Like Father, Like Son: Kid Charlemagne's Story Hour , PT III
- Thread starter Kid Charlemagne
- Start date
Gavin
First Post
MasterOfHeaven said:
Well, at least he has the satisfaction of a job well done. I was very nervous that I was going to choke the dice rolls in Gavin's moment of triumph. Nothing like having everyone depending on you to go one on one with the big bad guy. KidC had us totally fooled. Nobody even suspected that Kentfield would trick us.
It was a beautiful hit, though. Any day when you shishkabob an orc can't be all bad, right?
Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
Duke Alfric’s Castle, Kingdom of Caer Sidi, June 26th, AE 420
There is a frenzy of activity as everyone searches high and low for Kentfield and Quinn. Aris, sitting in the stands not far from the Duke, turns to him.
“What will be done to him now that he has run off like a coward?” he asks.
“Well,” Duke Alfric responds. “He has forfeited his right to my protection. I feel no compulsion to deal with him, but you may do whatever you wish.”
Aris nods, and then a thought occurs to him.
“Where did that gnome go? The one who works on all the clockwork birds?”
The Lady Meriven speaks up. “Wilfred? I saw him leave this morning, just after the gates opened.”
There is some concern that Kentfield and Quinn might have snuck off then, almost four hours ago, but Soldago reminds the others that they saw both Quinn and Kentfield just before the joust. Aris sends Whistlethorne out to scout around. The hawk swiftly spies two horsemen, about a mile away from the castle, riding hard.
“Aha!” Aris yells, and they make their way to their horses.
Before they go much further though, Aris sees (through his telepathic link with his familiar) that the two horsemen have stopped and dismounted. At this distance, Whistlethorne can’t absolutely identify them. The smaller gestures, casting a spell, and a hawk appears from nowhere. Then the larger man casts a spell, and the two vanish, in a manner consistent with the effects of a plane shift.
“Great.” Jovah says. “What now?”
They decide to split up. Jovah will teleport, sight unseen, to the Library of Thend. He will take Aris and Corwin. They will seek out what info they can to see if there are any clues there as to why their enemies came here. Gavin, Reana, Brennen, Jalea, and Soldago will track down the gnome, and try to get some info out of him.
The contingent heading to the Library depart. They plan to fold back that evening with whatever information they glean. They get a written recommendation from Theodisius before leaving.
Duke Alfric graciously allows the others the use of what till recently were their own horses, and allows Gavin to use the warhorse he rode in the joust. They ride off in pursuit of the Wilfred’s wagon. He has a four hour head start, but Reana tracks him across the fields, and after about three hours, the spy him up ahead. The gnomes wagon is a enclosed wooden wagon, with four solid walls and a roof, with doors in the back and side.
The wagon begins speeding up, as much as a heavy wagon pulled by two clydesdales can, and the party catches up quickly. They can see that Wilfred is riding next to a Gnoll. The gnome tosses the reins to his partner, and throws open a hatch in the wagon top and climbs in. A short while later, he climbs back out, this time carrying a metallic crossbow that is linked by tubing to a pack on his back that contains a number of greenish vials. He points the contraption at Gavin and fires.
He misses, and the ground sizzles and burns from the acidic substance in the crossbow bolt. Soldago spurs his horse forward, and readies his longbow. He slips off the horse, and fires the darkness arrow into the back of the wagon, thereby blinding the gnome. He mounts up again, and tries to catch up with the others who have now pulled ahead by a good distance.
Reana and Gavin ride hard up to the front of the wagon. Reana moves in front of the horses, and casts speak with animals. Gavin rides up alongside the gnoll, and takes a swipe with his sword. He misses, and the gnoll responds by lashing the reins to a hitch, and then spinning and kicking at Gavin! He misses as well, and gracefully lands back in his seat. Wilfred has crawled forward out of the darkness back to the seat beside the gnoll.
Jalea rides hard up ahead of the wagon, and dismounts. He preps his bow, and notches an arrow to fire as the wagon goes past him. He lets a rapid stream of arrows into the gnoll.
Reana expertly jumps from her horse to one of the clydesdales. She coaxes the animal into slowing down, aided by Gavin who spurs his horse to in front of the wagon. He then reins in his horse, and the clydesdales are forced to slow down rather than run him over. The gnolls doesn’t care for this at all, and grabs his horse whip. He lashes out at Reana, and coils the whip around her arm. He gives a yank with all his might, but the Ranger stays on the horse.
Wilfred climbs back into the darkness, as Brennen rides up along the right side of the wagon. The Sword of Kelanen reaches out with his left hand until he feels the wagon in the dark. He then climbs up so he is crouching on his saddle, and leaps to the wagon’s roof! He doesn’t get very good footing on his horse though, and only half makes it, holding on for dear life with his feet dangling over the edge. He pulls himself up onto the roof, and gains his footing, drawing both swords.
The wagon has nearly stopped now, and the gnoll, in a desperation move, leaps towards Reana, landing a heavy kick to her head, knocking her off the clydesdale. He manages to land on the horse, but has to fend off Gavin, who is impressed with the gnolls moves.
“They don’t make gnolls like that where I come from,” he thinks.
Brennen swings hard in the darkness where Wilfred was, but comes up with nothing.
“Where did he go?” he wonders. “Oh! The hatch!”
He feels around with his swords until he finds the hatch.
“Hey!” he yells. “We just want to ask you a few questions! We won’t hurt you!”
“Yeah, sure!” the gnome yells back. “That’s what they all say! Then they leave out the parts about the forceps, and the water torture, and those thingies they use to hold your eyes open!”
Brennen hears the doors at the back of the wagon open. Soldago has just begun to catch up with the darkened wagon when out of the darkness comes Wilfred, sitting in a seat attached to a four legged walking mechanism. The gnome is tugging at joysticks and pushing buttons, and he approaches the archer, and he fires off a burst of flame at the archer and his horse.
Gavin spins his horse around and rides over to the back, as does Jalea. Pretty soon, the gnome is surrounded, and his spidery riding contraption has nowhere to go.
“All right!” he calls out. “I give!”
“I’ll talk!”
There is a frenzy of activity as everyone searches high and low for Kentfield and Quinn. Aris, sitting in the stands not far from the Duke, turns to him.
“What will be done to him now that he has run off like a coward?” he asks.
“Well,” Duke Alfric responds. “He has forfeited his right to my protection. I feel no compulsion to deal with him, but you may do whatever you wish.”
Aris nods, and then a thought occurs to him.
“Where did that gnome go? The one who works on all the clockwork birds?”
The Lady Meriven speaks up. “Wilfred? I saw him leave this morning, just after the gates opened.”
There is some concern that Kentfield and Quinn might have snuck off then, almost four hours ago, but Soldago reminds the others that they saw both Quinn and Kentfield just before the joust. Aris sends Whistlethorne out to scout around. The hawk swiftly spies two horsemen, about a mile away from the castle, riding hard.
“Aha!” Aris yells, and they make their way to their horses.
Before they go much further though, Aris sees (through his telepathic link with his familiar) that the two horsemen have stopped and dismounted. At this distance, Whistlethorne can’t absolutely identify them. The smaller gestures, casting a spell, and a hawk appears from nowhere. Then the larger man casts a spell, and the two vanish, in a manner consistent with the effects of a plane shift.
“Great.” Jovah says. “What now?”
They decide to split up. Jovah will teleport, sight unseen, to the Library of Thend. He will take Aris and Corwin. They will seek out what info they can to see if there are any clues there as to why their enemies came here. Gavin, Reana, Brennen, Jalea, and Soldago will track down the gnome, and try to get some info out of him.
The contingent heading to the Library depart. They plan to fold back that evening with whatever information they glean. They get a written recommendation from Theodisius before leaving.
Duke Alfric graciously allows the others the use of what till recently were their own horses, and allows Gavin to use the warhorse he rode in the joust. They ride off in pursuit of the Wilfred’s wagon. He has a four hour head start, but Reana tracks him across the fields, and after about three hours, the spy him up ahead. The gnomes wagon is a enclosed wooden wagon, with four solid walls and a roof, with doors in the back and side.
The wagon begins speeding up, as much as a heavy wagon pulled by two clydesdales can, and the party catches up quickly. They can see that Wilfred is riding next to a Gnoll. The gnome tosses the reins to his partner, and throws open a hatch in the wagon top and climbs in. A short while later, he climbs back out, this time carrying a metallic crossbow that is linked by tubing to a pack on his back that contains a number of greenish vials. He points the contraption at Gavin and fires.
He misses, and the ground sizzles and burns from the acidic substance in the crossbow bolt. Soldago spurs his horse forward, and readies his longbow. He slips off the horse, and fires the darkness arrow into the back of the wagon, thereby blinding the gnome. He mounts up again, and tries to catch up with the others who have now pulled ahead by a good distance.
Reana and Gavin ride hard up to the front of the wagon. Reana moves in front of the horses, and casts speak with animals. Gavin rides up alongside the gnoll, and takes a swipe with his sword. He misses, and the gnoll responds by lashing the reins to a hitch, and then spinning and kicking at Gavin! He misses as well, and gracefully lands back in his seat. Wilfred has crawled forward out of the darkness back to the seat beside the gnoll.
Jalea rides hard up ahead of the wagon, and dismounts. He preps his bow, and notches an arrow to fire as the wagon goes past him. He lets a rapid stream of arrows into the gnoll.
Reana expertly jumps from her horse to one of the clydesdales. She coaxes the animal into slowing down, aided by Gavin who spurs his horse to in front of the wagon. He then reins in his horse, and the clydesdales are forced to slow down rather than run him over. The gnolls doesn’t care for this at all, and grabs his horse whip. He lashes out at Reana, and coils the whip around her arm. He gives a yank with all his might, but the Ranger stays on the horse.
Wilfred climbs back into the darkness, as Brennen rides up along the right side of the wagon. The Sword of Kelanen reaches out with his left hand until he feels the wagon in the dark. He then climbs up so he is crouching on his saddle, and leaps to the wagon’s roof! He doesn’t get very good footing on his horse though, and only half makes it, holding on for dear life with his feet dangling over the edge. He pulls himself up onto the roof, and gains his footing, drawing both swords.
The wagon has nearly stopped now, and the gnoll, in a desperation move, leaps towards Reana, landing a heavy kick to her head, knocking her off the clydesdale. He manages to land on the horse, but has to fend off Gavin, who is impressed with the gnolls moves.
“They don’t make gnolls like that where I come from,” he thinks.
Brennen swings hard in the darkness where Wilfred was, but comes up with nothing.
“Where did he go?” he wonders. “Oh! The hatch!”
He feels around with his swords until he finds the hatch.
“Hey!” he yells. “We just want to ask you a few questions! We won’t hurt you!”
“Yeah, sure!” the gnome yells back. “That’s what they all say! Then they leave out the parts about the forceps, and the water torture, and those thingies they use to hold your eyes open!”
Brennen hears the doors at the back of the wagon open. Soldago has just begun to catch up with the darkened wagon when out of the darkness comes Wilfred, sitting in a seat attached to a four legged walking mechanism. The gnome is tugging at joysticks and pushing buttons, and he approaches the archer, and he fires off a burst of flame at the archer and his horse.
Gavin spins his horse around and rides over to the back, as does Jalea. Pretty soon, the gnome is surrounded, and his spidery riding contraption has nowhere to go.
“All right!” he calls out. “I give!”
“I’ll talk!”
Last edited:
Sir Brennen
Legend
Ker-bump
Just a bump to let readers know. Kid C. is busy ruling how we spend our loot from the latest climatic battle
So there's more to look forward to....
Just a bump to let readers know. Kid C. is busy ruling how we spend our loot from the latest climatic battle
So there's more to look forward to....
Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
Kingdom of Caer Sidi, June 26th, AE 420
The gnome orders his gnoll slave to stop fighting. He does so, grudgingly. Reana checks on the horses to make sure they are unhurt.
“What’s your connection with Quinn?” Brennen asks the gnome. “He came to see you last night, and we want to know why.”
Wilfred looks at the party, and thinks for a while, and then shrugs.
“He came to pick up some things from me,” he replies. “I was paid to hold onto a few things, and make sure they got into his hands.”
“Paid by who? What things?”
“Paid by a Thendar named Falco. There was a dagger, a diamond, and a glove.”
“Who’s this Falco fellow?” asks Brennen, recalling one of Johann’s notes in his spellbook: No one in area has suitable diamonds, Falco will have to find them elsewhere. Apparently, Falco did.
“Thendar, maybe six foot, always wearing a heavy cloak when I saw him. Can’t give you much more there. Had a goatee, hair going a little grey.”
“What do the items you gave Quinn do?” Gavin asks.
“I don’t know. Falco handed them off to me, and I handed them off to Quinn. I do know this: Falco said to make sure to tell Quinn that the dagger should only ever be handled while wearing the glove. And it was a very sweet diamond. Biggest stone I’d ever seen in my life.”
“Why did Falco trust you?” Reana asks skeptically.
“I have a reputation for doing good work,” the gnome says proudly.
They have a few more minor questions for the gnome, which he answers, and they let him go. Jalea tries unsuccessfully to buy the acid-throwing crossbow, but the little inventor wants far too much money for even the heavy-pocketed elf to pay.
They ride back to Duke Alfric’s castle, where they meet up with Corwin, Aris, and Jovah. They have just come back from the Library of Thend, and can offer little more information than what they had before. There seems to be no reason for them to stay any longer in Caer Sidi, so Jovah prepares to plane shift them out the next morning.
They ride out a mile or so from the castle, and depart in a flash of light, appearing back in their own world on a well-worn road, apparently high in the mountains.
“Where are we?” Reana asks. “This doesn’t look like Fencig!”
“Relax,” the luck-priest says. “Plane shift isn’t a very targetted spell, you can be off by hundreds of miles. I’ve got a fold to use just as soon as I figure out… oh, crap. I know exactly where we are.”
“Hey, Jovah! I hear horses coming this way!” Soldago yells from a little down the road. “And wagons!”
“Everybody form up! No time to enjoy the scenery!” Jovah barks, urging everyone to gather around so he can cast dimensional folding. A group of horsemen round the bend to the east, bearing banners and devices that are familiar to the party.
“Those cavalrymen are Caradinian,” Brennen remarks, slowly realizing where he is.
“We’re in Carandor?” Reana asks incredulously.
“Aren’t we wanted there?” Gavin adds.
“Yup.” Jovah replies. “Murder. Virenzo Staris, remember? Like I said, time to go!”
“Mu..mu..mu…murder?” Corwin stammers.
He casts dimensional folding and in moments the party is in the courtyard of Jovah’s house, across the street from the Fox Club.
“That’s much better,” Jovah sighs.
As soon as he can set up, Corwin scries on Kentfield. He finds him quickly, striding across a grassy portion of ruined fortress. The fortress appears to be just off the shore of a small island, probably in the Retic Sea, south of Ulfang. He is speaking to a man carrying a staff topped by a carved cat’s head, as well as to Quinn and the captain of his ship, the Seahawk.
“We need maximum security here, Kwarion,” Kentfield says to the man with the staff. “I want you to take care of that. I will do some castings in order to boost our capabilities. We will be assaulted sometime in the next two days, I guarantee it. I may or may not know when the attack will come. We need to be prepared to fight them off, at least until the solstice.”
After the spell is over, Corwin describes what he saw. “I don’t think that guy with the staff was a mage. Too graceful and strong looking.”
“Another assassin?” Aris asks rhetorically.
“We’re going to need to fold there,” Jovah says. “But that will mean a big chance of aging…”
“Great. Going to save the world, excuse me can I hit you with my walker?” Gavin sneers.
“Wait a minute. I have an idea.” Jovah says. “I’ll make a dimensional folding portal somewhere up on the island. We’ll have about twelve seconds to look through it and see what we can see. Then I’ll let it close, and tomorrow we can fold there with a better chance of success.”
Jovah casts the spell, and the portal opens up. They are high up on the island overlooking the fortress, and can see the area well. The fortress is about two hundred feet square, and about one hundred and fifty feet offshore. About four hundred feet off to the east of the fortress is a large outcropping of rocks.
Throughout the area lie four large ships at anchor, in addition to Kentfield’s ship, which is docked at the fortress. Twenty or so tents line the beach near the plankway that leads from the shore to the fortress.
“Wow, there must be a hundred or two people there on those boats and on the beach,” Corwin says. “Lots of spectators for whatever Kentfield is doing.”
“Okay, let’s get ready to go tomorrow,” Jovah says. “We’ve seen all we can see tonight.”
The portal closes.
But not before Jalea jumps through.
The gnome orders his gnoll slave to stop fighting. He does so, grudgingly. Reana checks on the horses to make sure they are unhurt.
“What’s your connection with Quinn?” Brennen asks the gnome. “He came to see you last night, and we want to know why.”
Wilfred looks at the party, and thinks for a while, and then shrugs.
“He came to pick up some things from me,” he replies. “I was paid to hold onto a few things, and make sure they got into his hands.”
“Paid by who? What things?”
“Paid by a Thendar named Falco. There was a dagger, a diamond, and a glove.”
“Who’s this Falco fellow?” asks Brennen, recalling one of Johann’s notes in his spellbook: No one in area has suitable diamonds, Falco will have to find them elsewhere. Apparently, Falco did.
“Thendar, maybe six foot, always wearing a heavy cloak when I saw him. Can’t give you much more there. Had a goatee, hair going a little grey.”
“What do the items you gave Quinn do?” Gavin asks.
“I don’t know. Falco handed them off to me, and I handed them off to Quinn. I do know this: Falco said to make sure to tell Quinn that the dagger should only ever be handled while wearing the glove. And it was a very sweet diamond. Biggest stone I’d ever seen in my life.”
“Why did Falco trust you?” Reana asks skeptically.
“I have a reputation for doing good work,” the gnome says proudly.
They have a few more minor questions for the gnome, which he answers, and they let him go. Jalea tries unsuccessfully to buy the acid-throwing crossbow, but the little inventor wants far too much money for even the heavy-pocketed elf to pay.
They ride back to Duke Alfric’s castle, where they meet up with Corwin, Aris, and Jovah. They have just come back from the Library of Thend, and can offer little more information than what they had before. There seems to be no reason for them to stay any longer in Caer Sidi, so Jovah prepares to plane shift them out the next morning.
They ride out a mile or so from the castle, and depart in a flash of light, appearing back in their own world on a well-worn road, apparently high in the mountains.
“Where are we?” Reana asks. “This doesn’t look like Fencig!”
“Relax,” the luck-priest says. “Plane shift isn’t a very targetted spell, you can be off by hundreds of miles. I’ve got a fold to use just as soon as I figure out… oh, crap. I know exactly where we are.”
“Hey, Jovah! I hear horses coming this way!” Soldago yells from a little down the road. “And wagons!”
“Everybody form up! No time to enjoy the scenery!” Jovah barks, urging everyone to gather around so he can cast dimensional folding. A group of horsemen round the bend to the east, bearing banners and devices that are familiar to the party.
“Those cavalrymen are Caradinian,” Brennen remarks, slowly realizing where he is.
“We’re in Carandor?” Reana asks incredulously.
“Aren’t we wanted there?” Gavin adds.
“Yup.” Jovah replies. “Murder. Virenzo Staris, remember? Like I said, time to go!”
“Mu..mu..mu…murder?” Corwin stammers.
He casts dimensional folding and in moments the party is in the courtyard of Jovah’s house, across the street from the Fox Club.
“That’s much better,” Jovah sighs.
As soon as he can set up, Corwin scries on Kentfield. He finds him quickly, striding across a grassy portion of ruined fortress. The fortress appears to be just off the shore of a small island, probably in the Retic Sea, south of Ulfang. He is speaking to a man carrying a staff topped by a carved cat’s head, as well as to Quinn and the captain of his ship, the Seahawk.
“We need maximum security here, Kwarion,” Kentfield says to the man with the staff. “I want you to take care of that. I will do some castings in order to boost our capabilities. We will be assaulted sometime in the next two days, I guarantee it. I may or may not know when the attack will come. We need to be prepared to fight them off, at least until the solstice.”
After the spell is over, Corwin describes what he saw. “I don’t think that guy with the staff was a mage. Too graceful and strong looking.”
“Another assassin?” Aris asks rhetorically.
“We’re going to need to fold there,” Jovah says. “But that will mean a big chance of aging…”
“Great. Going to save the world, excuse me can I hit you with my walker?” Gavin sneers.
“Wait a minute. I have an idea.” Jovah says. “I’ll make a dimensional folding portal somewhere up on the island. We’ll have about twelve seconds to look through it and see what we can see. Then I’ll let it close, and tomorrow we can fold there with a better chance of success.”
Jovah casts the spell, and the portal opens up. They are high up on the island overlooking the fortress, and can see the area well. The fortress is about two hundred feet square, and about one hundred and fifty feet offshore. About four hundred feet off to the east of the fortress is a large outcropping of rocks.
Throughout the area lie four large ships at anchor, in addition to Kentfield’s ship, which is docked at the fortress. Twenty or so tents line the beach near the plankway that leads from the shore to the fortress.
“Wow, there must be a hundred or two people there on those boats and on the beach,” Corwin says. “Lots of spectators for whatever Kentfield is doing.”
“Okay, let’s get ready to go tomorrow,” Jovah says. “We’ve seen all we can see tonight.”
The portal closes.
But not before Jalea jumps through.
Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
The Fox Club, Fencig, June 27th, AE 420
“Wow,” Jovah says with a hint of resignation. “I really think we could have seen that coming.”
“Well, that will certainly stir things up a bit, don’t you think?” Brennen adds.
A quick huddle results in a plan: They will get to sleep early, and get up a few hours before dawn, with the intention of folding to the rocky outcropping off the shore of the island. They decide to hope for the best in regards to Jalea.
The next morning, very early, the party borrows a rowboat from the docks in Fencig, and paddles it out several hundred feet into the lake. Early morning fisherman sail past, looking in wonderment and confusion at the rowboat laden to the bursting point with seven heavily armed and armored adventurers. Jovah casts dimensional folding in front of the boat, and they coast the rowboat through the portal, into the open sea by the outcropping of rocks. It is dark and drizzly, and quite warm. The waves crash against the rocks, and Brennen and Gavin hold the boat steady against the current pushing them towards shore.
Jovah sits in the very front, and looks towards the fortress, which lies on the opposite side of the rocks. The distance is roughly four hundred feet, and the gnomish priest can see lanterns lighting the walls, and guards patrolling the site.
The fortress is about two hundred feet from one side to the other. It has fallen ruin over the several centuries since it last saw military use; only the foundations remain, with remnants of walls and columns. There is a dock on the north side of the fortress, and Kentfield’s yacht, the Seahawk, is docked there. On the other side is a thirty foot bridge to a small gatehouse, and from there, a hundred foot long plankway running just a few feet above the waves like a long narrow boardwalk.
I’m going to post a top-down view of the fortress after this post, we’ll see if it makes things clearer or murkier!
Reana draws her weather-controlling shortsword, and begins chanting the ritual that will activate its powers. It takes ten minutes to activate it, and ten more minutes for the weather it calls to take full effect.
The party waits, bobbing up and down in a tiny rowboat on the Retic Sea. Slowly, a fog builds up.
***
And now let’s back up a few hours…
Jalea gets his bearings after jumping through the portal. He’s on the highest part of the island, looking down on the fortress below, and on the encampments on the beach.
I’ll go check this out, get a little info, and with luck I can get my hands on either the glove, the dagger, or the diamond the elven scout thinks. Then they can’t have their little ritual!
He makes his way down to the beach. Its dark, and its beginning to rain slightly. The sound of the waves agaisnt the sand helps drown out what noise he makes, but Jalea is quite skilled at being unnoticed; he passes by even most animals unseen. He starts at the east end of the beach, where he sees a trio of old women gathered around a campfire, discussing things with four or five men. He crawls to within twenty feet of them in order to catch their conversation:
“…hope he knows what he’s doing,” one man says. “I’m here, but I still don’t know what this Kentfield is actually going to do! Something big, I guess.”
“You should pay more attention to your portents,” one old lady responds bitingly. “I understand he is going to attempt a sort of ascension. He is going to try and merge himself with his patron, I hear.”
“Well, well,” says one of the other men. “Nothing like that has been attempted in at least two centuries! You’re right to wonder if he knows what he’s doing, if he fails it will be a mess. If he suceeds, though, we’ll just have to see what he can do with that kind of power.”
“Things would be very different in Ulfang, and all along the Retic Sea,” the old woman cackles. “Many people would pay for their offense against us!”
Jalea leaves the gloating demon-worshippers to their dreams of grandeur, and moves further west along the beach. He wants to get closer to the plankway, figuring that the richer, more important cultists would have their tents set up there. Better quality of information, he thinks.
He settles in near a tent decorated in the Ralt Gaitherese style. Sitting out front is a man in armor, sitting cross-legged with a katana across his knees. Nearby, under a sheltering flap, sits a man decked out in fine silks, bearing a katana and wakizashi. Marks of a nobleman, Jalea recalls from his time in Ralt Gaither.
A man that Jalea pegs as a rich merchant walks up to the tent, and addresses the nobleman.
“They won’t let me into the fortress to see Kentfield! I sail hundreds of miles to be here for an event that I am promised will change our very lives, and then the man won’t even speak with any of us! This is outrageous!”
“Relax,” says the Ralt Gaitherese nobleman. “This is a very tricky time. The fortress will be opened to us when the ritual is ready to be performed. Security is tight in the meantime. There are forces that would stop this from happening, and Kentfield is taking reasonable precautions to ensure that things go smoothly.”
The merchant blusters some more, but no more enticing news reaches Jalea’s ears. He slips down to the shore, slowly, taking his time, and manages to sneak his way unseen to the beach end of the plankway. The tide is low right now, but rising quickly. The distance from shore to the gatehouse is about ninety feet, the waves are about five feet high, and Jalea is not a strong swimmer.
He reaches up and grabs a plank, and slowly begins to climb, hand over hand across the underside of the plankway, like a child on a set of overhanging bars. Everything is going smoothly when one of the planks snaps in the elf’s hand as he swings out to grab it!
He barely manages to hang on with his other hand, and his foot kicks out for balance, splashing into a wave, fairly loudly. Jalea holds his breath and tucks his legs up underneath him, hoping no one heard the noise. A shape moves under the waves beneath the hanging elf, circles once, then swims off to the west. Too small for a shark, Jalea thinks, just about right for a sahuagin!
He swings forward and grabs the next plank, which holds, and begins moving with greater purpose now. Within seconds, he has made it to the rocky foundation of the gatehouse, and melts into the darkness to the side of the front gate. He recovers his breath, and waits.
A few moments later, a sahuagin breaks the surface, and grabs the edge of the plankway. He pulls himself up in one fluid motion, and looks around searchingly. He then approaches the gatehouse. There is no actual gate to the gatehouse, just the archway where one used to be before time and the sea claimed it. A challenging voice calls out for him to stop, and the sahuagin does. Jalea recognizes the voice. It’s Glaron, one of the assassins that the party fought in the Gregarious Gargoyle Tavern.
That would be the assassin that shot Gavin for 48 points of damage in two shots.
“What is it?” Glaron asks.
“There is an intruder nearby,” the fish-man says. “One of my sentries spotted him under the plankway, but we’ve lost him. He can’t have gone far.”
“Alright, I’ll notify the fortress. Have your men keep an eye on the seas.”
The sahuagin nods, and dives into the water. Jalea strains to hear what is going on in the gatehouse, but can only hear the sound of someone running up the bridge to the fortress. The elf waits again for things to die down, and then starts to move back along the edge of the gatehouse, where the foundation meets the rocks that is built on. He stops short, as he realizes that someone is now on the roof of the gatehouse!
That was close, Jalea thinks.
He melts back into a dark corner, and begins to climb up the wall of the gatehouse. It’s only a one floor building. He peers over the edge through a crenelation, and sees that there are two guards on the roof, where before there were none. They’re thirty feet apart, Jalea could get to one, but not the other. Not before he raised the alarm, at any rate.
At that moment, Jalea notices that an unnatural summer fog has developed, thickening quickly to the point where he can’t see more than ten feet in front of his face. He grins.
“Thanks, Reana,” he whispers under his breath.
“Wow,” Jovah says with a hint of resignation. “I really think we could have seen that coming.”
“Well, that will certainly stir things up a bit, don’t you think?” Brennen adds.
A quick huddle results in a plan: They will get to sleep early, and get up a few hours before dawn, with the intention of folding to the rocky outcropping off the shore of the island. They decide to hope for the best in regards to Jalea.
The next morning, very early, the party borrows a rowboat from the docks in Fencig, and paddles it out several hundred feet into the lake. Early morning fisherman sail past, looking in wonderment and confusion at the rowboat laden to the bursting point with seven heavily armed and armored adventurers. Jovah casts dimensional folding in front of the boat, and they coast the rowboat through the portal, into the open sea by the outcropping of rocks. It is dark and drizzly, and quite warm. The waves crash against the rocks, and Brennen and Gavin hold the boat steady against the current pushing them towards shore.
Jovah sits in the very front, and looks towards the fortress, which lies on the opposite side of the rocks. The distance is roughly four hundred feet, and the gnomish priest can see lanterns lighting the walls, and guards patrolling the site.
The fortress is about two hundred feet from one side to the other. It has fallen ruin over the several centuries since it last saw military use; only the foundations remain, with remnants of walls and columns. There is a dock on the north side of the fortress, and Kentfield’s yacht, the Seahawk, is docked there. On the other side is a thirty foot bridge to a small gatehouse, and from there, a hundred foot long plankway running just a few feet above the waves like a long narrow boardwalk.
I’m going to post a top-down view of the fortress after this post, we’ll see if it makes things clearer or murkier!
Reana draws her weather-controlling shortsword, and begins chanting the ritual that will activate its powers. It takes ten minutes to activate it, and ten more minutes for the weather it calls to take full effect.
The party waits, bobbing up and down in a tiny rowboat on the Retic Sea. Slowly, a fog builds up.
***
And now let’s back up a few hours…
Jalea gets his bearings after jumping through the portal. He’s on the highest part of the island, looking down on the fortress below, and on the encampments on the beach.
I’ll go check this out, get a little info, and with luck I can get my hands on either the glove, the dagger, or the diamond the elven scout thinks. Then they can’t have their little ritual!
He makes his way down to the beach. Its dark, and its beginning to rain slightly. The sound of the waves agaisnt the sand helps drown out what noise he makes, but Jalea is quite skilled at being unnoticed; he passes by even most animals unseen. He starts at the east end of the beach, where he sees a trio of old women gathered around a campfire, discussing things with four or five men. He crawls to within twenty feet of them in order to catch their conversation:
“…hope he knows what he’s doing,” one man says. “I’m here, but I still don’t know what this Kentfield is actually going to do! Something big, I guess.”
“You should pay more attention to your portents,” one old lady responds bitingly. “I understand he is going to attempt a sort of ascension. He is going to try and merge himself with his patron, I hear.”
“Well, well,” says one of the other men. “Nothing like that has been attempted in at least two centuries! You’re right to wonder if he knows what he’s doing, if he fails it will be a mess. If he suceeds, though, we’ll just have to see what he can do with that kind of power.”
“Things would be very different in Ulfang, and all along the Retic Sea,” the old woman cackles. “Many people would pay for their offense against us!”
Jalea leaves the gloating demon-worshippers to their dreams of grandeur, and moves further west along the beach. He wants to get closer to the plankway, figuring that the richer, more important cultists would have their tents set up there. Better quality of information, he thinks.
He settles in near a tent decorated in the Ralt Gaitherese style. Sitting out front is a man in armor, sitting cross-legged with a katana across his knees. Nearby, under a sheltering flap, sits a man decked out in fine silks, bearing a katana and wakizashi. Marks of a nobleman, Jalea recalls from his time in Ralt Gaither.
A man that Jalea pegs as a rich merchant walks up to the tent, and addresses the nobleman.
“They won’t let me into the fortress to see Kentfield! I sail hundreds of miles to be here for an event that I am promised will change our very lives, and then the man won’t even speak with any of us! This is outrageous!”
“Relax,” says the Ralt Gaitherese nobleman. “This is a very tricky time. The fortress will be opened to us when the ritual is ready to be performed. Security is tight in the meantime. There are forces that would stop this from happening, and Kentfield is taking reasonable precautions to ensure that things go smoothly.”
The merchant blusters some more, but no more enticing news reaches Jalea’s ears. He slips down to the shore, slowly, taking his time, and manages to sneak his way unseen to the beach end of the plankway. The tide is low right now, but rising quickly. The distance from shore to the gatehouse is about ninety feet, the waves are about five feet high, and Jalea is not a strong swimmer.
He reaches up and grabs a plank, and slowly begins to climb, hand over hand across the underside of the plankway, like a child on a set of overhanging bars. Everything is going smoothly when one of the planks snaps in the elf’s hand as he swings out to grab it!
He barely manages to hang on with his other hand, and his foot kicks out for balance, splashing into a wave, fairly loudly. Jalea holds his breath and tucks his legs up underneath him, hoping no one heard the noise. A shape moves under the waves beneath the hanging elf, circles once, then swims off to the west. Too small for a shark, Jalea thinks, just about right for a sahuagin!
He swings forward and grabs the next plank, which holds, and begins moving with greater purpose now. Within seconds, he has made it to the rocky foundation of the gatehouse, and melts into the darkness to the side of the front gate. He recovers his breath, and waits.
A few moments later, a sahuagin breaks the surface, and grabs the edge of the plankway. He pulls himself up in one fluid motion, and looks around searchingly. He then approaches the gatehouse. There is no actual gate to the gatehouse, just the archway where one used to be before time and the sea claimed it. A challenging voice calls out for him to stop, and the sahuagin does. Jalea recognizes the voice. It’s Glaron, one of the assassins that the party fought in the Gregarious Gargoyle Tavern.
That would be the assassin that shot Gavin for 48 points of damage in two shots.
“What is it?” Glaron asks.
“There is an intruder nearby,” the fish-man says. “One of my sentries spotted him under the plankway, but we’ve lost him. He can’t have gone far.”
“Alright, I’ll notify the fortress. Have your men keep an eye on the seas.”
The sahuagin nods, and dives into the water. Jalea strains to hear what is going on in the gatehouse, but can only hear the sound of someone running up the bridge to the fortress. The elf waits again for things to die down, and then starts to move back along the edge of the gatehouse, where the foundation meets the rocks that is built on. He stops short, as he realizes that someone is now on the roof of the gatehouse!
That was close, Jalea thinks.
He melts back into a dark corner, and begins to climb up the wall of the gatehouse. It’s only a one floor building. He peers over the edge through a crenelation, and sees that there are two guards on the roof, where before there were none. They’re thirty feet apart, Jalea could get to one, but not the other. Not before he raised the alarm, at any rate.
At that moment, Jalea notices that an unnatural summer fog has developed, thickening quickly to the point where he can’t see more than ten feet in front of his face. He grins.
“Thanks, Reana,” he whispers under his breath.
Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
Here's a top down view of the fortress, roughly 175' from side to side. The opposite side from the ship is the bridge leading to the gatehouse and the beach. The columns are roughly 30' tall, and are connected by planks, some stonework, and rope bridges. Water comes up to the very edges of the walls, which rise about 40' above the waves. The ground is flat at the level of the top of the walls - that's the base of the foundation, everything above is long gone.
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Gavin
First Post
Hey! How come we didn't get a spiffy CGI map like that for the game?! Of course, what use is a map when you can't see your hand in front of your face?
Welcome to Air Kelanen. In the event of a water landing, the gnome may be used as a flotation device.
This is just one of many times KidC has used bodies of water to terrify Gavin. He'll stand up to a Shadow Dragon, evil cultists, and Ghour demons, but throw a lake in his way and he starts to get nervous.
Welcome to Air Kelanen. In the event of a water landing, the gnome may be used as a flotation device.
This is just one of many times KidC has used bodies of water to terrify Gavin. He'll stand up to a Shadow Dragon, evil cultists, and Ghour demons, but throw a lake in his way and he starts to get nervous.
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