Session 21 (Part Two)
Hangman’s Noose?
Panic momentarily swept through the collective party’s consciousness, followed closely by confusion as the bound and mangled form of their erstwhile mage prisoner was unceremoniously dumped beside them. Antoinine Sestius’s withered face split in a feral grin and he spoke in a low, venomous voice.
“So, after much searching and trouble, you are brought before us…” The old man paused for breath, wheezing. Those seated more than a few paces leaned in to hear the soft words better “Clearly, you…”
“CLEARLY!” Lady Andrimia’s smooth voice easily overpowered the elder Sestius’s words. “Clearly these brave souls have uncovered a vile plot within our fair city and rendered an invaluable service!”
The old merchant’s face twisted in anger and he attempted to regain the stage, but Lady Andrimia swept out before the head table to stand before the companions, surreptitiously winking at Quintus as she came.
“Come now, Master Sestius,” she purred, “surely you have heard the same rumors that have reached even the deafest ear in town…that you and the vicious rogue Maythrax where one in the same. Yet these brave lads and lass have captured the imposter that sought to harm your reputation and standing…truly a fine deed!”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd and Lady Andrimia shot Antoinine Sestius a brilliant, disarming and completely false smile. Crimson slowly spread across the old man’s face as momentum turned against him and he slumped in his seat, grumbling and cursing under his breath.
Andrimia strode across the dais and back again, appealing to the assembled notables with flourishes and a ringing voice. “In fact, they have undoubtedly done all of us a major service by ridding our town of a profound nuisance on the eve of the Legate’s visit. I am sure a through investigation would find that this pitiful man is indeed the criminal Maythrax, altered through foul magic!”
She completely held the crowd’s attention and used her command performance to maximum effect.
“Acting Bishop Patroclian, would you be so kind as to dispel any enchantments on this man…if the Lightbringer will be so kind.”
Abbott Patroclian shifted uneasily in his seat for a moment, as much from the appellation as the request, then nodded and rose in acquiescence. He produced his holy symbol and spoke quiet words of power. Bluish-white light flared for a moment and several in the party found themselves missing Brother Lew acutely. Antoinine Sestius’s visage and form melted away, revealing a tall, thin man with a pockmarked face and unruly thatch of salt-and-pepper hair. The crowd gasped.
“Just as I thought,” Lady Andrimia crowed triumphantly. She motioned toward the door and intoned imperiously. “Bring in the other two prisoners!”
Two battered men in bloody Shadowblade garb were led into the room. Rowan arched an eyebrow and exchanged perplexed glances with Sextus…one of the men bore an uncannily resemblance to a member of Captain Rook’s piratical crew.
“You two…look closely at this man.” She waited while they complied. “Is he your master? The one known as Maythrax?”
The pair bent down to look at the crumpled form and the one Rowan recognized whispered something in the other man’s ear and nudged him slightly. The other man began to quake, looked at Lady Andrimia with a bloodless face and nodded mutely.
“What’s that, man?”
A thin, reedy voice replied, “Yes, m’lady…that’s ‘im alright.”
Another, louder murmur swept through the gathering. Quintus snuck a look at Antoinine Sestius, who was busy making gurgling noises and unsuccessfully trying to kill Lady Andrimia with his baleful gaze.
The party’s ally let the buzz continue for a few grains, then held her hands up for silence before whirling and facing the head table, hands on her hips a look of determination on her face.
“What say ye, fair and just members of the Merchant’s Council? Have those before us not rendered the citizens of Oar a great service? Release their bonds, I say, and welcome them to our collective bosoms with open arms! What say ye?”
The briefest of knowing smiles flitted across Sextus’s face as the room erupted in shouts of acclaim and cheers. ‘That,’ thought the bard with admiration, ‘was a masterful performance!’
If Antoinine Sestius protested, it was lost in the uproar. Several merchants and other notables crowded around the party, thumping them heartily on the shoulder and offering hands of thanks. Captain Rook breezed through, grinning and nodding. When the tumult subsided a bit, another voice cut through the air.
“Good people of Oar. I know not how things are done in the Old Provinces in this day, but it has ever been an Emorian custom to vote those that have done the public great good a suitable stipend from the public purse…something to show goodwill and spur others to do their civic duty.”
Quintus glanced over and caught the steady, penetrating gaze of the Emorian Legate. The man inclined his head a finger’s width and the ghost of a smile floated over his lips. Quintus inclined his head in return.
Lady Andrimia didn’t miss a beat. “A fine suggestion by our Imperial guest…I call for a 10,000 denarii reward for our heroes!”
The other councilors exchanged surprised glances, but the cries of ‘hear, hear’ and ‘huzzah’ quickly dampened any resistance to the idea. They all nodded in agreement. All, that is, except for Antoinine Sestius. The withered merchant sat stock still, staring at the table, cursing silently and foaming at the mouth. Lady Andrimia turned and winked at them again, a broad smile on her face.
Rosë glanced at his companions, a look of utter confusion on his face. “What the hell just happened?”
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 21 (Part Three) – Complications, Complications and Yet More Complications
~ Old One
Hangman’s Noose?
Panic momentarily swept through the collective party’s consciousness, followed closely by confusion as the bound and mangled form of their erstwhile mage prisoner was unceremoniously dumped beside them. Antoinine Sestius’s withered face split in a feral grin and he spoke in a low, venomous voice.
“So, after much searching and trouble, you are brought before us…” The old man paused for breath, wheezing. Those seated more than a few paces leaned in to hear the soft words better “Clearly, you…”
“CLEARLY!” Lady Andrimia’s smooth voice easily overpowered the elder Sestius’s words. “Clearly these brave souls have uncovered a vile plot within our fair city and rendered an invaluable service!”
The old merchant’s face twisted in anger and he attempted to regain the stage, but Lady Andrimia swept out before the head table to stand before the companions, surreptitiously winking at Quintus as she came.
“Come now, Master Sestius,” she purred, “surely you have heard the same rumors that have reached even the deafest ear in town…that you and the vicious rogue Maythrax where one in the same. Yet these brave lads and lass have captured the imposter that sought to harm your reputation and standing…truly a fine deed!”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd and Lady Andrimia shot Antoinine Sestius a brilliant, disarming and completely false smile. Crimson slowly spread across the old man’s face as momentum turned against him and he slumped in his seat, grumbling and cursing under his breath.
Andrimia strode across the dais and back again, appealing to the assembled notables with flourishes and a ringing voice. “In fact, they have undoubtedly done all of us a major service by ridding our town of a profound nuisance on the eve of the Legate’s visit. I am sure a through investigation would find that this pitiful man is indeed the criminal Maythrax, altered through foul magic!”
She completely held the crowd’s attention and used her command performance to maximum effect.
“Acting Bishop Patroclian, would you be so kind as to dispel any enchantments on this man…if the Lightbringer will be so kind.”
Abbott Patroclian shifted uneasily in his seat for a moment, as much from the appellation as the request, then nodded and rose in acquiescence. He produced his holy symbol and spoke quiet words of power. Bluish-white light flared for a moment and several in the party found themselves missing Brother Lew acutely. Antoinine Sestius’s visage and form melted away, revealing a tall, thin man with a pockmarked face and unruly thatch of salt-and-pepper hair. The crowd gasped.
“Just as I thought,” Lady Andrimia crowed triumphantly. She motioned toward the door and intoned imperiously. “Bring in the other two prisoners!”
Two battered men in bloody Shadowblade garb were led into the room. Rowan arched an eyebrow and exchanged perplexed glances with Sextus…one of the men bore an uncannily resemblance to a member of Captain Rook’s piratical crew.
“You two…look closely at this man.” She waited while they complied. “Is he your master? The one known as Maythrax?”
The pair bent down to look at the crumpled form and the one Rowan recognized whispered something in the other man’s ear and nudged him slightly. The other man began to quake, looked at Lady Andrimia with a bloodless face and nodded mutely.
“What’s that, man?”
A thin, reedy voice replied, “Yes, m’lady…that’s ‘im alright.”
Another, louder murmur swept through the gathering. Quintus snuck a look at Antoinine Sestius, who was busy making gurgling noises and unsuccessfully trying to kill Lady Andrimia with his baleful gaze.
The party’s ally let the buzz continue for a few grains, then held her hands up for silence before whirling and facing the head table, hands on her hips a look of determination on her face.
“What say ye, fair and just members of the Merchant’s Council? Have those before us not rendered the citizens of Oar a great service? Release their bonds, I say, and welcome them to our collective bosoms with open arms! What say ye?”
The briefest of knowing smiles flitted across Sextus’s face as the room erupted in shouts of acclaim and cheers. ‘That,’ thought the bard with admiration, ‘was a masterful performance!’
If Antoinine Sestius protested, it was lost in the uproar. Several merchants and other notables crowded around the party, thumping them heartily on the shoulder and offering hands of thanks. Captain Rook breezed through, grinning and nodding. When the tumult subsided a bit, another voice cut through the air.
“Good people of Oar. I know not how things are done in the Old Provinces in this day, but it has ever been an Emorian custom to vote those that have done the public great good a suitable stipend from the public purse…something to show goodwill and spur others to do their civic duty.”
Quintus glanced over and caught the steady, penetrating gaze of the Emorian Legate. The man inclined his head a finger’s width and the ghost of a smile floated over his lips. Quintus inclined his head in return.
Lady Andrimia didn’t miss a beat. “A fine suggestion by our Imperial guest…I call for a 10,000 denarii reward for our heroes!”
The other councilors exchanged surprised glances, but the cries of ‘hear, hear’ and ‘huzzah’ quickly dampened any resistance to the idea. They all nodded in agreement. All, that is, except for Antoinine Sestius. The withered merchant sat stock still, staring at the table, cursing silently and foaming at the mouth. Lady Andrimia turned and winked at them again, a broad smile on her face.
Rosë glanced at his companions, a look of utter confusion on his face. “What the hell just happened?”
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 21 (Part Three) – Complications, Complications and Yet More Complications
~ Old One
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