A Gathering of Allies (Part 1)
The day of my release was a long awaited one. After a year of brooding, thinking, and plotting I am finally free to put my plans into action. However, the first thing I was going to do was retrieve my armor.
“Your service is up and you have served your sentence.” A man of station informed Laurel, our troll companion Schmuck, and his gorillon companion Braegleoth, and myself as we stood in the great hall of the city. I believe his name is Samwell Goodheart.
“We hope you have seen the error of your ways and hope you are to become law-abiding citizens of Xad Nasser once again.” He lay the scroll down and another, lesser man rolled it up and put it away. Goodheart called for the next case.
The four of us were shuffled out into the daylight, which seemed different to me than before I entered the city hall.
”So that was it?” Laurel smirked. “Just a 5 minute reading and reprimand and we’re out? Hardly seems worth a year of servitude.”
“The less I hear come from the mouths of the so-called government here the better.” I retorted seeing a friendly face approaching us from the hall. “It seems that we are to be on our way promptly.” I motioned to Lord Nymn, who was quickly approaching our location.
“I have your things at my manse,” he said quickly, “I know you desire to be on the road south soon.”
Nymn is an excitable fellow whom seems more about his mouth and less about his wits than I am used to. Of course, he is cavorting with Lord Habback who was always the fast-talker in my opinion.
“Lead on.” I bade Nymn, for I did wish to be on the road south very soon.
He lead the four of us across town and to the mansion he called home. I dare not count the stares and looks that we received in that long but tortuously slow trek. Nymn seemed not in any hurry, and as I am wont to do, I tend to stride purposefully everywhere I travel. Nymn, bless his addled mind, talked about this and that as we strolled through the town. I understand that one must find friends where they may, but even some prices are difficult to pay, ally or no.
On our way, a creature stepped from an alleyway to address us, or should I say me. When I looked upon him in full, for he was one of my kindred, I stopped and peered at him for a long while. Nymn, in his absent-minded babble, kept walking and hadn’t yet realized I had paused. The creature let off a scent of greetings to me, and I returned it. However, I grew suspicious when the male did not get to the point of his reason for stopping me.
“Hail and be known,” I said in common larcetanian greeting.
I spoke the language of my people, which none around me could hear, save, I thought, this creature. My suspicion grew tenfold when the creature looked at me dumb-founded as if it had no idea what I had just imparted on it.
“Speak and waste not my time,” I growled at it, for I was anxious to be on the road and out of this forsaken city.
The male made a gesture of frustration and bade me to wait. Against my better judgment, and for pure curiosity’s sake, I stood.
He turned and went back down the alley. I waited for what seemed to be some time and even heard that Nymn had finally turned to see if anyone was listening to him and realized that none followed him aNymnore.
A minute or more went by. I grunted as I was fed up with this waiting game when, just as I was about to leave, a small gnome came from the alleyway where my kindred had departed.
“Bocata Si Nik Nik, I presume?” the little creature asked, looking up at my towering form.
‘Damn my reputation’, I thought. “Aye, and who are you, little one?” I tried to answer with as much patience as my armor-crafting experience would allow.
“I am Rhen and I have searched for you for many months,” he said with a flourish, “and I wish to talk with you for a moment.”
I had had just about enough of this foolishness and was not quite sure where it was leading. I looked back at the alleyway expecting the larcetan to show himself and so I could be rid of this little creature. I glanced back down at the gnome.
“May I speak with you?” the creature asked tentatively. The frustration on my face was apparent and I might have intimidated him a little more than I intended to.
“If you can keep up,” I muttered, and turned to follow Nymn who was starting to close the distance between our locations. I’d be damned if I had to walk more steps with that one at my side than I had to. The gnome began what sounded like a protest, but I wasn’t around to hear the rest it if. However, to my surprise, he did keep up.
After finally reaching the home of Lord Nymn, he reached into a chest and produced our equipment, magic items and all. I nearly wept when he pulled out my swords…
“The Hand and Shield of Oti Ni Nuad,” I said in a low voice, “how I have missed you.”
I swung the two blades in my hands, with practiced ease and intimate familiarity. These blades were but unwrought mithril whence I created them. Hard, misshapen chunks of precious metal that needed the caring touch of a skilled craftsmen. Now they were magnificent pieces of artwork, one that my people would be proud of. Of course, my mage-for-hire had enchanted the blades so that I would be better prepared for obstacles to come.
I looked at my host as he emptied my items in front of me. I counted everything there and made sure all was in order. However, my anger was apparent when I noticed that my armor was not in the chest.
“It is in the armoire, Bocata,” Nymn cooed, as if he had expected that reaction from me. It would seem I’m becoming too predictable.
Without waiting for the master of the house to open his own closet, I walked to the door of his armoire and swung it open. Here it was, my life’s work. Rageskin, the barrier that protects the heart of Oti Ni Nuad’s most loyal servant. I gently took it out, caressing the fine metal and tracing it with my finger tips as one might caress an old lover after a long month away at war. After several refreshing minutes, I donned my plate mail armor and slid my swords in their respective scabbards.
“My thanks, Nymn,” I offered, reaching out a hand in order to properly show gratitude as is the human custom, “I could not ask for more of a friend than you.”
I believe there was a blush in the lord’s cheeks. A strange thing that, blushing. I am refreshed that no larcetan has ever had reason to do so.
“Your thanks are not needed, Bocata,” Nymn replied, taking my offered hand. “You are free at last, and we hope that you stay this way.” He gave me a knowing nod.
I took the jab in stride. A younger, less wise Bocata might have taken great offense at such words, but he is the reason I landed myself in this situation in the first place. I nodded in agreement.
“Your kindness will not be forgotten,” Laurel spoke up from behind me. “You are a true friend to be sure.”
A few more pleasantries and ‘thank you’s were exchanged. Nymn offered to check in on us as often as he could to see how we fared. When I told him that we were heading south to the city of Paladium, he swallowed hard.
“It is a ravaged land, you know,” he said, “One that has seen demons and devils char it to black ash.” He posed pensively for a moment. “There is even talk of the undead walking around. If they have not seized Paladium, they will be nearby trying to.”
I nodded my head, “I have arranged for a few of my friends to meet me outside the city. Together, we shall vanquish the foes that besiege that town and restore it to its proper glory.”
Schmuck and Braegleoth opted to stay behind and work for Lord Nymn. However, I do not doubt that I shall need the troll and the girallon’s aid in the near future. Nor do I doubt that either will be hesitant to agree to any request I might make.
As we walked out of town, Rhen told me more of his powers. He was able to shift shapes as often as he liked, though he was not restricted to natural animals. The elder druids where I come from are capable of such feats of the body, but nothing to the magnitude that he could manifest.
After a few hours of travel, Rhen noticed that we were not going in a southerly direction.
“I believe that you want to go a little more to your left, sir knight,” the gnome said. “Paladium does not lie in the sea.”
I cast a sidelong glance at the little man, “I am aware of where Paladium is, sir…gnome. However, I am meeting a friend outside the city of Ayr who will be traveling with us.”
All the little gnome would say in reply was “Oh.”
After four days of marching and resting little, we came upon the appointed meeting spot. Jonas stepped out of the woods and hailed us.
“Greetings, master bard,” I said aloud, “Have you waited long?”
Jonas looked up at the sun and shook his head, “Only half a day. I had some things of my own to take care of.” He spoke softer as he walked forwards. “However, I do have some news for you.”
I am still amazed at the resourcefulness of this creature called Jonas. I have not asked for any information, yet he seems to be a wealth of it.
“A column of 50 knights comes from the north,” he said, “they look to hail from Hammerfell.”
Knights? What business would a column of knights have moving about in a time of peace? I chuckled inwardly at this. One could hardly call this peace, in my book, but that is another discussion.
“Friend or foe?” I asked.
“I believe that they are friendly,” Jonas replied, “Sir Oden leads them. He is a respectable knight and paladin to Equitas*. I think we might have an ally in him.”
I grinned. A paladin! What luck! And with a cadre of 49 knights behind him. This is good news indeed. I could not ask for a better start to my campaign.
“Can you play herald to them, Jonas?” I asked, “We would like to enlist their aid, perhaps, and we need to be diplomatic about this. I fear that diplomacy is not my strong point.”
“I have heard of your attempts at diplomacy, good knight,” Jonas chuckled, “and I have to say that some are good with swords, but others can wield words with far more potency.” Jonas laughed at his own joke.
I shrugged nonchalantly. “That may be true, sir bard. But let it be known that those who use words in such a way often find them hard to come by when the used of their mouth is denied by steel.” It wasn’t a challenge, just an observation.
Jonas returned my shrug and made out to the northeast, where he would meet with the column of knights when they turned for Ladoon.
“I shall go with you,” I told him, “it seems as though these people share my mind and views. I will speak to Sir Oden.”
As Jonas and I started towards the road between Ayr and Ladoon, Laurel called to me.
“I will be in the forest,” she said, “I have something to take care of.”
I looked at her quizzically. All she could offer was a slight nod of her head and a sad look in her eyes. I knew instantly what she was doing, then. She was trying to replace Damien** and I knew it was going to be tough for her.
“Archivell,” I looked toward the priest, “have the food ready upon our return.”
He looked at me hopelessly, “I have no means of hunting food, lord. But I am a fairly decent cook.”
Rhen chimed up then, “I will find us food.”
Just then, the little gnome’s bones begin to bend and break in unusual ways. He grew in size and apparent strength. He also grew more hideous as he grew taller. In a matter of a few short seconds this shapechanger turned himself into an ogre. Then, as if nothing had just happened, he went traipsing off into the forest looking for food.
“Keep an eye on Laurel.” I called after him. He grunted his understanding.
“Let us go, Jonas,” I said to the bard, “I am locked up for a year and the world goes to hell in a handbasket.”
*Equitas is the god of justice in our world.
**Damien was Laurel's last familiar. It has been 18 months since her loss and she's greived the entire time. Bocata realizes that summoning a new is necessary, but difficult. He laments the loss of his own mount.
