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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: 8858529" data-attributes="member: 86051"><p><strong><span style="font-size: 18px">An Adventure in Five Acts, Act II</span></strong><span style="font-size: 18px"><strong> (Continued)</strong></span></p><p></p><p>The <em>Varis</em> is allowed through and soon reaches the next jetty. Sir Oengus drops anchor and remains on board with the novice while the rest of our noble heroes disembark. Navarre sets out to commandeer a horse and when he locates a soldier riding one, the <em>chevalier</em> comes galloping by.</p><p>“See you at the fortress, <em>mon cher!,”</em> he cries, inciting his new horse to an even greater speed.</p><p>After some unexpected resistance, the soldier agrees to lend Navarre his horse on the condition that he will return it to him. Navarre gives him his word as a matter of course and mounts up just when Sir Suvali, Sir Oerknal, and Sir Eber appear. When the noble quartet get to the fortress some time later, they notice the <em>chevalier</em> at the gate – on horseback and obviously furious. When they reach the gates themselves, a seneschal appears.</p><p>“A thousand pardons, my Lords,” the seneschal says, bowing to the assembled noble heroes. “If you would follow me?”</p><p>“<em>L’impudence!,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> exclaims, before charging into the courtyard. “You have not heard the last of this, <em>Monsieur!”</em></p><p></p><p>Navarre dismounts, hands his horse to a stable boy and starts after the seneschal and the others. Our noble heroes are taken into a large barrow and into a hall where many nobles and military men are gathered at tables arranged around a large central fire. Without further ado, Navarre takes off his gloves and addresses the assembly.</p><p>“My Lords,” he starts. “Barons…”</p><p>“…ladies,” Sir Oerknal whispers behind him.</p><p>“… my Ladies,” Navarre continues, annoyed that the creature has caught him out. “The King is dead.”</p><p>Cries of indignation and disbelief follow and Navarre waits for the consternation to die down.</p><p>“I assure you this is true, my Lords,” he continues. “I have seen him die with my own eyes.”</p><p>More consternation follows until Sir Corwin rises and calls for silence.</p><p>“What news of my uncle?,” he asks.</p><p>“His fate is unknown,” Navarre says. “As is that of all others on Apple Island.”</p><p></p><p>After taking a moment to consider this, Sir Corwin invites our noble heroes to his table, where they are treated to some excellent food and drink. They are asked many questions and take their time to answer them as best they can. In turn, Sir Corwin informs them that he has rallied the soldiers of Palava and that he and a number of Bagabuxshan barons have blocked the river to ensure that no one gets past unchecked. He also tells them that he has sent heralds and messengers to all duchies with news of what happened and asking for support.</p><p>“<em>Monsieur!,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> says. “I assure you that House Sarazin is wholly at your service!”</p><p></p><p>As the evening proceeds, our noble heroes and the assembled Palavan courtiers and officers speak of organizing defenses, raising armies, and moving against the enemy as soon as possible. Our noble heroes also learn that some 30 of the King’s men broke out of the Military Academy and that they managed to save around 40 horses.</p><p>During most of this, Sir Oerknal and Sir Eber do not speak much. They have taken seats next to each other at the back of the room and do not seem to approve of the way their noble fellows handle things.</p><p>“Look at them,” Sir Eber says to the creature at some point. “Strutting their stuff and eating and drinking like fat geese. Blah, blah, blah.”</p><p>“Hell, yeah,” Sir Oerknal replies, in what can perhaps best be described as a bit of an anachronism. “Why waste all this time? We should be killing people.”</p><p></p><p>When the conversation once again turns to who may be behind the attack, Navarre suddenly remembers the murderous Theresa. He gets to his feet.</p><p>“My Ladies, Lords,” he says. “Barons. Perhaps our prisoner can shed some light on the subject. Lord Corwin. If you would allow me to bring her before you?”</p><p>And so it is that Theresa is brought into the room, presenting an even sorrier sight than usual. She is on her knees, hands tied behind her back, face still swollen and blue from Sir Oerknal’s blows, hair in disarray, paint running down her face, and smelling as if she hasn’t been allowed to relieve herself properly for quite some time.</p><p>“My Ladies, my Lords,” Navarre starts. “Barons. I bring this wretched creature before you to be judged for her misdeeds. Woman! Are you ready to be tried by your betters?”</p><p>“Silence!,” he roars, when Theresa starts to speak. “You shall speak when spoken to!”</p><p>He turns to Sir Corwin again and continues: “My Lord. I, Navarre Ard Dauberval, acting Duke Dauberval, charge this woman with the unlawful holding of a servant of Ilm, with causing distress to a Lady, with assaulting five peers of the realm, and with the attempted murder of one of the King’s servants. My Lord?”</p><p>“Grave charges, indeed,” Sir Corwin agrees. “What have you to say to this, woman?”</p><p>“I am innocent!,” Theresa yells. “The girl is a thief! These people have stolen my barge!”</p><p>“Do you dare call a servant of Ilm a thief, miscreant?,” Navarre says, glowering at the woman.</p><p>“She’s a thief! She came aboard my barge illegally! She didn’t pay for her passage!”</p><p>“That is no excuse to rob her of her dignity and leave her tied to a bed unattended,” Navarre says.</p><p>“I had to protect myself! She could have been hiding a weapon! I was afraid she would escape!”</p><p>“I remind you that you speak of a servant of Ilm!,” Navarre roars. “I assure you, creature, that I shall not allow you to speak of the Lady in this manner much longer!”</p><p>“She’s a thief,” Theresa whimpers.</p><p>“Do you deny that you drugged myself and my peers with a herbal tea?,” Sir Suvali asks.</p><p>“I do! I didn’t drug anybody!”</p><p>“Lies!,” Sir Suvali yells. “I have examined the tea myself and found it to contain various sleep-inducing herbs.”</p><p>“Fine!,” Theresa yells back. “The tea has some soothing qualities! But nothing like you suggest!”</p><p>“And what of your attempt on the King’s life?,” the sorcerer continues. “Do you deny this as well?”</p><p>“He is an abomination!,” Theresa yells. “I don’t want monsters on my barge!”</p><p>“Your excuses bore this court, woman,” Navarre says, getting tired of the whole thing and rising to his feet again. “Now… I put it to you that you aided and abetted traitors to the Crown! Isn’t it true, Madam, that you ferried soldiers to the island? I remind you that the penalty for this is death by hanging.”</p><p>Now, Theresa panics.</p><p>“No!,” she cries, clasping her hands. “I didn’t see any soldiers! We took to the water at the first sign of trouble! I saw no one! I swear on my poor mother’s grave!”</p><p>Navarre instantly notices the sudden changes in the woman’s voice and manner: she is now definitely less defiant than before and aiding the enemy is something she obviously does not want to be accused of at all costs. He concludes that she and captain Clifford probably did not ferry any soldiers to the island and decides to leave the proceedings to Sir Corwin. He leans back in his chair and gestures a servant for more wine. As a result, he doesn’t register what eventually happens to the murderous captain’s wife, although she is not on the <em>Varis</em> the next day.</p><p></p><p>When the meeting draws to a close, Navarre and the <em>chevalier</em> – who has been drinking heavily – accept Sir Corwin’s invitation to spend the night at the barrow. The others return to the <em>Varis</em> but not after Oerknal buys four dogs from someone and gives them to Sir Suvali. When the noble trio board the <em>Varis</em> and inform Sir Oengus of the events at the fortress, the latter turns out to have spent the evening convincing himself once again that he doesn’t want to go to Big Beach.</p><p>“It's madness!,” he yells to Sir Suvali. “The whole country is under attack and we’re here holding some girl’s hand! I will turn this barge around first thing tomorrow and sail for Nisibis!”</p><p>Fortunately, the sorcerer manages to convince him to stick to the plan.</p><p></p><p><strong>Day 4:</strong> Navarre and the <em>chevalier</em> take their leave of Sir Corwin and head back to the jetty at first light, where Navarre returns his horse to its owner. When the noble duo are back on board, the novice approaches.</p><p>“What happened?,” she asks. “I need to know everything!”</p><p>Navarre informs her of the events of last night, as always taking care to avoid any details he considers to be of an upsetting nature. Once again, the novice’s rather violent notions on what should be done with the enemy surprise him.</p><p>“They must hang!,” she exclaims at some point. “All of them! How dare they murder their betters!”</p><p></p><p>Otherwise, the day passes rather uneventfully and Navarre and the <em>chevalier</em> enjoy another bottle or two of the expensive wines. In what seems to be moment of weakness, the <em>chevalier</em> admits to having difficulty coming to terms with what he saw on the island.</p><p>“<em>L’effroi!,”</em> he exclaims at some point. <em>“Mon cher! La horreur!</em> I shall forever be haunted by it!”</p><p>Navarre says nothing, too polite to expand on what is surely a fleeting moment of weakness. He hasn’t allowed himself to think about the matter much, instead focusing on the matters at hand.</p><p></p><p>For the rest of the day, Navarre doesn’t stop hailing barges from time to time but his attempts to get some information about what happened in Big Beach do not lead to much more than already knows. Most people he talks to seem to think that the town’s beggars and thieves went on a rampage and that that was that.</p><p>“A diversion, perhaps?,” the <em>chevalier</em> suggests.</p><p></p><p><strong>Day 5:</strong> Late in the afternoon, just when Navarre and the <em>chevalier</em> are about to finish the last of the expensive wines, Sir Oengus announces that Big Beach approaches. Indeed, the river has widened to some 150 yards and the forests have given way to a dune-like landscape with rocky outcroppings. Sandbanks and pebble-strewn islets have appeared in the river, forcing Sir Oengus to steer the <em>Varis</em> through ever narrower fairways.</p><p>Downstream, our noble heroes can see much farther into the distance than they could so far and they presently look out over a vast, open area underneath a cloudy sky. The traffic has increased notably, with all manner of vessels gathering around scores of jetties on islets and both banks of the river. Buildings appear everywhere, a mixture of all kinds of barrows, wooden structures, and even some stone buildings, many of them obviously dedicated to a multitude of maritime trades: there are boathouses, small docks, net-makers, salters. Far ahead, on the beach, are two enormous vessels unlike our noble heroes have ever seen, as well as more wooden structures and constructs. Judging by the number of buildings they see, our noble heroes estimate that Big Beach may be home to perhaps as much as 5,000 permanent residents.</p><p></p><p>[ATTACH=full]269593[/ATTACH]</p><p>Sir Oengus steers the <em>Varis</em> as far downriver as he can get it – which is halfway down the island-strewn area, to where the river actually disappears – and now our noble heroes have their first comprehensive view of the beach. It seems to run some two kilometers to the sea and stretches all the way from dawn to dusk. Starting some distance from the low dunes that mark the end of the river, a wide strip of what seems to be brackish water smothered in algae leads to the sea, in effect dividing the beach in two halves.</p><p>On the sand are an assortment of ships, boats, sleds, and carts, some of them swarming with people and horses. Various wooden structures seem to be dry-docks, with pathways of wooden poles half-buried in the sand leading up to them. Others have large nets drawn over them. Far away, a span of sixteen horses are pulling one of the large vessels into the sea.</p><p>“I do declare!,” Navarre yells to Sir Oengus from the prow. “I have never seen such vessels!”</p><p>“They be sea-ships,” Sir Oengus yells back at him, grinning widely.</p><p>Navarre cannot believe his eyes and ears.</p><p>“Surely you jest, Sir!,” he yells.</p><p>“Ha, ha!,” Sir Oengus laughs. “You better believe it, lubber! They take these beauties out onto the big blue to catch fish!”</p><p>Navarre has never heard of such a ludicrous notion. As far as he knows, no vessel can survive a trip to the sea.</p><p>“And plenty of fish there be out there, to be sure!,” Sir Oengus continues, steering the <em>Varis</em> to a jetty. “Wash up here by the barrelful courtesy of the currents and the winds! Never have to get out for more than a couple of leagues before the nets be brimming!”</p><p></p><p>Navarre casts him a suspicious glance but then the novice appears next to him and hails the first man she sees on the jetty.</p><p>“Pardon!,” she yells. “Sir! Where can I find Loremaster Fist?”</p><p>“Right bank, missus,” the man yells back. “Straight as she goes. Last house on the beach!”</p><p>Navarre regains his composure and suggests the novice prepare herself for the journey ahead. When she doesn’t answer and starts climbing down the rope ladder to the jetty unattended, he alerts the <em>chevalier: </em>“Scaralat! The Lady requires our assistance!”</p><p>And so our noble duo have to hurry after the rapidly disappearing novice.</p><p></p><p>Just before they catch up, the <em>chevalier</em> stops Navarre in his stride.</p><p>“A word among gentlemen, Sir,” he says, extending his hand to his noble fellow. “It seems only appropriate that we shall lead the effort under your command. I shall lead the cavalry myself.”</p><p>Navarre pauses and shakes his noble friend’s hand.</p><p>“<em>Mon colonel,”</em> he says, with a slight bow of his head.</p><p></p><p>After some more hurrying after the novice through the dunes and with their noble fellows in tow, our noble duo eventually reach what must be the home of Loremaster Fist at the end of the path they are on. It is a long, stone structure on a low dune at the foot of a tall rock jutting from the sand like a finger. It seems to consist of three separate homes in a row, each with its own entrance. Attached to the back is a large wooden hangar, a pathway of half-buried wooden poles connecting it to the beach. On the other side of the path our noble duo are on, running away from them along the front of the building, are four walled-off sections, the first three containing all kinds of plants and low shrubs and the fourth a lone, stone bench with a splendid view of the beach and the sea beyond.</p><p></p><p>The novice finally comes to a halt, apparently in doubt.</p><p>“My Lady,” Navarre asks. “Do you know which one is the Loremaster’s house?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” the novice says. “I was sent to ask a specific question and that’s it.”</p><p>Without further ado, she heads for the first door and knocks on it, the <em>chevalier</em> hurrying to her side. Navarre takes a few steps back to look at the chimneys and he notices smoke coming from those of the second and third houses. Now, Sir Eber, Sir Oerknal, and Sir Suvali arrive, the sorcerer immediately turning his attention to the three gardens. Navarre turns to look at the third house, where some stone steps lead up to the front door. Assuming this to be the one where people might actually live – the others being perhaps ateliers or barns – he advances to the steps.</p><p>“I say!,” he yells. “Hello in there?”</p><p>After some more yelling, a short young man with light hair appears in the door of the second house. Navarre approaches.</p><p>“Loremaster Fist, I presume?,” he says.</p><p>“Not me, Lord,” the youngster says. “I be just a tenant and they call me… Tim. I sail on <em>The Black Owl.”</em></p><p>He nods to the beach, presumably to one of the sea-ships on it.</p><p>“I see,” Navarre says. “Where is the Loremaster?”</p><p>“Can’t say to be sure, Lord,” Tim says. “It be just the gravedigger and us hands here.”</p><p>“A <em>gravedigger?,”</em> Navarre says, putting his hand to his sword and turning to the <em>chevalier </em>and the novice.</p><p>“Scaralat!,” he yells. “There is a gravedigger in the last house!”</p><p>Strangely, the <em>chevalier</em> seems to take this as his cue to move to the back of the building and into the hangar.</p><p></p><p>Navarre has a quick look around to see where his noble fellows are. Sir Suvali is in one of the small gardens; Sir Eber and Sir Oerknal are sitting on the low stone wall surrounding another, observing the goings-on with a bored look on their face; Sir Oengus is nowhere to be seen.</p><p>He moves to the novice’s side, who is listening to Tim explaining that the building is divided into three separate homes, all the property of Loremaster Fist.</p><p>“Loremaster be over there,” Tim says, nodding to the first house. “The gravedigger be to starboard and this ‘ere be where we take a caulk when the ship be beached.”</p><p>“My good man,” Navarre says, struggling to understand the fellow. “That is all as may be but we are pressed for time. Where can we find the Loremaster?”</p><p>“Can’t say to be sure, Lord. He be nowhere as to be seen fer some time.”</p><p>“Well?,” Navarre says. “You speak of being a regular guest. Surely you know where the Loremaster may have gone?”</p><p>“Nay, Lord. We only be here a few days. Never seen him since we beached.”</p><p>“Think, man!,” Navarre says irritably. “Where can he have gone? The town? Visiting friends? A paramour? A tavern?”</p><p>“Can’t say to be sure, Lord.”</p><p>Now, the door of the third house opens and a short, elderly man wearing what appears to be a nightgown appears.</p><p>“You there!,” Navarre yells at him.</p><p>“Yes?,” the man says.</p><p>“Where can I find Loremaster Fist?”</p><p>“I haven’t seen him.”</p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>“I am the gravedigger.”</p><p>“Your name, Sir!,” Navarre demands.</p><p>“It is Taper,” the man replies.</p><p></p><p>Sir Eber approaches.</p><p>“Do you have a key to this place?,” he asks the gravedigger.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Well?,” Navarre says impatiently. “Get on with it, man!”</p><p>“I wouldn’t go into that house,” the gravedigger says. “The Loremaster has warned us not to enter it in his absence.”</p><p>“We’ll be the judge of that,” Navarre snaps. “Just get the key.”</p><p>“And you are?,” Taper asks.</p><p>“I am Navarre Ard Dauberval,” Navarre says. “And you, Sir, are obstructing a mission of importance!”</p><p>“Follow me, Lord,” Taper says, turning around and disappearing into the house.</p><p>Navarre hurries after him. He is beginning to consider the possibility that something may be very wrong here. Why don’t the people living in the same building as the Loremaster have any notion of where their landlord could be? And what of a gravedigger, a worshiper of Ulm, living here?</p><p></p><p>He reaches the door of the gravedigger's house and enters a small room with a raised platform about halfway up the back wall, some steps leading up to it and with a fireplace underneath. On the right wall is a large wooden cassette with many compartments containing all kinds of animal skulls – the sign of Ulm!</p><p>Taking a deep breath, Navarre scans the room for evidence of a struggle, blood, corpses. He finds nothing of the sort and presently the gravedigger comes down the steps to the platform.</p><p>“Here you are, Lord,” he says, some keys in his hand and heading to the door.</p><p>Our noble hero casts another quick look around the room. When he sees nothing more of any interest, he leaves the building, to find that his noble fellows have already gathered at the door to the first house. Tim is nowhere to be seen and the door to the second house is closed. Presently the gravedigger reaches the gathered nobles and turns to look at Navarre.</p><p>“Well, Eber?,” Navarre says impatiently. Does he have to do everything himself? “Open the door!”</p><p>“I can open it for you, Lord,” the gravedigger says, moving past the ranger. He unlocks the door and takes a step back.</p><p>“Don’t enter, Lord,” he says. “The Loremaster has told us that entering the house is dangerous.”</p><p>“More work for you, I’d say,” Sir Eber says.</p><p>The gravedigger lifts his eyebrows.</p><p>“That is true,” he says. “I hadn’t looked at it that way.”</p><p>Navarre approaches.</p><p>“Stand back, Sir,” he warns the gravedigger, moving past him toward the door.</p><p>But Sir Suvali grabs him by the arm.</p><p>“Allow me,” the sorcerer says.</p><p></p><p>He opens the door and looks at his dogs for a moment. When the animals show no signs of being worried about anything, he takes a look inside, into a room that looks much like the one in the gravedigger's house. There are a table and a chair and a raised platform is against the back wall, a fireplace underneath it. To the right is a door to a smaller room, most likely a pantry or storage. A punching ball, a pair of boxing gloves, and a cassette not unlike the one in the gravedigger’s house take pride of place in various locations. The cassette contains what seem to be boxing trophies.</p><p>“There’s nobody here,” Sir Suvali says.</p><p>“<em>Parbleu!,”</em> the <em>chevalier</em> says. “Is there nobody who knows where he might be?”</p><p>“This won’t do!,” the novice exclaims angrily. “Urgent questions must be answered! How do we find out about his routine? Where he goes?”</p><p>“Speak, man!,” Navarre snaps to the gravedigger.</p><p>“I do not know where he is, Lord,” the gravedigger says. “He is a sorcerer and a businessman. He meets with sorcerers and captains and all manner of folk. He uses <em>The Black Owl </em>when he wants to go places.”</p><p>“Tim!,” Navarre yells. “Get back out here!”</p><p>The door opens and the crewman appears. Again, Navarre asks him where the Loremaster may have gone.</p><p>“Can’t say to be sure, Lord,” Tim says. He seems to think for a while. “Mayhap as there be something fer to blow the gaff in the house? But ye might think twice to be sure! Cap’n said there be no quarter for hands entering.”</p><p>“This is getting us nowhere,” Sir Suvali says. “I’ll leave a note and we’ll get back to Big Beach to look for him there.”</p><p></p><p>He enters the house, procures a pen and some paper and starts scribbling away at the table. He has only just started when he stops abruptly, lifts his head and sniffs the air.</p><p>“Smell that?,” he says. “Something’s rotting in here.”</p><p>He starts for the door in the right wall but changes his mind and climbs up to the platform. Here, he finds a table, a desk, a bed, a nightstand next to it, its lower drawer on the floor with four bottles around it. In front of it, lying face-down, with one arm stretched as if trying to reach for the drawer, is a body. It is that of a stocky, muscular man wearing a sorcerer’s robe and a lot of flashy, gold jewelry. The skin is strangely blue.</p><p>Not blue as in “ice” or blue as in “the result of decay setting in” – just blue.</p><p>“Gentlemen!,” the sorcerer yells. “He is here. Do not enter the house until I say so!”</p><p>He kneels next to the body and subjects the bottles to a closer inspection. They are all alike, with three of them containing a clear liquid and the fourth being open and empty, a stopper next to it. He carefully checks if there is any life left in the body – but there is no breathing, no pulse.</p><p></p><p>It would appear that Loremaster Fist is dead, poisoned by agents unknown.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ilgatto, post: 8858529, member: 86051"] [B][SIZE=5]An Adventure in Five Acts, Act II[/SIZE][/B][SIZE=5][B] (Continued)[/B][/SIZE] The [I]Varis[/I] is allowed through and soon reaches the next jetty. Sir Oengus drops anchor and remains on board with the novice while the rest of our noble heroes disembark. Navarre sets out to commandeer a horse and when he locates a soldier riding one, the [I]chevalier[/I] comes galloping by. “See you at the fortress, [I]mon cher!,”[/I] he cries, inciting his new horse to an even greater speed. After some unexpected resistance, the soldier agrees to lend Navarre his horse on the condition that he will return it to him. Navarre gives him his word as a matter of course and mounts up just when Sir Suvali, Sir Oerknal, and Sir Eber appear. When the noble quartet get to the fortress some time later, they notice the [I]chevalier[/I] at the gate – on horseback and obviously furious. When they reach the gates themselves, a seneschal appears. “A thousand pardons, my Lords,” the seneschal says, bowing to the assembled noble heroes. “If you would follow me?” “[I]L’impudence!,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] exclaims, before charging into the courtyard. “You have not heard the last of this, [I]Monsieur!”[/I] Navarre dismounts, hands his horse to a stable boy and starts after the seneschal and the others. Our noble heroes are taken into a large barrow and into a hall where many nobles and military men are gathered at tables arranged around a large central fire. Without further ado, Navarre takes off his gloves and addresses the assembly. “My Lords,” he starts. “Barons…” “…ladies,” Sir Oerknal whispers behind him. “… my Ladies,” Navarre continues, annoyed that the creature has caught him out. “The King is dead.” Cries of indignation and disbelief follow and Navarre waits for the consternation to die down. “I assure you this is true, my Lords,” he continues. “I have seen him die with my own eyes.” More consternation follows until Sir Corwin rises and calls for silence. “What news of my uncle?,” he asks. “His fate is unknown,” Navarre says. “As is that of all others on Apple Island.” After taking a moment to consider this, Sir Corwin invites our noble heroes to his table, where they are treated to some excellent food and drink. They are asked many questions and take their time to answer them as best they can. In turn, Sir Corwin informs them that he has rallied the soldiers of Palava and that he and a number of Bagabuxshan barons have blocked the river to ensure that no one gets past unchecked. He also tells them that he has sent heralds and messengers to all duchies with news of what happened and asking for support. “[I]Monsieur!,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] says. “I assure you that House Sarazin is wholly at your service!” As the evening proceeds, our noble heroes and the assembled Palavan courtiers and officers speak of organizing defenses, raising armies, and moving against the enemy as soon as possible. Our noble heroes also learn that some 30 of the King’s men broke out of the Military Academy and that they managed to save around 40 horses. During most of this, Sir Oerknal and Sir Eber do not speak much. They have taken seats next to each other at the back of the room and do not seem to approve of the way their noble fellows handle things. “Look at them,” Sir Eber says to the creature at some point. “Strutting their stuff and eating and drinking like fat geese. Blah, blah, blah.” “Hell, yeah,” Sir Oerknal replies, in what can perhaps best be described as a bit of an anachronism. “Why waste all this time? We should be killing people.” When the conversation once again turns to who may be behind the attack, Navarre suddenly remembers the murderous Theresa. He gets to his feet. “My Ladies, Lords,” he says. “Barons. Perhaps our prisoner can shed some light on the subject. Lord Corwin. If you would allow me to bring her before you?” And so it is that Theresa is brought into the room, presenting an even sorrier sight than usual. She is on her knees, hands tied behind her back, face still swollen and blue from Sir Oerknal’s blows, hair in disarray, paint running down her face, and smelling as if she hasn’t been allowed to relieve herself properly for quite some time. “My Ladies, my Lords,” Navarre starts. “Barons. I bring this wretched creature before you to be judged for her misdeeds. Woman! Are you ready to be tried by your betters?” “Silence!,” he roars, when Theresa starts to speak. “You shall speak when spoken to!” He turns to Sir Corwin again and continues: “My Lord. I, Navarre Ard Dauberval, acting Duke Dauberval, charge this woman with the unlawful holding of a servant of Ilm, with causing distress to a Lady, with assaulting five peers of the realm, and with the attempted murder of one of the King’s servants. My Lord?” “Grave charges, indeed,” Sir Corwin agrees. “What have you to say to this, woman?” “I am innocent!,” Theresa yells. “The girl is a thief! These people have stolen my barge!” “Do you dare call a servant of Ilm a thief, miscreant?,” Navarre says, glowering at the woman. “She’s a thief! She came aboard my barge illegally! She didn’t pay for her passage!” “That is no excuse to rob her of her dignity and leave her tied to a bed unattended,” Navarre says. “I had to protect myself! She could have been hiding a weapon! I was afraid she would escape!” “I remind you that you speak of a servant of Ilm!,” Navarre roars. “I assure you, creature, that I shall not allow you to speak of the Lady in this manner much longer!” “She’s a thief,” Theresa whimpers. “Do you deny that you drugged myself and my peers with a herbal tea?,” Sir Suvali asks. “I do! I didn’t drug anybody!” “Lies!,” Sir Suvali yells. “I have examined the tea myself and found it to contain various sleep-inducing herbs.” “Fine!,” Theresa yells back. “The tea has some soothing qualities! But nothing like you suggest!” “And what of your attempt on the King’s life?,” the sorcerer continues. “Do you deny this as well?” “He is an abomination!,” Theresa yells. “I don’t want monsters on my barge!” “Your excuses bore this court, woman,” Navarre says, getting tired of the whole thing and rising to his feet again. “Now… I put it to you that you aided and abetted traitors to the Crown! Isn’t it true, Madam, that you ferried soldiers to the island? I remind you that the penalty for this is death by hanging.” Now, Theresa panics. “No!,” she cries, clasping her hands. “I didn’t see any soldiers! We took to the water at the first sign of trouble! I saw no one! I swear on my poor mother’s grave!” Navarre instantly notices the sudden changes in the woman’s voice and manner: she is now definitely less defiant than before and aiding the enemy is something she obviously does not want to be accused of at all costs. He concludes that she and captain Clifford probably did not ferry any soldiers to the island and decides to leave the proceedings to Sir Corwin. He leans back in his chair and gestures a servant for more wine. As a result, he doesn’t register what eventually happens to the murderous captain’s wife, although she is not on the [I]Varis[/I] the next day. When the meeting draws to a close, Navarre and the [I]chevalier[/I] – who has been drinking heavily – accept Sir Corwin’s invitation to spend the night at the barrow. The others return to the [I]Varis[/I] but not after Oerknal buys four dogs from someone and gives them to Sir Suvali. When the noble trio board the [I]Varis[/I] and inform Sir Oengus of the events at the fortress, the latter turns out to have spent the evening convincing himself once again that he doesn’t want to go to Big Beach. “It's madness!,” he yells to Sir Suvali. “The whole country is under attack and we’re here holding some girl’s hand! I will turn this barge around first thing tomorrow and sail for Nisibis!” Fortunately, the sorcerer manages to convince him to stick to the plan. [B]Day 4:[/B] Navarre and the [I]chevalier[/I] take their leave of Sir Corwin and head back to the jetty at first light, where Navarre returns his horse to its owner. When the noble duo are back on board, the novice approaches. “What happened?,” she asks. “I need to know everything!” Navarre informs her of the events of last night, as always taking care to avoid any details he considers to be of an upsetting nature. Once again, the novice’s rather violent notions on what should be done with the enemy surprise him. “They must hang!,” she exclaims at some point. “All of them! How dare they murder their betters!” Otherwise, the day passes rather uneventfully and Navarre and the [I]chevalier[/I] enjoy another bottle or two of the expensive wines. In what seems to be moment of weakness, the [I]chevalier[/I] admits to having difficulty coming to terms with what he saw on the island. “[I]L’effroi!,”[/I] he exclaims at some point. [I]“Mon cher! La horreur![/I] I shall forever be haunted by it!” Navarre says nothing, too polite to expand on what is surely a fleeting moment of weakness. He hasn’t allowed himself to think about the matter much, instead focusing on the matters at hand. For the rest of the day, Navarre doesn’t stop hailing barges from time to time but his attempts to get some information about what happened in Big Beach do not lead to much more than already knows. Most people he talks to seem to think that the town’s beggars and thieves went on a rampage and that that was that. “A diversion, perhaps?,” the [I]chevalier[/I] suggests. [B]Day 5:[/B] Late in the afternoon, just when Navarre and the [I]chevalier[/I] are about to finish the last of the expensive wines, Sir Oengus announces that Big Beach approaches. Indeed, the river has widened to some 150 yards and the forests have given way to a dune-like landscape with rocky outcroppings. Sandbanks and pebble-strewn islets have appeared in the river, forcing Sir Oengus to steer the [I]Varis[/I] through ever narrower fairways. Downstream, our noble heroes can see much farther into the distance than they could so far and they presently look out over a vast, open area underneath a cloudy sky. The traffic has increased notably, with all manner of vessels gathering around scores of jetties on islets and both banks of the river. Buildings appear everywhere, a mixture of all kinds of barrows, wooden structures, and even some stone buildings, many of them obviously dedicated to a multitude of maritime trades: there are boathouses, small docks, net-makers, salters. Far ahead, on the beach, are two enormous vessels unlike our noble heroes have ever seen, as well as more wooden structures and constructs. Judging by the number of buildings they see, our noble heroes estimate that Big Beach may be home to perhaps as much as 5,000 permanent residents. [ATTACH type="full" alt="5A-3-enworld-bigbeach-map.png"]269593[/ATTACH] Sir Oengus steers the [I]Varis[/I] as far downriver as he can get it – which is halfway down the island-strewn area, to where the river actually disappears – and now our noble heroes have their first comprehensive view of the beach. It seems to run some two kilometers to the sea and stretches all the way from dawn to dusk. Starting some distance from the low dunes that mark the end of the river, a wide strip of what seems to be brackish water smothered in algae leads to the sea, in effect dividing the beach in two halves. On the sand are an assortment of ships, boats, sleds, and carts, some of them swarming with people and horses. Various wooden structures seem to be dry-docks, with pathways of wooden poles half-buried in the sand leading up to them. Others have large nets drawn over them. Far away, a span of sixteen horses are pulling one of the large vessels into the sea. “I do declare!,” Navarre yells to Sir Oengus from the prow. “I have never seen such vessels!” “They be sea-ships,” Sir Oengus yells back at him, grinning widely. Navarre cannot believe his eyes and ears. “Surely you jest, Sir!,” he yells. “Ha, ha!,” Sir Oengus laughs. “You better believe it, lubber! They take these beauties out onto the big blue to catch fish!” Navarre has never heard of such a ludicrous notion. As far as he knows, no vessel can survive a trip to the sea. “And plenty of fish there be out there, to be sure!,” Sir Oengus continues, steering the [I]Varis[/I] to a jetty. “Wash up here by the barrelful courtesy of the currents and the winds! Never have to get out for more than a couple of leagues before the nets be brimming!” Navarre casts him a suspicious glance but then the novice appears next to him and hails the first man she sees on the jetty. “Pardon!,” she yells. “Sir! Where can I find Loremaster Fist?” “Right bank, missus,” the man yells back. “Straight as she goes. Last house on the beach!” Navarre regains his composure and suggests the novice prepare herself for the journey ahead. When she doesn’t answer and starts climbing down the rope ladder to the jetty unattended, he alerts the [I]chevalier: [/I]“Scaralat! The Lady requires our assistance!” And so our noble duo have to hurry after the rapidly disappearing novice. Just before they catch up, the [I]chevalier[/I] stops Navarre in his stride. “A word among gentlemen, Sir,” he says, extending his hand to his noble fellow. “It seems only appropriate that we shall lead the effort under your command. I shall lead the cavalry myself.” Navarre pauses and shakes his noble friend’s hand. “[I]Mon colonel,”[/I] he says, with a slight bow of his head. After some more hurrying after the novice through the dunes and with their noble fellows in tow, our noble duo eventually reach what must be the home of Loremaster Fist at the end of the path they are on. It is a long, stone structure on a low dune at the foot of a tall rock jutting from the sand like a finger. It seems to consist of three separate homes in a row, each with its own entrance. Attached to the back is a large wooden hangar, a pathway of half-buried wooden poles connecting it to the beach. On the other side of the path our noble duo are on, running away from them along the front of the building, are four walled-off sections, the first three containing all kinds of plants and low shrubs and the fourth a lone, stone bench with a splendid view of the beach and the sea beyond. The novice finally comes to a halt, apparently in doubt. “My Lady,” Navarre asks. “Do you know which one is the Loremaster’s house?” “I don’t know,” the novice says. “I was sent to ask a specific question and that’s it.” Without further ado, she heads for the first door and knocks on it, the [I]chevalier[/I] hurrying to her side. Navarre takes a few steps back to look at the chimneys and he notices smoke coming from those of the second and third houses. Now, Sir Eber, Sir Oerknal, and Sir Suvali arrive, the sorcerer immediately turning his attention to the three gardens. Navarre turns to look at the third house, where some stone steps lead up to the front door. Assuming this to be the one where people might actually live – the others being perhaps ateliers or barns – he advances to the steps. “I say!,” he yells. “Hello in there?” After some more yelling, a short young man with light hair appears in the door of the second house. Navarre approaches. “Loremaster Fist, I presume?,” he says. “Not me, Lord,” the youngster says. “I be just a tenant and they call me… Tim. I sail on [I]The Black Owl.”[/I] He nods to the beach, presumably to one of the sea-ships on it. “I see,” Navarre says. “Where is the Loremaster?” “Can’t say to be sure, Lord,” Tim says. “It be just the gravedigger and us hands here.” “A [I]gravedigger?,”[/I] Navarre says, putting his hand to his sword and turning to the [I]chevalier [/I]and the novice. “Scaralat!,” he yells. “There is a gravedigger in the last house!” Strangely, the [I]chevalier[/I] seems to take this as his cue to move to the back of the building and into the hangar. Navarre has a quick look around to see where his noble fellows are. Sir Suvali is in one of the small gardens; Sir Eber and Sir Oerknal are sitting on the low stone wall surrounding another, observing the goings-on with a bored look on their face; Sir Oengus is nowhere to be seen. He moves to the novice’s side, who is listening to Tim explaining that the building is divided into three separate homes, all the property of Loremaster Fist. “Loremaster be over there,” Tim says, nodding to the first house. “The gravedigger be to starboard and this ‘ere be where we take a caulk when the ship be beached.” “My good man,” Navarre says, struggling to understand the fellow. “That is all as may be but we are pressed for time. Where can we find the Loremaster?” “Can’t say to be sure, Lord. He be nowhere as to be seen fer some time.” “Well?,” Navarre says. “You speak of being a regular guest. Surely you know where the Loremaster may have gone?” “Nay, Lord. We only be here a few days. Never seen him since we beached.” “Think, man!,” Navarre says irritably. “Where can he have gone? The town? Visiting friends? A paramour? A tavern?” “Can’t say to be sure, Lord.” Now, the door of the third house opens and a short, elderly man wearing what appears to be a nightgown appears. “You there!,” Navarre yells at him. “Yes?,” the man says. “Where can I find Loremaster Fist?” “I haven’t seen him.” “Who are you?” “I am the gravedigger.” “Your name, Sir!,” Navarre demands. “It is Taper,” the man replies. Sir Eber approaches. “Do you have a key to this place?,” he asks the gravedigger. “Yes.” “Well?,” Navarre says impatiently. “Get on with it, man!” “I wouldn’t go into that house,” the gravedigger says. “The Loremaster has warned us not to enter it in his absence.” “We’ll be the judge of that,” Navarre snaps. “Just get the key.” “And you are?,” Taper asks. “I am Navarre Ard Dauberval,” Navarre says. “And you, Sir, are obstructing a mission of importance!” “Follow me, Lord,” Taper says, turning around and disappearing into the house. Navarre hurries after him. He is beginning to consider the possibility that something may be very wrong here. Why don’t the people living in the same building as the Loremaster have any notion of where their landlord could be? And what of a gravedigger, a worshiper of Ulm, living here? He reaches the door of the gravedigger's house and enters a small room with a raised platform about halfway up the back wall, some steps leading up to it and with a fireplace underneath. On the right wall is a large wooden cassette with many compartments containing all kinds of animal skulls – the sign of Ulm! Taking a deep breath, Navarre scans the room for evidence of a struggle, blood, corpses. He finds nothing of the sort and presently the gravedigger comes down the steps to the platform. “Here you are, Lord,” he says, some keys in his hand and heading to the door. Our noble hero casts another quick look around the room. When he sees nothing more of any interest, he leaves the building, to find that his noble fellows have already gathered at the door to the first house. Tim is nowhere to be seen and the door to the second house is closed. Presently the gravedigger reaches the gathered nobles and turns to look at Navarre. “Well, Eber?,” Navarre says impatiently. Does he have to do everything himself? “Open the door!” “I can open it for you, Lord,” the gravedigger says, moving past the ranger. He unlocks the door and takes a step back. “Don’t enter, Lord,” he says. “The Loremaster has told us that entering the house is dangerous.” “More work for you, I’d say,” Sir Eber says. The gravedigger lifts his eyebrows. “That is true,” he says. “I hadn’t looked at it that way.” Navarre approaches. “Stand back, Sir,” he warns the gravedigger, moving past him toward the door. But Sir Suvali grabs him by the arm. “Allow me,” the sorcerer says. He opens the door and looks at his dogs for a moment. When the animals show no signs of being worried about anything, he takes a look inside, into a room that looks much like the one in the gravedigger's house. There are a table and a chair and a raised platform is against the back wall, a fireplace underneath it. To the right is a door to a smaller room, most likely a pantry or storage. A punching ball, a pair of boxing gloves, and a cassette not unlike the one in the gravedigger’s house take pride of place in various locations. The cassette contains what seem to be boxing trophies. “There’s nobody here,” Sir Suvali says. “[I]Parbleu!,”[/I] the [I]chevalier[/I] says. “Is there nobody who knows where he might be?” “This won’t do!,” the novice exclaims angrily. “Urgent questions must be answered! How do we find out about his routine? Where he goes?” “Speak, man!,” Navarre snaps to the gravedigger. “I do not know where he is, Lord,” the gravedigger says. “He is a sorcerer and a businessman. He meets with sorcerers and captains and all manner of folk. He uses [I]The Black Owl [/I]when he wants to go places.” “Tim!,” Navarre yells. “Get back out here!” The door opens and the crewman appears. Again, Navarre asks him where the Loremaster may have gone. “Can’t say to be sure, Lord,” Tim says. He seems to think for a while. “Mayhap as there be something fer to blow the gaff in the house? But ye might think twice to be sure! Cap’n said there be no quarter for hands entering.” “This is getting us nowhere,” Sir Suvali says. “I’ll leave a note and we’ll get back to Big Beach to look for him there.” He enters the house, procures a pen and some paper and starts scribbling away at the table. He has only just started when he stops abruptly, lifts his head and sniffs the air. “Smell that?,” he says. “Something’s rotting in here.” He starts for the door in the right wall but changes his mind and climbs up to the platform. Here, he finds a table, a desk, a bed, a nightstand next to it, its lower drawer on the floor with four bottles around it. In front of it, lying face-down, with one arm stretched as if trying to reach for the drawer, is a body. It is that of a stocky, muscular man wearing a sorcerer’s robe and a lot of flashy, gold jewelry. The skin is strangely blue. Not blue as in “ice” or blue as in “the result of decay setting in” – just blue. “Gentlemen!,” the sorcerer yells. “He is here. Do not enter the house until I say so!” He kneels next to the body and subjects the bottles to a closer inspection. They are all alike, with three of them containing a clear liquid and the fourth being open and empty, a stopper next to it. He carefully checks if there is any life left in the body – but there is no breathing, no pulse. It would appear that Loremaster Fist is dead, poisoned by agents unknown. [/QUOTE]
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An Adventure in Five Acts (AD&D 2E) (Final Update 25 Feb 2023)
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