimbar retorts, "YOUR mindset. You're the charger. I'm the planner, remember? Has it ever occurred to you that discretion is the better part of valor?"

Sphynx said:

As Sphynx continues to accompany Tellerian and Nimbar while they note the places of interests within the Keep, he interjects a thought, "Are you two in need of a guide familiar with the area or some accompaniment on your particular mission? You seem a bit out of sorts."

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Nimbar says, "We'd love to have you along, especially if you know anything about Kobolds. But I must warn you that our work is hazardous. Especially given my ox-like friend's propensity for recklessness. Do you think you're up to it? Have you ever been in a scrape?"

Tellerian corrects Nimbar, "Fight. Not scrape."

Nimbar's eyes narrow into a frown, "A fight is accomplished with fists. A scrape is an encounter wherein one may encounter knives, swords, bows, and other weapons which tend to scar the skin and draw blood. Hence the term, scrape. Stick to what you know, and leave the terminology to me."

Tellerian scoffs, and smiles at his friend, "You know you love me like a brother. Quit being a grump."

Sphynx: What do you do?

Sphynx cocks his head oddly at the banter of the two friends. "You are a strange pair. I do not know kobolds, but I am familiar with the traveling peoples of the sands, which can often prevent unnecessary and unproductive combat. Do not let the fact that I have previously been enslaved deter your willingness to perceive my ability to protect myself or engage an enemy. I killed my captor."

He continues in a jovial tone, like some penny-hire, camel jockey."It seems the services of my camel will be beneficial as well. If you budget so demands, we can have him carry your necessary supplies while we travel, afoot. This is common among smaller, less affluent, bands and would draw no suspicion. For payment, I should think that half upon departure and half upon return will be acceptable."

Agreed

Tellerian scoffs, and says to Sphynx: "Well, my new friend, what is the fee for your camel? If it's not unreasonable, we'd probably just give you the whole fee up front; after all, one of us, or perhaps even both us, might catch an arrow in the eye, and never get around to giving you the other half. As for our overall purpose, I am not sure what sort of compensation we could offer you, since we ourselves don't know. You see, this one here," he points to Nimbar with his thumb, "didn't even ask Sir Walter what the compensation was going to be. Sir Walter is an honest and fair man, but he's done so many favors for Nimbar and I in the past, that it might be that he expects this acquisition to be done on a gratis basis. We shall see. We'd love to have you along, since we could use all the help we can get, but you might not exactly become rich off of this venture, if you catch my meaning. What say you? If you are with us, I think we should find a room, stow our gear, have a good meal, and then provision ourselves before the shops close for the day. Then we can make a fresh start tomorrow, just before the dawn. No sense traveling during the heat of the day, if we can avoid it."