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An Adventure in Five Acts (AD&D 2E) (Final Update 25 Feb 2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="ilgatto" data-source="post: 8868112" data-attributes="member: 86051"><p><strong><span style="font-size: 18px">An Adventure in Five Acts, </span></strong><span style="font-size: 18px"><strong>Act III (Continued)</strong></span></p><p></p><p>And so it is that our heroes hastily collect their things and start running back to the cliff at the other side of the plateau. When they get there, they see that <em>The Black Owl</em> has lifted anchor and is presently <em>en route</em> to the open sea with all hands on deck.</p><p><em>"Mon Dieu!,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> exclaims. “Another ship! Over there!”</p><p>And sure enough, there is another ship in the waters below. It flies no flag and it is heading for <em>The Black Owl</em> at speed. Many men are seen on the deck and it seems to gain rapidly on <em>The Black Owl,</em> which is maneuvering frantically in an attempt get away from the beach. Sir Oengus excitedly explains to his noble fellows what is going on below, speaking much of hauling to the wind, tacking, riding currents, and coming about.</p><p>In the end, <em>The Black Owl</em> seems to catch the right wind and pick up speed.</p><p>“She’s in the wind!,” Sir Oengus shouts. “She’s much faster! She’s getting away!”</p><p>Our noble heroes continue to watch <em>The Black Owl</em> pulling away until the second ship suddenly makes a sharp turn and starts heading for the island.</p><p>“<em>Mes amis!,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> cries. “An invasion is imminent! We must destroy the staircase!”</p><p>“Impossible,” Sir Suvali says. “There is no time.”</p><p>“We’ll have to do something,” Navarre says. “With <em>The Black Owl</em> gone, we’re trapped here.”</p><p>“I’ll make a stand right there,” Sir Eber says, pointing at the last step. “I’ll have the advantage.”</p><p></p><p>Yet another animated discussion ensues and plans are made and rejected and made again and rejected again. After a while, Navarre, who hasn’t taken part in the debate for once, decides to try and put an end to it.</p><p>“Gentlemen!,” he calls. “If I may? That ship will be here soon and this leaves us no time to build anything like a strong enough defense. And even if we should manage to hold the plateau, all the enemy has to do is lay siege and wait for reinforcements or until we all die from hunger and thirst. I suggest we have Suvali fly us to the mainland with his flying contraption one by one.”</p><p>The sorcerer looks at him in some consternation.</p><p>“The apparatus cannot carry two,” he says.</p><p>“Then one of us must use that thing that thing to get the sword to the mainland,” Navarre says. “It cannot be you, since we will need your magic here.”</p><p>But this seems to alarm the sorcerer even more.</p><p>“Impossible!,” he cries, before coming up with a myriad of excuses why no one but him can use the apparatus on his back. “Flying this thing is too difficult! The wind is too strong! I have to cast a spell to make it work!”</p><p>“Magic?,” Navarre muses. “Then it would seem that we have a problem.”</p><p>Now, Sir Oengus takes center stage.</p><p>“Friends,” he begins. “Allow me to tell you a story. It be the legend of Treasure Island, a tale of heroic…”</p><p>“My dear chap,” Navarre interrupts his noble fellow. “As much as we like your stories, I don’t think there is time for one right now. Do you have a suggestion?”</p><p>“Aye,” Sir Oengus says. “I say we let them get to the plateau and all way to the house. Meanwhile, we will board the ship unseen and take it by night.”</p><p>“A good plan,” Navarre agrees. “But how will we sail the ship? The waters are treacherous and sailors we are not.”</p><p>“There will always be the captain and a skeleton crew aboard,” Sir Oengus says. “We’ll take them alive and force them to sail the ship. Pay them if we have to. I have yet to meet a hand who cannot be bought with a large bag of silver.”</p><p>“<em>Bravo!,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> cries. “But we need time! We shall send one or two of us to the ship while the others set up multiple lines of defense on the plateau. We will keep the louts occupied until you signal the all clear!”</p><p>“Aye,” Sir Oengus says pensively. “But we must weigh anchor as soon as we are in command of the ship lest the bilge rats have a chance to mount a counterattack we cannot survive. So how do I get the rest of you aboard before that?”</p><p>“True,” Navarre says. “And how will the rest of us keep the enemy occupied long enough? How do we make sure they do not conclude that the sword is no longer here and return to the ship before we are in control of it?”</p><p></p><p>It is a brilliant, daring plan but our noble heroes cannot seem to make it work and, since the enemy ship is getting ever closer, Navarre has started to consider other ways to get off the island again. He has a long look at some of the giant albatrosses but decides that the creatures probably won’t be able to carry grown men.</p><p>“Is there no magical way to leave the island?,” he ends up asking Sir Suvali. “What did the Rector do to get us off Apple Island?”</p><p>“It’s called <em>dimensional folding,”</em> the sorcerer says. “Wait… Yes. Perhaps… I’ll be right back!”</p><p>He starts running back to the hut, leaving the rest of our noble heroes to get on with trying to make Sir Oengus’ plan work. When he returns some time later, they haven’t really come up with anything solid.</p><p>“It could be possible to leave the island via the magical diagram,” he says. “But I’m not at all sure how that would work and the risk is far too high. So I suggest we use the Loremaster’s crystal wand. It can reduce things in size and weight for a day and a night and I’ll use it on all of you. I’ll put you in a bag and fly to the mainland with the flying apparatus.”</p><p>It is a brilliant plan and his noble fellows start cheering loudly. But the sorcerer raises his hand, a pompous look on his face.</p><p>“Wait,” he says. “I still need time to practice with the apparatus and you must keep the invaders on the beach for as long as possible. You must make a stand here and use bows and rocks to keep them on the beach.”</p><p>He pauses and looks at his noble fellows for dramatic effect.</p><p>“There is but a single snag,” he continues. “I don’t know if the wand has enough power to affect all of you. If it hasn’t, it will mean that some of you will have to remain here.”</p><p>“<em>Montjoie Saint-Denis!,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> cries. “I shall be the last!”</p><p>“Why not leave the island right now?,” Navarre asks. “Before the enemy knows we are here?”</p><p>“They know,” the sorcerer says. “They saw <em>The Black Owl.</em> And I need more practice before I can fly to the mainland.”</p><p>“I stand corrected,” Navarre says. “Reduce me before you get to the <em>chevalier.”</em></p><p>“Then it is agreed,” the sorcerer says. “Start gathering rocks and I will start practicing. I will return at the very last moment and start using the wand.”</p><p>The <em>chevalier</em> bows elegantly.</p><p>“Then it is <em>au revoir</em> for now, <em>mon ami!,”</em> he cries. <em>“Messieurs!</em> Let us start reinforcing our positions!”</p><p>“Right on time,” Sir Oengus says, pointing at the sea below. “The ship will be here in half an hour.”</p><p></p><p>The next half hour, our noble heroes work like serfs, hauling rocks and building low walls along the edge of the plateau. Since it took them about a quarter of an hour to get from the beach to the plateau, they gather they may have close to half an hour before the enemy can get anywhere close to the top of the steps after they have landed. Using bows, crossbows, and rocks, our noble heroes should be able to wreak considerable havoc among the invaders until then.</p><p>When the enemy ship has entered the bay without incident and starts maneuvering to the beach, our noble heroes know that the moment of truth is nigh. When the ship reaches the beach and drops anchor, numerous pinnaces are lowered into the water and armed men start climbing into them. Sir Oengus estimates that there at least 150 men on the ship, some 60 of which appear to be irregulars, bandits of some kind. Another 30 are clad in the strange, full-metal armor and an equal number appear to be mercenaries, wearing brown leather armor or something like it. Of all of these, some 120 are now rowing to the beach.</p><p>With a flourish, the <em>chevalier</em> procures a bottle of wine from his pack.</p><p>“<em>Mes amis,”</em> he says, uncorking the bottle. <em>“Du vin?”</em></p><p>Our noble heroes take turns drinking from the bottle until Sir Oengus tells them that the pinnaces are in range.</p><p>“Fire at will!,” he yells.</p><p>[ATTACH=full]271156[/ATTACH]</p><p>With this, volleys of bolts and arrows start raining down on the pinnaces. When the invaders reach the beach, orders are hollered and the iron-clad men and mercenaries jump overboard and start pulling the pinnaces onto the sand, where they turn them over to provide cover. The bandits start moving up the beach, most of them armed with slings and unarmored, using only light, buckler-like shields to try and protect themselves from the arrows and bolts raining down on them.</p><p>When the first of the bandits reach the steps, Sir Oerknal discards his heavy crossbow and starts dropping rocks onto the ascending bandits climbing the steps. The others continue firing arrows and bolts to great effect, rarely missing a shot. After some five minutes of this, about a third of the advancing bandits are wounded.</p><p>“I’m shooting at the anchor line!,” Sir Oengus says to Navarre, who lies next to him.</p><p>“Good luck with that!,” Navarre yells back at him, hitting another bandit in the shoulder. “By Olm! Peasants! Sending in the missile troops first!”</p><p></p><p>Five minutes later, the bandits get to where the waterfall meets the steps. They start crossing the slippery steps at speed, bucklers raised, and now the first of them die: two men slip and fall down to the beach screaming and a third follows them with an arrow in his throat. By the time all bandits have crossed the water, more than half of them are wounded and most of these halt their advance, pressing their backs against the cliff, bucklers held high. Now, Sir Eber also starts dropping rocks on them and it must be said that he does so to great effect: soon, more bandits join the agonized screams of the wounded on the beach, clutching broken limbs or worse.</p><p>But still many bandits continue the ascent and they must be about three-quarters of the way up when Sir Suvali appears. He procures his magical wand and points it at Sir Oerknal, who instantly becomes even smaller than he already was. The sorcerer picks him up and puts him in a bag while the others continue raining death on the bandits below. The next one to go is Sir Oengus, then comes Navarre, then Sir Eber and, finally, the <em>chevalier.</em> By this time, 42 of the enemy forces are either wounded or dead.</p><p></p><p>When the <em>chevalier</em> is in the bag, Sir Suvali starts running. He turns left about halfway across the plateau, charges up the slope and hurls himself over the edge among a flurry of albatrosses and seagulls. He struggles with the controls for a bit but manages to keep his altitude until the wind from the Straights catches him and blows him dawnward and up into the air.</p><p>It takes him some effort and time before he is on a straight course to the mainland and he presently starts looking for a safe place to land. Before him, the cliffs stretch to the left and right, some 200 feet high. He spots what seems to be a sheltered depression in the trees on the top of the cliffs and steers toward it. It takes him about 20 minutes to get close to the coast, where a violent rising wind blows him high into the air and sends him hurtling past his chosen landing point.</p><p>When he finally regains control, the flying sorcerer is soaring high above the woods, which stretch for miles and miles into the distance. Far, far away, he can see the peaks of the rimward mountains, beyond which, as he now knows, must be <em>terra incognita.</em> Having missed his landing spot and noticing that it is already late in the afternoon, he now decides to fly as far rimward as he dares. A thermal current catches him and then a strong wind starts blowing him further and further rimward.</p><p>Inside the bag, Sir Oerknal, the minuscule, newly elected King of the Realm, farts.</p><p></p><p>Some two hours later, his efforts are beginning to take their toll on the flying sorcerer. Flying the apparatus requires all of his concentration all of the time and, even then, he cannot always make it do what he wants. He decides that enough is enough and initiates a descent to the forest below, where he soon spots a clearing of sorts. When he touches down, the area turns out to be marshy and soggy and he stumbles for some two dozen yards before he can come to a complete standstill. Exhausted, he releases his noble fellows from the bag.</p><p>“Stay low until the effect wears off,” he says to his noble fellows, after he has removed the apparatus from his back. “You don’t want to get eaten by the first fox that comes along. I think it’s another five, six days to the River Dawn and civilization. I’ll keep walking until it gets dark and I suggest two of you keep their eyes and ears peeled. Eber? Navarre?”</p><p>He picks up his noble fellows, puts each of them in a pocket of his <em>mage vest</em> and starts walking rimward.</p><p>“Why didn’t we board the ship with that thing?,” Sir Eber asks, after a while. “We could have stayed out of sight until we got back to our own size and then killed the crew and take the ship.”</p><p>“Perhaps the best explanation would be that you did not speak of this when we were discussing our plan of action,” Navarre replies irritably. “Besides, I thought you didn’t want to go anywhere by ship?”</p><p>“Bah,” Sir Eber scoffs. “Think, think, blah. It’s time we started doing something.”</p><p>Navarre decides to let the matter rest. He has decided to keep a low profile as Sir Suvali suggested. Pity, though. Sir Eber’s plan could have worked.</p><p></p><p>Sir Suvali covers several miles before the sun sets and he locates a suitable spot to spend the night. He starts a fire and settles down for a long, waking night.</p><p>Since there is little he can do as long as he is as small as he is, Navarre decides to get some sleep, which means that he is fast asleep when Sir Oengus starts reflecting on how large certain parts of the female body must seem now that he is so small. He is also fortunate to miss out on Sir Oerknal suggesting that he “take a dump in Suvali’s bag” and then see what happens to his excrement when he gets back to normal.</p><p>“Ha, ha, ha,” the creature roars. “Would that leave the wizard with a bag full of sh*t?”</p><p></p><p><strong>Day 8</strong>: Sir Suvali spends most of the day walking rimward with our noble heroes in the pockets of his vest again. Late in the afternoon, almost 24 hours after he used the Loremaster’s wand on his fellows, he locates a suitable spot for a camp and starts a fire. Less than half an hour later, his noble fellows have reverted to their normal size.</p><p>“I didn’t sleep last night and I’m tired,” he says. “I suggest you gentlemen stand guard tonight.”</p><p>Within moments, he is fast asleep.</p><p>When his noble fellows have eaten, they discuss the events of the last few days.</p><p>“Does anybody know where we are at the moment?,” Navarre asks, at some point.</p><p>“About two days inland,” Sir Eber says. “It looks like perhaps another three, four days to the river.”</p><p>“We’ll have to commandeer a barge once we get there,” Navarre says. “It is the fastest way to Sarazin.”</p><p>“Why don’t we go to Big Beach to pick up the <em>Varis?,”</em> Sir Oengus suggests. “It will be fully armed and armored by now! We’ll sail to Sarazin and blow everything out of the water!”</p><p>“Didn’t your smith say it would take months to finish the project?,” Navarre asks.</p><p>“Aye,” Sir Oengus says. “He may have said that.”</p><p>“We’ll have to adopt some sort of disguise,” the <em>chevalier</em> says, looking at the pilgrim’s robes he is still wearing with a miserable look on his face.</p><p>Navarre isn’t so sure but the events of the past couple of days have drained him of the will to start arguing again – at least for now. The others seem to feel the same way and soon most of our noble heroes are fast asleep.</p><p></p><p><strong>Day 9</strong>: Our noble heroes leave at first light to continue their trek to the River Dawn. It must be around midday when the <em>chevalier</em> spots something moving among the trees ahead.</p><p>“Soldiers approaching,” he announces. “Nine of them.”</p><p>He steps forward and, moments later, our noble heroes identify the soldiers as being in the service of a Thuxran baron. A corporal among them is the first to speak.</p><p>“Lords. Welcome to Thuxra.”</p><p>“We are allies,” the <em>chevalier</em> says. “Your leader?”</p><p>“Pardon me, Lord,” the corporal says. “Might I inquire as to your name?”</p><p>“Tell us the latest,” the <em>chevalier</em> says.</p><p>The corporal hesitates.</p><p>“Well, what news?,” the <em>chevalier</em> asks, before waving a hand and adding ‘Scaralat de Sarazin’ as an afterthought.</p><p>“My Lord,” the corporal says. “The King is dead, slain by bandits! People say a tribal war has erupted and that armies are pouring in from the mountains! They have taken Apple Island!”</p><p>“Tell me where the armies are now,” the <em>chevalier</em> says.</p><p>“I couldn’t tell you, my Lord,” the corporal says.</p><p>“We are royalists,” the <em>chevalier</em> says. “We require free passage and horses.”</p><p>“I’m afraid we are on foot, my Lord.”</p><p>“<em>Et alors?,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> cries. ”Where are the nearest stables? Who is in control here? Who speaks for Thuxra? Who speaks for the royalists?”</p><p>“There is much confusion, my Lord,” the corporal says. “It is said that Wyrsn has fallen to the rebels and that some sort of bandit council rules there. Not that the shepherds over there would have put up much of a fight, if you don’t mind my saying, Lord.”</p><p><em>"Pas du tout, pas du tout,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> says with an absentminded gesture. “What of the other duchies?”</p><p>“The trouble seems to be mostly on the other side of the river, my Lord. Thuxra is still under our control and heralds have come from Dara, Bagabuxsha, and Palava to call upon all able-bodied men to take up arms and organize.”</p><p>“How many royalists are here?”</p><p>“All royalists are gathering in Palava, my Lord.”</p><p>“Any men from Sarazin among them?”</p><p>“No, my Lord. So far, only men from Palava, Bagabuxsha, and Dara have been seen there.”</p><p>“Who leads the royalists, corporal?,” Navarre asks.</p><p>“I couldn’t say, my Lord. I hear the army is led by captains and barons.”</p><p>“And what are your orders?,” Navarre asks.</p><p>“We are to look for royalists and inform them of the situation, my Lord.”</p><p>“<em>Et voilà!,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> says. <em>“Messieurs,</em> your have fulfilled your mission. You may assist us.”</p><p>“We can take you to Thuxra, my Lord,” the corporal says.</p><p>“What of the court?,” Navarre asks.</p><p>“It is said that most of them are dead, my Lord,” the corporal says.</p><p>“Then who speaks for Thuxra?”</p><p>“I couldn’t say, my Lord,” the corporal says. “The barons have left for Palava.”</p><p>“<em>Eh, bien!,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> says. “Take us to Thuxra!”</p><p>“Very well, my Lord.”</p><p></p><p>When the company start moving, Navarre addresses the <em>chevalier:</em> “With the royalists converging in Palava, it seems that it will be up to us to secure our own duchies.”</p><p>“Not so, <em>mon cher,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> says. “An army stands or falls with its size and position. We must unite both armies as soon as possible. We cannot fight with an army in pieces. The enemy will take advantage and destroy us one by one.”</p><p>“I stand corrected,” Navarre says with the slightest nod of his head bows. “Where will we gather our barons before we cross the river? Sarazin? Dauberval?”</p><p>“March rimward!?,” the <em>chevalier</em> cries. <em>“Mon cher!</em> We must unite both armies as soon as possible!”</p><p>“I understand that,” Navarre says. “But <em>where</em> do we gather our own armies? Do we call the barons together in a single location and <em>then</em> head for the lake or are we going to let each baron get there on his own? I suppose one could argue…”</p><p>“We must unite the army!,” the <em>chevalier</em> exclaims. “We can only attack <em>en force!”</em></p><p>“I hear you!,” Navarre says angrily. “But do we rally our own armies first or…”</p><p>“We will send messengers to Palava with instructions to await our arrival!,” the <em>chevalier</em> cries. “We will join them with our own armies and march on Apple Island <em>en masse!”</em></p><p>Although mightily peeved that the <em>chevalier</em> doesn’t seem to want to hear him, Navarre has to admit that retaking Apple Island is a brilliant idea – indeed, our noble hero has some trouble accepting that he didn’t think of it himself. Still, honor where honor is due and he congratulates his noble friend.</p><p>“That is an excellent idea!,” he says. “Retaking Apple Island will defeat the bulk of the enemy army and send a strong signal to royalists still hiding in the fiefs! We will have a base of operations!”</p><p>“We must march on the island as soon as possible,” the <em>chevalier</em> says. “Strike when the enemy is still reorganizing.”</p><p>“Agreed,” Navarre says. “Combining the royalists with our own armies should get us some nine hundred men in the field. So far, we’ve seen, what, five hundred enemy soldiers?”</p><p>“We’ll need a lot of barges to be sure,” Sir Oengus adds. “And this may also solve your problem of where to unite the two armies. All we have to do is get all barges to land on Apple Island at the same time.”</p><p>“Excellent thinking!,” Navarre exclaims. “We can sail our own troops down the River Dusk while the royalists advance on Lake River. We will join our forces on the banks of Sarazin and attack!”</p><p>The noble trio continue discussing the plan for a while, with Sir Oengus suggesting they stop in Nisibis before they get to Sarazin.</p><p>“We’ll be sailing up the River Dusk anyway so we’ll pass Nisibis first,” he says. “It seems only logical to stop there to see what we can do there. I could disembark and round up as many barges as I can while you go on to gather your armies. I have a lot of friends among the river folk and many will want to fight for us.”</p><p>“Finally things are coming together!,” Navarre says excitedly. “Barges from Nisibis, horses from Sarazin, men from Dauberval!”</p><p>“Much will depend on whether the enemy is already in Nisibis and Dauberval,” Sir Oengus says. “Or Sarazin, for that matter. Still, if I can’t get any soldiers in Nisibis, I think I can still get all the barges we’ll need.”</p><p></p><p>Some time later, the company take a short break to eat and drink. The noble trio continue discussing tactics and various ways to gather as many men as possible – providing there are still men to gather. When they decide that it is time to get moving again, Sir Eber, Sir Suvali, and Sir Oerknal emerge from the woods.</p><p>“Gentlemen,” the sorcerer says. “The <em>Sword of Shadows</em> has been drawn.”</p><p>The noble trio look at him in stunned silence.</p><p>“So we can tell you that the blade casts a shadow that is longer than it actually is,” the sorcerer continues. “This leads me to believe it may have the reach of a long sword.”</p><p></p><p>Navarre cannot believe his ears. Have these people gone mad? He distinctly remembers Sir Eber agreeing to warn him before he would draw the sword. He distinctly remembers Sir Suvali mentioning the legends that speak of the mayhem and destruction the sword has caused whenever it was drawn. And what happened to the sorcerer claiming that drawing the sword would alert the enemy to its location? And, more importantly, why did the trio break a gentlemen’s agreement?</p><p>The <em>chevalier</em> is the first to react.</p><p>“<em>Messieurs,”</em> he says frostily. “I am at a loss for words. It was agreed that the sword would not be drawn.”</p><p>“We drew it out of sight of the soldiers,” the sorcerer says.</p><p>“That is not what I meant,” the <em>chevalier</em> replies. “Why did you do this?”</p><p>“We have decided that I will use the Loremaster’s wand on Eber if the sword should start exerting some sort of influence on him,” the sorcerer says.</p><p>“Perhaps you have misheard me, <em>monsieur,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> says. “Why did you do this?”</p><p>“Because it is not for you to decide what happens to the sword,” Sir Eber says bluntly.</p><p>The <em>chevalier</em> gives him a blank stare before turning to the sorcerer again.</p><p>“Have you forgotten, <em>monsieur,</em> that the enemy may have the means to detect the sword?,” he asks. “That it was you who argued that the chances of the enemy detecting the weapon would likely increase if it should be drawn?”</p><p>“We took the required precautions,” the sorcerer says.</p><p>“<em>Vraiment?,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> says. “Pray enlighten me as to exactly what it is that you did do to shield the weapon from the divine powers of, <em>disons,</em> the <em>Kettle of the Coven?”</em></p><p></p><p>But the sorcerer continues to wriggle and writhe, slippery as an eel in a bucket of grease, unwilling or unable to answer the <em>chevalier’s</em> direct questions. He repeatedly tries to change the subject, hurls accusations at everyone he can think of, or simply refuses to answer. Eventually, the <em>chevalier</em> puts an end to the whole thing – much, much too politely as far as Navarre is concerned.</p><p>“Your curiosity seems to have overcome your common sense, <em>monsieur,”</em> he says coldly, before turning away from the treacherous sorcerer and his accomplices.</p><p></p><p>Navarre has followed the exchange with barely veiled disgust. What is to be done now? The trio can obviously not be trusted. Can the sword be left in the care of the brainless ranger? Can these men be given the responsibility of leading an army? Can they even be trusted as messengers? He is about to start yelling furiously when Sir Oengus plants his axe in a tree.</p><p>“Your excuses only make things worse, sorcerer,” he growls. “To be sure, the peacocks here may be attempting to force their opinions on us but a man is a man and his word is his word. You want to draw the sword? Fine. But state your case like a man, here, in front of the whole crew, and don’t go about it behind our backs like a thief in the woods.”</p><p>“Well spoken, Sir,” Navarre says, barely able to constrain his anger. “Gentlemen, you have broken your word and endangered our efforts in the process.”</p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px">Upon which, with the party about to implode, the DM seems to decide that enough is enough. He informs our noble heroes that they continue their journey to Thuxra; that they spend the night in the open; and that they arrive at the gates of Thuxra at 11.00 hrs on Day 11.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px">He procures a map and points out that the town of Thuxra is little more than some barrows on a river protected by palisades. Although the town proper would count some 300 souls under normal circumstances, many more are now camping among the barrows and on a veritable fleet of barges on the River Dawn, currently making the place a veritable beehive of activity.</span></p><p></p><p>With the others still reeling and barely able to look each other in the eye, it is the <em>chevalier</em> who decides that the show must go on.</p><p>“You there!,” the <em>chevalier</em> yells at a man in armor, obviously a Palavan army captain. “What news?”</p><p>The man looks at the disheveled <em>chevalier</em> and his companions for a moment.</p><p>“Well?,” the <em>chevalier</em> cries impatiently. “Out with it, man!”</p><p>The captain has another good look at our noble heroes and then seems to decide he’d better take no risks.</p><p>“My Lord,” he says, with a slight nod of the head. “Most of what has happened is unclear. It would seem that most of the Thuxran barons are on their way to Palava following some unsettling news from there.”</p><p>“Most?,” the <em>chevalier</em> asks.</p><p>“It is so, my Lord,” the captain continues. “Some chose to remain to defend their homes from the marauding hordes. Perhaps they prefer to fight on their home turf rather than commit to an uncertain war in Palava.”</p><p>“Who speaks for Thuxra at the moment, captain?,” Navarre asks.</p><p>“That would be His Lordship, Baron Cynfawr, my Lord,” the captain says.</p><p>“Then you can take us there, captain,” Navarre says.</p><p>“His Lordship left five days ago to lead the barons to Palava, my Lord.”</p><p>“Are you saying that there is no one we can speak to at the moment, captain?”</p><p>The captain shrugs apologetically.</p><p>“What of the troops gathering in Palava?,” the <em>chevalier</em> asks.</p><p>“They are what remains of the ducal armies of Palava, Bagabuxsha, Mim, Thuxra, and Dara, my Lord,” the captain says. “All in all, some twenty barons from various duchies will be there by now. My Lord, information is scarce.”</p><p>“What of Wyrsn?,” Sir Eber asks.</p><p>“From Wyrsn comes news that the commoners have revolted, Lord,” the captain says. “It seems to be under the rule of councils by all accounts.”</p><p>“What nonsense is this?,” Navarre asks.</p><p>“It is what most refugees seem to believe, my Lord,” the captain says, nodding at the river.</p><p>When Navarre looks at the river, he sees Sir Oengus approaching.</p><p>“No sails on the lake,” Sir Oengus says. “I’ve found one skipper willing to take us as far as the lake.”</p><p>He turns to the <em>chevalier.</em></p><p>“I’ll need those diamonds of yours.”</p><p>The <em>chevalier</em> looks at his companion in obvious consternation.</p><p>“Smartly now,” Sir Oengus says. “I have to pay the man.”</p><p>When no one speaks for quite some time, the <em>chevalier</em> seems to regain his composure.</p><p>“<em>Mais bien sur!,”</em> he cries, hastily procuring the small bag. “My diamonds are your diamonds!”</p><p>“Follow me, lubbers,” Sir Oengus says, taking the bag and starting back to the river.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ilgatto, post: 8868112, member: 86051"] [B][SIZE=5]An Adventure in Five Acts, [/SIZE][/B][SIZE=5][B]Act III (Continued)[/B][/SIZE] And so it is that our heroes hastily collect their things and start running back to the cliff at the other side of the plateau. When they get there, they see that [I]The Black Owl[/I] has lifted anchor and is presently [I]en route[/I] to the open sea with all hands on deck. [I]"Mon Dieu!,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] exclaims. “Another ship! Over there!” And sure enough, there is another ship in the waters below. It flies no flag and it is heading for [I]The Black Owl[/I] at speed. Many men are seen on the deck and it seems to gain rapidly on [I]The Black Owl,[/I] which is maneuvering frantically in an attempt get away from the beach. Sir Oengus excitedly explains to his noble fellows what is going on below, speaking much of hauling to the wind, tacking, riding currents, and coming about. In the end, [I]The Black Owl[/I] seems to catch the right wind and pick up speed. “She’s in the wind!,” Sir Oengus shouts. “She’s much faster! She’s getting away!” Our noble heroes continue to watch [I]The Black Owl[/I] pulling away until the second ship suddenly makes a sharp turn and starts heading for the island. “[I]Mes amis!,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] cries. “An invasion is imminent! We must destroy the staircase!” “Impossible,” Sir Suvali says. “There is no time.” “We’ll have to do something,” Navarre says. “With [I]The Black Owl[/I] gone, we’re trapped here.” “I’ll make a stand right there,” Sir Eber says, pointing at the last step. “I’ll have the advantage.” Yet another animated discussion ensues and plans are made and rejected and made again and rejected again. After a while, Navarre, who hasn’t taken part in the debate for once, decides to try and put an end to it. “Gentlemen!,” he calls. “If I may? That ship will be here soon and this leaves us no time to build anything like a strong enough defense. And even if we should manage to hold the plateau, all the enemy has to do is lay siege and wait for reinforcements or until we all die from hunger and thirst. I suggest we have Suvali fly us to the mainland with his flying contraption one by one.” The sorcerer looks at him in some consternation. “The apparatus cannot carry two,” he says. “Then one of us must use that thing that thing to get the sword to the mainland,” Navarre says. “It cannot be you, since we will need your magic here.” But this seems to alarm the sorcerer even more. “Impossible!,” he cries, before coming up with a myriad of excuses why no one but him can use the apparatus on his back. “Flying this thing is too difficult! The wind is too strong! I have to cast a spell to make it work!” “Magic?,” Navarre muses. “Then it would seem that we have a problem.” Now, Sir Oengus takes center stage. “Friends,” he begins. “Allow me to tell you a story. It be the legend of Treasure Island, a tale of heroic…” “My dear chap,” Navarre interrupts his noble fellow. “As much as we like your stories, I don’t think there is time for one right now. Do you have a suggestion?” “Aye,” Sir Oengus says. “I say we let them get to the plateau and all way to the house. Meanwhile, we will board the ship unseen and take it by night.” “A good plan,” Navarre agrees. “But how will we sail the ship? The waters are treacherous and sailors we are not.” “There will always be the captain and a skeleton crew aboard,” Sir Oengus says. “We’ll take them alive and force them to sail the ship. Pay them if we have to. I have yet to meet a hand who cannot be bought with a large bag of silver.” “[I]Bravo!,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] cries. “But we need time! We shall send one or two of us to the ship while the others set up multiple lines of defense on the plateau. We will keep the louts occupied until you signal the all clear!” “Aye,” Sir Oengus says pensively. “But we must weigh anchor as soon as we are in command of the ship lest the bilge rats have a chance to mount a counterattack we cannot survive. So how do I get the rest of you aboard before that?” “True,” Navarre says. “And how will the rest of us keep the enemy occupied long enough? How do we make sure they do not conclude that the sword is no longer here and return to the ship before we are in control of it?” It is a brilliant, daring plan but our noble heroes cannot seem to make it work and, since the enemy ship is getting ever closer, Navarre has started to consider other ways to get off the island again. He has a long look at some of the giant albatrosses but decides that the creatures probably won’t be able to carry grown men. “Is there no magical way to leave the island?,” he ends up asking Sir Suvali. “What did the Rector do to get us off Apple Island?” “It’s called [I]dimensional folding,”[/I] the sorcerer says. “Wait… Yes. Perhaps… I’ll be right back!” He starts running back to the hut, leaving the rest of our noble heroes to get on with trying to make Sir Oengus’ plan work. When he returns some time later, they haven’t really come up with anything solid. “It could be possible to leave the island via the magical diagram,” he says. “But I’m not at all sure how that would work and the risk is far too high. So I suggest we use the Loremaster’s crystal wand. It can reduce things in size and weight for a day and a night and I’ll use it on all of you. I’ll put you in a bag and fly to the mainland with the flying apparatus.” It is a brilliant plan and his noble fellows start cheering loudly. But the sorcerer raises his hand, a pompous look on his face. “Wait,” he says. “I still need time to practice with the apparatus and you must keep the invaders on the beach for as long as possible. You must make a stand here and use bows and rocks to keep them on the beach.” He pauses and looks at his noble fellows for dramatic effect. “There is but a single snag,” he continues. “I don’t know if the wand has enough power to affect all of you. If it hasn’t, it will mean that some of you will have to remain here.” “[I]Montjoie Saint-Denis!,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] cries. “I shall be the last!” “Why not leave the island right now?,” Navarre asks. “Before the enemy knows we are here?” “They know,” the sorcerer says. “They saw [I]The Black Owl.[/I] And I need more practice before I can fly to the mainland.” “I stand corrected,” Navarre says. “Reduce me before you get to the [I]chevalier.”[/I] “Then it is agreed,” the sorcerer says. “Start gathering rocks and I will start practicing. I will return at the very last moment and start using the wand.” The [I]chevalier[/I] bows elegantly. “Then it is [I]au revoir[/I] for now, [I]mon ami!,”[/I] he cries. [I]“Messieurs![/I] Let us start reinforcing our positions!” “Right on time,” Sir Oengus says, pointing at the sea below. “The ship will be here in half an hour.” The next half hour, our noble heroes work like serfs, hauling rocks and building low walls along the edge of the plateau. Since it took them about a quarter of an hour to get from the beach to the plateau, they gather they may have close to half an hour before the enemy can get anywhere close to the top of the steps after they have landed. Using bows, crossbows, and rocks, our noble heroes should be able to wreak considerable havoc among the invaders until then. When the enemy ship has entered the bay without incident and starts maneuvering to the beach, our noble heroes know that the moment of truth is nigh. When the ship reaches the beach and drops anchor, numerous pinnaces are lowered into the water and armed men start climbing into them. Sir Oengus estimates that there at least 150 men on the ship, some 60 of which appear to be irregulars, bandits of some kind. Another 30 are clad in the strange, full-metal armor and an equal number appear to be mercenaries, wearing brown leather armor or something like it. Of all of these, some 120 are now rowing to the beach. With a flourish, the [I]chevalier[/I] procures a bottle of wine from his pack. “[I]Mes amis,”[/I] he says, uncorking the bottle. [I]“Du vin?”[/I] Our noble heroes take turns drinking from the bottle until Sir Oengus tells them that the pinnaces are in range. “Fire at will!,” he yells. [ATTACH type="full" alt="5A-5-enworld-assaultisleofbread-pic.png"]271156[/ATTACH] With this, volleys of bolts and arrows start raining down on the pinnaces. When the invaders reach the beach, orders are hollered and the iron-clad men and mercenaries jump overboard and start pulling the pinnaces onto the sand, where they turn them over to provide cover. The bandits start moving up the beach, most of them armed with slings and unarmored, using only light, buckler-like shields to try and protect themselves from the arrows and bolts raining down on them. When the first of the bandits reach the steps, Sir Oerknal discards his heavy crossbow and starts dropping rocks onto the ascending bandits climbing the steps. The others continue firing arrows and bolts to great effect, rarely missing a shot. After some five minutes of this, about a third of the advancing bandits are wounded. “I’m shooting at the anchor line!,” Sir Oengus says to Navarre, who lies next to him. “Good luck with that!,” Navarre yells back at him, hitting another bandit in the shoulder. “By Olm! Peasants! Sending in the missile troops first!” Five minutes later, the bandits get to where the waterfall meets the steps. They start crossing the slippery steps at speed, bucklers raised, and now the first of them die: two men slip and fall down to the beach screaming and a third follows them with an arrow in his throat. By the time all bandits have crossed the water, more than half of them are wounded and most of these halt their advance, pressing their backs against the cliff, bucklers held high. Now, Sir Eber also starts dropping rocks on them and it must be said that he does so to great effect: soon, more bandits join the agonized screams of the wounded on the beach, clutching broken limbs or worse. But still many bandits continue the ascent and they must be about three-quarters of the way up when Sir Suvali appears. He procures his magical wand and points it at Sir Oerknal, who instantly becomes even smaller than he already was. The sorcerer picks him up and puts him in a bag while the others continue raining death on the bandits below. The next one to go is Sir Oengus, then comes Navarre, then Sir Eber and, finally, the [I]chevalier.[/I] By this time, 42 of the enemy forces are either wounded or dead. When the [I]chevalier[/I] is in the bag, Sir Suvali starts running. He turns left about halfway across the plateau, charges up the slope and hurls himself over the edge among a flurry of albatrosses and seagulls. He struggles with the controls for a bit but manages to keep his altitude until the wind from the Straights catches him and blows him dawnward and up into the air. It takes him some effort and time before he is on a straight course to the mainland and he presently starts looking for a safe place to land. Before him, the cliffs stretch to the left and right, some 200 feet high. He spots what seems to be a sheltered depression in the trees on the top of the cliffs and steers toward it. It takes him about 20 minutes to get close to the coast, where a violent rising wind blows him high into the air and sends him hurtling past his chosen landing point. When he finally regains control, the flying sorcerer is soaring high above the woods, which stretch for miles and miles into the distance. Far, far away, he can see the peaks of the rimward mountains, beyond which, as he now knows, must be [I]terra incognita.[/I] Having missed his landing spot and noticing that it is already late in the afternoon, he now decides to fly as far rimward as he dares. A thermal current catches him and then a strong wind starts blowing him further and further rimward. Inside the bag, Sir Oerknal, the minuscule, newly elected King of the Realm, farts. Some two hours later, his efforts are beginning to take their toll on the flying sorcerer. Flying the apparatus requires all of his concentration all of the time and, even then, he cannot always make it do what he wants. He decides that enough is enough and initiates a descent to the forest below, where he soon spots a clearing of sorts. When he touches down, the area turns out to be marshy and soggy and he stumbles for some two dozen yards before he can come to a complete standstill. Exhausted, he releases his noble fellows from the bag. “Stay low until the effect wears off,” he says to his noble fellows, after he has removed the apparatus from his back. “You don’t want to get eaten by the first fox that comes along. I think it’s another five, six days to the River Dawn and civilization. I’ll keep walking until it gets dark and I suggest two of you keep their eyes and ears peeled. Eber? Navarre?” He picks up his noble fellows, puts each of them in a pocket of his [I]mage vest[/I] and starts walking rimward. “Why didn’t we board the ship with that thing?,” Sir Eber asks, after a while. “We could have stayed out of sight until we got back to our own size and then killed the crew and take the ship.” “Perhaps the best explanation would be that you did not speak of this when we were discussing our plan of action,” Navarre replies irritably. “Besides, I thought you didn’t want to go anywhere by ship?” “Bah,” Sir Eber scoffs. “Think, think, blah. It’s time we started doing something.” Navarre decides to let the matter rest. He has decided to keep a low profile as Sir Suvali suggested. Pity, though. Sir Eber’s plan could have worked. Sir Suvali covers several miles before the sun sets and he locates a suitable spot to spend the night. He starts a fire and settles down for a long, waking night. Since there is little he can do as long as he is as small as he is, Navarre decides to get some sleep, which means that he is fast asleep when Sir Oengus starts reflecting on how large certain parts of the female body must seem now that he is so small. He is also fortunate to miss out on Sir Oerknal suggesting that he “take a dump in Suvali’s bag” and then see what happens to his excrement when he gets back to normal. “Ha, ha, ha,” the creature roars. “Would that leave the wizard with a bag full of sh*t?” [B]Day 8[/B]: Sir Suvali spends most of the day walking rimward with our noble heroes in the pockets of his vest again. Late in the afternoon, almost 24 hours after he used the Loremaster’s wand on his fellows, he locates a suitable spot for a camp and starts a fire. Less than half an hour later, his noble fellows have reverted to their normal size. “I didn’t sleep last night and I’m tired,” he says. “I suggest you gentlemen stand guard tonight.” Within moments, he is fast asleep. When his noble fellows have eaten, they discuss the events of the last few days. “Does anybody know where we are at the moment?,” Navarre asks, at some point. “About two days inland,” Sir Eber says. “It looks like perhaps another three, four days to the river.” “We’ll have to commandeer a barge once we get there,” Navarre says. “It is the fastest way to Sarazin.” “Why don’t we go to Big Beach to pick up the [I]Varis?,”[/I] Sir Oengus suggests. “It will be fully armed and armored by now! We’ll sail to Sarazin and blow everything out of the water!” “Didn’t your smith say it would take months to finish the project?,” Navarre asks. “Aye,” Sir Oengus says. “He may have said that.” “We’ll have to adopt some sort of disguise,” the [I]chevalier[/I] says, looking at the pilgrim’s robes he is still wearing with a miserable look on his face. Navarre isn’t so sure but the events of the past couple of days have drained him of the will to start arguing again – at least for now. The others seem to feel the same way and soon most of our noble heroes are fast asleep. [B]Day 9[/B]: Our noble heroes leave at first light to continue their trek to the River Dawn. It must be around midday when the [I]chevalier[/I] spots something moving among the trees ahead. “Soldiers approaching,” he announces. “Nine of them.” He steps forward and, moments later, our noble heroes identify the soldiers as being in the service of a Thuxran baron. A corporal among them is the first to speak. “Lords. Welcome to Thuxra.” “We are allies,” the [I]chevalier[/I] says. “Your leader?” “Pardon me, Lord,” the corporal says. “Might I inquire as to your name?” “Tell us the latest,” the [I]chevalier[/I] says. The corporal hesitates. “Well, what news?,” the [I]chevalier[/I] asks, before waving a hand and adding ‘Scaralat de Sarazin’ as an afterthought. “My Lord,” the corporal says. “The King is dead, slain by bandits! People say a tribal war has erupted and that armies are pouring in from the mountains! They have taken Apple Island!” “Tell me where the armies are now,” the [I]chevalier[/I] says. “I couldn’t tell you, my Lord,” the corporal says. “We are royalists,” the [I]chevalier[/I] says. “We require free passage and horses.” “I’m afraid we are on foot, my Lord.” “[I]Et alors?,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] cries. ”Where are the nearest stables? Who is in control here? Who speaks for Thuxra? Who speaks for the royalists?” “There is much confusion, my Lord,” the corporal says. “It is said that Wyrsn has fallen to the rebels and that some sort of bandit council rules there. Not that the shepherds over there would have put up much of a fight, if you don’t mind my saying, Lord.” [I]"Pas du tout, pas du tout,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] says with an absentminded gesture. “What of the other duchies?” “The trouble seems to be mostly on the other side of the river, my Lord. Thuxra is still under our control and heralds have come from Dara, Bagabuxsha, and Palava to call upon all able-bodied men to take up arms and organize.” “How many royalists are here?” “All royalists are gathering in Palava, my Lord.” “Any men from Sarazin among them?” “No, my Lord. So far, only men from Palava, Bagabuxsha, and Dara have been seen there.” “Who leads the royalists, corporal?,” Navarre asks. “I couldn’t say, my Lord. I hear the army is led by captains and barons.” “And what are your orders?,” Navarre asks. “We are to look for royalists and inform them of the situation, my Lord.” “[I]Et voilà!,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] says. [I]“Messieurs,[/I] your have fulfilled your mission. You may assist us.” “We can take you to Thuxra, my Lord,” the corporal says. “What of the court?,” Navarre asks. “It is said that most of them are dead, my Lord,” the corporal says. “Then who speaks for Thuxra?” “I couldn’t say, my Lord,” the corporal says. “The barons have left for Palava.” “[I]Eh, bien!,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] says. “Take us to Thuxra!” “Very well, my Lord.” When the company start moving, Navarre addresses the [I]chevalier:[/I] “With the royalists converging in Palava, it seems that it will be up to us to secure our own duchies.” “Not so, [I]mon cher,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] says. “An army stands or falls with its size and position. We must unite both armies as soon as possible. We cannot fight with an army in pieces. The enemy will take advantage and destroy us one by one.” “I stand corrected,” Navarre says with the slightest nod of his head bows. “Where will we gather our barons before we cross the river? Sarazin? Dauberval?” “March rimward!?,” the [I]chevalier[/I] cries. [I]“Mon cher![/I] We must unite both armies as soon as possible!” “I understand that,” Navarre says. “But [I]where[/I] do we gather our own armies? Do we call the barons together in a single location and [I]then[/I] head for the lake or are we going to let each baron get there on his own? I suppose one could argue…” “We must unite the army!,” the [I]chevalier[/I] exclaims. “We can only attack [I]en force!”[/I] “I hear you!,” Navarre says angrily. “But do we rally our own armies first or…” “We will send messengers to Palava with instructions to await our arrival!,” the [I]chevalier[/I] cries. “We will join them with our own armies and march on Apple Island [I]en masse!”[/I] Although mightily peeved that the [I]chevalier[/I] doesn’t seem to want to hear him, Navarre has to admit that retaking Apple Island is a brilliant idea – indeed, our noble hero has some trouble accepting that he didn’t think of it himself. Still, honor where honor is due and he congratulates his noble friend. “That is an excellent idea!,” he says. “Retaking Apple Island will defeat the bulk of the enemy army and send a strong signal to royalists still hiding in the fiefs! We will have a base of operations!” “We must march on the island as soon as possible,” the [I]chevalier[/I] says. “Strike when the enemy is still reorganizing.” “Agreed,” Navarre says. “Combining the royalists with our own armies should get us some nine hundred men in the field. So far, we’ve seen, what, five hundred enemy soldiers?” “We’ll need a lot of barges to be sure,” Sir Oengus adds. “And this may also solve your problem of where to unite the two armies. All we have to do is get all barges to land on Apple Island at the same time.” “Excellent thinking!,” Navarre exclaims. “We can sail our own troops down the River Dusk while the royalists advance on Lake River. We will join our forces on the banks of Sarazin and attack!” The noble trio continue discussing the plan for a while, with Sir Oengus suggesting they stop in Nisibis before they get to Sarazin. “We’ll be sailing up the River Dusk anyway so we’ll pass Nisibis first,” he says. “It seems only logical to stop there to see what we can do there. I could disembark and round up as many barges as I can while you go on to gather your armies. I have a lot of friends among the river folk and many will want to fight for us.” “Finally things are coming together!,” Navarre says excitedly. “Barges from Nisibis, horses from Sarazin, men from Dauberval!” “Much will depend on whether the enemy is already in Nisibis and Dauberval,” Sir Oengus says. “Or Sarazin, for that matter. Still, if I can’t get any soldiers in Nisibis, I think I can still get all the barges we’ll need.” Some time later, the company take a short break to eat and drink. The noble trio continue discussing tactics and various ways to gather as many men as possible – providing there are still men to gather. When they decide that it is time to get moving again, Sir Eber, Sir Suvali, and Sir Oerknal emerge from the woods. “Gentlemen,” the sorcerer says. “The [I]Sword of Shadows[/I] has been drawn.” The noble trio look at him in stunned silence. “So we can tell you that the blade casts a shadow that is longer than it actually is,” the sorcerer continues. “This leads me to believe it may have the reach of a long sword.” Navarre cannot believe his ears. Have these people gone mad? He distinctly remembers Sir Eber agreeing to warn him before he would draw the sword. He distinctly remembers Sir Suvali mentioning the legends that speak of the mayhem and destruction the sword has caused whenever it was drawn. And what happened to the sorcerer claiming that drawing the sword would alert the enemy to its location? And, more importantly, why did the trio break a gentlemen’s agreement? The [I]chevalier[/I] is the first to react. “[I]Messieurs,”[/I] he says frostily. “I am at a loss for words. It was agreed that the sword would not be drawn.” “We drew it out of sight of the soldiers,” the sorcerer says. “That is not what I meant,” the [I]chevalier[/I] replies. “Why did you do this?” “We have decided that I will use the Loremaster’s wand on Eber if the sword should start exerting some sort of influence on him,” the sorcerer says. “Perhaps you have misheard me, [I]monsieur,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] says. “Why did you do this?” “Because it is not for you to decide what happens to the sword,” Sir Eber says bluntly. The [I]chevalier[/I] gives him a blank stare before turning to the sorcerer again. “Have you forgotten, [I]monsieur,[/I] that the enemy may have the means to detect the sword?,” he asks. “That it was you who argued that the chances of the enemy detecting the weapon would likely increase if it should be drawn?” “We took the required precautions,” the sorcerer says. “[I]Vraiment?,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] says. “Pray enlighten me as to exactly what it is that you did do to shield the weapon from the divine powers of, [I]disons,[/I] the [I]Kettle of the Coven?”[/I] But the sorcerer continues to wriggle and writhe, slippery as an eel in a bucket of grease, unwilling or unable to answer the [I]chevalier’s[/I] direct questions. He repeatedly tries to change the subject, hurls accusations at everyone he can think of, or simply refuses to answer. Eventually, the [I]chevalier[/I] puts an end to the whole thing – much, much too politely as far as Navarre is concerned. “Your curiosity seems to have overcome your common sense, [I]monsieur,”[/I] he says coldly, before turning away from the treacherous sorcerer and his accomplices. Navarre has followed the exchange with barely veiled disgust. What is to be done now? The trio can obviously not be trusted. Can the sword be left in the care of the brainless ranger? Can these men be given the responsibility of leading an army? Can they even be trusted as messengers? He is about to start yelling furiously when Sir Oengus plants his axe in a tree. “Your excuses only make things worse, sorcerer,” he growls. “To be sure, the peacocks here may be attempting to force their opinions on us but a man is a man and his word is his word. You want to draw the sword? Fine. But state your case like a man, here, in front of the whole crew, and don’t go about it behind our backs like a thief in the woods.” “Well spoken, Sir,” Navarre says, barely able to constrain his anger. “Gentlemen, you have broken your word and endangered our efforts in the process.” [SIZE=3]Upon which, with the party about to implode, the DM seems to decide that enough is enough. He informs our noble heroes that they continue their journey to Thuxra; that they spend the night in the open; and that they arrive at the gates of Thuxra at 11.00 hrs on Day 11. He procures a map and points out that the town of Thuxra is little more than some barrows on a river protected by palisades. Although the town proper would count some 300 souls under normal circumstances, many more are now camping among the barrows and on a veritable fleet of barges on the River Dawn, currently making the place a veritable beehive of activity.[/SIZE] With the others still reeling and barely able to look each other in the eye, it is the [I]chevalier[/I] who decides that the show must go on. “You there!,” the [I]chevalier[/I] yells at a man in armor, obviously a Palavan army captain. “What news?” The man looks at the disheveled [I]chevalier[/I] and his companions for a moment. “Well?,” the [I]chevalier[/I] cries impatiently. “Out with it, man!” The captain has another good look at our noble heroes and then seems to decide he’d better take no risks. “My Lord,” he says, with a slight nod of the head. “Most of what has happened is unclear. It would seem that most of the Thuxran barons are on their way to Palava following some unsettling news from there.” “Most?,” the [I]chevalier[/I] asks. “It is so, my Lord,” the captain continues. “Some chose to remain to defend their homes from the marauding hordes. Perhaps they prefer to fight on their home turf rather than commit to an uncertain war in Palava.” “Who speaks for Thuxra at the moment, captain?,” Navarre asks. “That would be His Lordship, Baron Cynfawr, my Lord,” the captain says. “Then you can take us there, captain,” Navarre says. “His Lordship left five days ago to lead the barons to Palava, my Lord.” “Are you saying that there is no one we can speak to at the moment, captain?” The captain shrugs apologetically. “What of the troops gathering in Palava?,” the [I]chevalier[/I] asks. “They are what remains of the ducal armies of Palava, Bagabuxsha, Mim, Thuxra, and Dara, my Lord,” the captain says. “All in all, some twenty barons from various duchies will be there by now. My Lord, information is scarce.” “What of Wyrsn?,” Sir Eber asks. “From Wyrsn comes news that the commoners have revolted, Lord,” the captain says. “It seems to be under the rule of councils by all accounts.” “What nonsense is this?,” Navarre asks. “It is what most refugees seem to believe, my Lord,” the captain says, nodding at the river. When Navarre looks at the river, he sees Sir Oengus approaching. “No sails on the lake,” Sir Oengus says. “I’ve found one skipper willing to take us as far as the lake.” He turns to the [I]chevalier.[/I] “I’ll need those diamonds of yours.” The [I]chevalier[/I] looks at his companion in obvious consternation. “Smartly now,” Sir Oengus says. “I have to pay the man.” When no one speaks for quite some time, the [I]chevalier[/I] seems to regain his composure. “[I]Mais bien sur!,”[/I] he cries, hastily procuring the small bag. “My diamonds are your diamonds!” “Follow me, lubbers,” Sir Oengus says, taking the bag and starting back to the river. [/QUOTE]
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