Aphonion Tales (New posts 6/13, 6/15, 6/19)
Ladybird
First Post
Meanwhile, Part 2
The temple of Glordiadel was hardly ever well-populated after dark – the god of the sun didn’t tend to get many followers who came by at night, even in this neighborhood. But Kit could still see a small light burning inside, and she decided to risk a knock at the door. One hand rested on her battered rapier; the other slipped into her pocket, giving her lucky rock a quick toss. Come on. Let me have chosen right this time…
“Just a minute!” a cracked but pleasant voice called out from inside. A moment later, the door opened, to reveal a bent, aged priest, with a broad smile on his wrinkled face. “The sun may be gone, but the light always remains! I’m Father Gavin. What can I do for you, child?”
Kit drew back skeptically. “Good evening. Father,” she added, remembering the title almost too late. “Um…this might sound a little odd, but…”
“Are you troubled, child?” the priest asked, giving her a searching, sympathetic look.
“No! I mean, it’s not me, it’s – look, there are some kids who have been taken by slavers. And I heard that you might have been doing something to help them.”
Father Gavin blinked. “Why, yes. Just this evening, we helped free a group of children from the foul slavers who came in from across the canal. Are there more of them?”
Kit nodded quickly. “Yes!” she cried. “At least two half-orcs, holding maybe four or five children. I know exactly where they are – I can take you to them.”
“Then let’s be off!” The priest shuffled off to the side of the door, then returned with a heavy mace brandished in one wrinkled hand, the sleeve of his robe slipping back to reveal chain mail underneath. “Where are they?”
“Whoa! Wait! Aren’t there – I mean – just us?” Kit frantically struggled to find words that weren’t ‘But you’re too old’ or ‘Are you sure you can lift that thing?’
Father Gavin patted Kit on the head with his free hand – if he noticed that she squirmed away from the touch, he showed no signs of it. “Well, there aren’t any other priests in the temple right now. Don’t worry, dear. There’s a Watch post along the way – we can stop there. And I can protect you.” He waved the mace unsteadily, demonstrating. It took all of Kit’s energy to not wince in pain as she watched.
The guard post, when they reached it, was similarly deserted. Even the authority of the ancient priest could only persuade them to give up one guardsman, and he had clearly drawn the short straw of the late shift by virtue of being the youngest guardsman in the district – he was barely older than Kit. Admittedly, what he lacked in experience he did make up for in enthusiasm – he was practically jumping up and down at the chance to go on such an exciting midnight mission.
An old man, a green guardsman, and her. Well, it would have to do.
It was fairly easy for Kit to trace her way back to the building where the children were. She led Father Gavin and the guardsman around to the front door. Fortunately, it was unlocked – Kit could probably have picked it easily, but it wouldn’t have been very wise to do so in front of a member of the Watch, even such a young one. They crept as quietly as they could across the dusty, creaky boards of the abandoned building – which for Kit, of course, was rather more quietly than for the other two.
“Hey! What that?” The thunderous voice of a half-orc rose up from below, freezing them all in place.
The guardsman was the first to move. With his sword raised high, he charged forwards, shouting, “Stop! In the name of the law!”
“So much for taking ‘em by surprise,” Kit muttered.
The temple of Glordiadel was hardly ever well-populated after dark – the god of the sun didn’t tend to get many followers who came by at night, even in this neighborhood. But Kit could still see a small light burning inside, and she decided to risk a knock at the door. One hand rested on her battered rapier; the other slipped into her pocket, giving her lucky rock a quick toss. Come on. Let me have chosen right this time…
“Just a minute!” a cracked but pleasant voice called out from inside. A moment later, the door opened, to reveal a bent, aged priest, with a broad smile on his wrinkled face. “The sun may be gone, but the light always remains! I’m Father Gavin. What can I do for you, child?”
Kit drew back skeptically. “Good evening. Father,” she added, remembering the title almost too late. “Um…this might sound a little odd, but…”
“Are you troubled, child?” the priest asked, giving her a searching, sympathetic look.
“No! I mean, it’s not me, it’s – look, there are some kids who have been taken by slavers. And I heard that you might have been doing something to help them.”
Father Gavin blinked. “Why, yes. Just this evening, we helped free a group of children from the foul slavers who came in from across the canal. Are there more of them?”
Kit nodded quickly. “Yes!” she cried. “At least two half-orcs, holding maybe four or five children. I know exactly where they are – I can take you to them.”
“Then let’s be off!” The priest shuffled off to the side of the door, then returned with a heavy mace brandished in one wrinkled hand, the sleeve of his robe slipping back to reveal chain mail underneath. “Where are they?”
“Whoa! Wait! Aren’t there – I mean – just us?” Kit frantically struggled to find words that weren’t ‘But you’re too old’ or ‘Are you sure you can lift that thing?’
Father Gavin patted Kit on the head with his free hand – if he noticed that she squirmed away from the touch, he showed no signs of it. “Well, there aren’t any other priests in the temple right now. Don’t worry, dear. There’s a Watch post along the way – we can stop there. And I can protect you.” He waved the mace unsteadily, demonstrating. It took all of Kit’s energy to not wince in pain as she watched.
The guard post, when they reached it, was similarly deserted. Even the authority of the ancient priest could only persuade them to give up one guardsman, and he had clearly drawn the short straw of the late shift by virtue of being the youngest guardsman in the district – he was barely older than Kit. Admittedly, what he lacked in experience he did make up for in enthusiasm – he was practically jumping up and down at the chance to go on such an exciting midnight mission.
An old man, a green guardsman, and her. Well, it would have to do.
It was fairly easy for Kit to trace her way back to the building where the children were. She led Father Gavin and the guardsman around to the front door. Fortunately, it was unlocked – Kit could probably have picked it easily, but it wouldn’t have been very wise to do so in front of a member of the Watch, even such a young one. They crept as quietly as they could across the dusty, creaky boards of the abandoned building – which for Kit, of course, was rather more quietly than for the other two.
“Hey! What that?” The thunderous voice of a half-orc rose up from below, freezing them all in place.
The guardsman was the first to move. With his sword raised high, he charged forwards, shouting, “Stop! In the name of the law!”
“So much for taking ‘em by surprise,” Kit muttered.
Ladybird
First Post
Meanwhile, Part 3
Kit slipped nimbly around the charging guardsman, battered rapier already in hand as she leaped down the rickety stairs to confront the half-orcs. Father Gavin trundled along behind her, with a tremulous shout of “Halt, foul miscreants!”
The basement was dark, lit only by a sputtering torch, but Kit’s sharp eyes could still spot the four children huddled on the dirt floor, chained to the wall. But between her and them was a half-orc, roaring and waving a club. She sidestepped the charging half-orc, stabbing out ineffectually. Her blade suddenly seemed very flimsy, next to the enormous mass of orc and club that was storming through the basement.
Following Kit’s example, the guardsman took a huge flying leap down the stairs…only to crash headlong into the slanted ceiling above, and crumpled to the floor at the foot of the stairs. Still quavering on about miscreants, Father Gavin started his own descent of the staircase. Before the priest could even reach the bottom, the second half-orc took a swipe at him with a massive club, connecting with the old man’s armor with a sickening crunch.
Kit gasped in shock and outrage. “You – “ Still having enough wits about her to remember that the priest and four children were within earshot, she cut herself off before she could say what she really wanted to call the half-orc, and settled on “ – miscreant! Beating up on an old man like that! Stop it!” she shouted, her eyes flashing with fury. If either Father Gavin or the guardsman had been in any condition to notice, they might have seen her eyes actually glow for a brief moment in the dim light.
And the half-orc stopped, club still raised, his eyes going vacant.
It was just for a moment, but that was all the time that Father Gavin needed to recover from the blow and swing his mace in a wicked downwards arc onto the half-orc’s shoulder. The half-orc roared in pain and staggered back, just as the guardsman pulled himself upright enough to swing his sword at him, catching the half-orc in the side and sending him to his knees, bleeding thickly onto the dirt floor.
Kit dodged around the struggling half-orc to intercept the other one as he charged across the basement, waving his own club so high that it nearly hit the low ceiling. “Stop!” she cried again, but to no avail this time – the half-orc kept barreling straight towards her. She frantically skipped back, thrusting out with her rapier. The half-orc let out a yell, so she must have made contact, but Kit was moving so quickly that she couldn’t tell. In and out she weaved, desperately trying to avoid the enormous club, aware at the edges of her consciousness that behind her the children were still crying. The guardsman sprang up on the other side of the half-orc, causing him to spin towards the guard in roaring confusion, and Kit seized the opportunity, slipping her thin blade straight between the half-orc’s ribs. Almost at the same time, the guardsman’s sword hacked down from above. The half-orc gave one final gurgling cry of pain, then slipped to the ground and lay silent beside his groaning companion.
Kit stood for one stunned moment, then rushed towards the sobbing children. “It’s all right – it’s all right – don’t worry – I’ll get you out – “ She kept up a steady stream of soothing chatter as her fingers worked over the locks of the children’s bonds. These are awfully tough, she thought, struggling to align her lockpicks in the tiny metal holes – until she realized that her hands were trembling from the excitement and fear of battle. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and started again. “It’s all right,” she said again, giving the boy whose manacles she was working on a steady, reassuring look. He blinked, nodded, and instantly grew calmer. Behind her, Kit could hear the priest murmuring some prayers – whether to heal himself, give thanks for victory, or make a proper end for the dead half-orc, she couldn’t tell.
A few moments more was all it took for her to pop open the locks on the boy’s wrists, and after the first one, the other three locks were much easier for her to figure out. Between them, Kit and the priest got the children calmed down enough to get upstairs, carefully shielding their eyes from the still-bleeding corpse; the guardsman stayed behind to take the battered surviving half-orc into custody.
Kit took a deep gasping breath of fresh air as they emerged into the night. She slipped a hand into her pocket and let her lucky rock spin between her fingers. The children were safe, and the slavers were caught – sure, it had been a bit more dangerous than usual, but still, it had been, on the whole, a lucky night.
Kit slipped nimbly around the charging guardsman, battered rapier already in hand as she leaped down the rickety stairs to confront the half-orcs. Father Gavin trundled along behind her, with a tremulous shout of “Halt, foul miscreants!”
The basement was dark, lit only by a sputtering torch, but Kit’s sharp eyes could still spot the four children huddled on the dirt floor, chained to the wall. But between her and them was a half-orc, roaring and waving a club. She sidestepped the charging half-orc, stabbing out ineffectually. Her blade suddenly seemed very flimsy, next to the enormous mass of orc and club that was storming through the basement.
Following Kit’s example, the guardsman took a huge flying leap down the stairs…only to crash headlong into the slanted ceiling above, and crumpled to the floor at the foot of the stairs. Still quavering on about miscreants, Father Gavin started his own descent of the staircase. Before the priest could even reach the bottom, the second half-orc took a swipe at him with a massive club, connecting with the old man’s armor with a sickening crunch.
Kit gasped in shock and outrage. “You – “ Still having enough wits about her to remember that the priest and four children were within earshot, she cut herself off before she could say what she really wanted to call the half-orc, and settled on “ – miscreant! Beating up on an old man like that! Stop it!” she shouted, her eyes flashing with fury. If either Father Gavin or the guardsman had been in any condition to notice, they might have seen her eyes actually glow for a brief moment in the dim light.
And the half-orc stopped, club still raised, his eyes going vacant.
It was just for a moment, but that was all the time that Father Gavin needed to recover from the blow and swing his mace in a wicked downwards arc onto the half-orc’s shoulder. The half-orc roared in pain and staggered back, just as the guardsman pulled himself upright enough to swing his sword at him, catching the half-orc in the side and sending him to his knees, bleeding thickly onto the dirt floor.
Kit dodged around the struggling half-orc to intercept the other one as he charged across the basement, waving his own club so high that it nearly hit the low ceiling. “Stop!” she cried again, but to no avail this time – the half-orc kept barreling straight towards her. She frantically skipped back, thrusting out with her rapier. The half-orc let out a yell, so she must have made contact, but Kit was moving so quickly that she couldn’t tell. In and out she weaved, desperately trying to avoid the enormous club, aware at the edges of her consciousness that behind her the children were still crying. The guardsman sprang up on the other side of the half-orc, causing him to spin towards the guard in roaring confusion, and Kit seized the opportunity, slipping her thin blade straight between the half-orc’s ribs. Almost at the same time, the guardsman’s sword hacked down from above. The half-orc gave one final gurgling cry of pain, then slipped to the ground and lay silent beside his groaning companion.
Kit stood for one stunned moment, then rushed towards the sobbing children. “It’s all right – it’s all right – don’t worry – I’ll get you out – “ She kept up a steady stream of soothing chatter as her fingers worked over the locks of the children’s bonds. These are awfully tough, she thought, struggling to align her lockpicks in the tiny metal holes – until she realized that her hands were trembling from the excitement and fear of battle. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and started again. “It’s all right,” she said again, giving the boy whose manacles she was working on a steady, reassuring look. He blinked, nodded, and instantly grew calmer. Behind her, Kit could hear the priest murmuring some prayers – whether to heal himself, give thanks for victory, or make a proper end for the dead half-orc, she couldn’t tell.
A few moments more was all it took for her to pop open the locks on the boy’s wrists, and after the first one, the other three locks were much easier for her to figure out. Between them, Kit and the priest got the children calmed down enough to get upstairs, carefully shielding their eyes from the still-bleeding corpse; the guardsman stayed behind to take the battered surviving half-orc into custody.
Kit took a deep gasping breath of fresh air as they emerged into the night. She slipped a hand into her pocket and let her lucky rock spin between her fingers. The children were safe, and the slavers were caught – sure, it had been a bit more dangerous than usual, but still, it had been, on the whole, a lucky night.
Ladybird
First Post
Meanwhile, Part 4
The children were safely returned to their parents, the bells had long since chimed midnight, and Kit and the priest were standing outside the small temple of Glordiadel.
“That was very fine work you did tonight, child,” said Father Gavin.
Kit gave him a weary but honest smile. “Thanks.” She hesitated for a moment, then the smile widened a bit. “You too.”
“You know, there are others. Other people who want to work against the slavers as much as you do,” the priest explained. “I think they’d appreciate your help, if you’re interested in working with them.”
“Here? In Plurg?” Kit couldn’t believe that there had been something like that happening on her turf without her knowing about it.
Father Gavin shook his head. “Not exactly, although they do work here on occasion. I can take you to them, if you like.”
Kit’s head was still spinning from the fear and excitement of the night’s events. “Sure,” she answered. “I mean, if there’s anything else I can do to help get rid of those slavers and keep my kids safe, I want to do it.”
The priest beamed. “That’s the right attitude! Come – I’ll show you where they are. You can rest and get cleaned up when you get there.”
He led her through the winding streets and alleys of Plurg to the other side of the enclave, where the City of Enclaves ferry boats hitched up to a slightly more respectable set of docks when they weren’t shuttling up and down the canals that wove between the different island enclaves that made up the city. Even at this late hour, the ferries were running – there was always someone awake and doing business in the City of Enclaves.
The ferry floated gently through the canals, winding south towards the more affluent parts of the city, until it docked at Glitterdomes. “Um. Father? Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t steer you wrong, child,” the priest reassured her, giving her shoulder a paternal pat. “Come, follow me. I know exactly where it is.”
With a sudden, acute awareness of her blood-spattered leathers and grimy hands, Kit trailed behind Father Gavin through the well-groomed streets of Glitterdomes.
It was an enclave mostly inhabited by gnomes and halflings, and the small scale of the elegant houses lining the streets only made their ornamented facades seem more delicate and elaborate. Quite a few houses were to human scale, though, and it was at one of these that Father Gavin stopped. Kit made a vain attempt to smooth down her rumpled hair as the priest knocked on the door.
A tiny, aged man – whether halfling or gnome, it was difficult to tell under the wrinkles and layers of ruffled, out-of-fashion livery – answered. “Ohhhhh, honored guest!” he oozed, an obsequious smile pushing onto his face. “Please, tell me how I may be of service. I am Glimrod, and it is my humble honor to assist all those who come to the illustrious door of this family.”
Kit gulped, and reached into her pocket for her lucky rock. Butlers? And a place where even the doors were illustrious?
“Yes, yes.” Father Gavin waved Glimrod on with a benevolent hand. “Will you please tell the young master that I’ve got another helper for him?”
“Ohhhhh, certainly!” Glimrod gushed. “It would be my pleasure to take the…er…” He gave Kit a dubious glance, which she returned with a defiant lift of her chin. “…young lady to join the others. Once she has…er…rested, and changed her attire.”
“Thanks,” Kit interrupted, her voice coming out a little too loud in her attempt to sound confident and casual. “I’d like that.” She clutched tightly at her lucky rock, and pushed on. “So…uh…where can I get some of that attire?”
“See?” came the voice of Father Gavin behind her. “I told you that it would be all right.” He gave her shoulder another pat. She flinched away from the unexpected touch, but said nothing. “Go on inside, child. I need to get back to the temple – I’ve been away far too long as it is.”
Glimrod held the door open for Kit, and she followed him in, small and dusty in the huge clean expanse of a fancier house than she’d ever seen in her entire life.
The children were safely returned to their parents, the bells had long since chimed midnight, and Kit and the priest were standing outside the small temple of Glordiadel.
“That was very fine work you did tonight, child,” said Father Gavin.
Kit gave him a weary but honest smile. “Thanks.” She hesitated for a moment, then the smile widened a bit. “You too.”
“You know, there are others. Other people who want to work against the slavers as much as you do,” the priest explained. “I think they’d appreciate your help, if you’re interested in working with them.”
“Here? In Plurg?” Kit couldn’t believe that there had been something like that happening on her turf without her knowing about it.
Father Gavin shook his head. “Not exactly, although they do work here on occasion. I can take you to them, if you like.”
Kit’s head was still spinning from the fear and excitement of the night’s events. “Sure,” she answered. “I mean, if there’s anything else I can do to help get rid of those slavers and keep my kids safe, I want to do it.”
The priest beamed. “That’s the right attitude! Come – I’ll show you where they are. You can rest and get cleaned up when you get there.”
He led her through the winding streets and alleys of Plurg to the other side of the enclave, where the City of Enclaves ferry boats hitched up to a slightly more respectable set of docks when they weren’t shuttling up and down the canals that wove between the different island enclaves that made up the city. Even at this late hour, the ferries were running – there was always someone awake and doing business in the City of Enclaves.
The ferry floated gently through the canals, winding south towards the more affluent parts of the city, until it docked at Glitterdomes. “Um. Father? Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t steer you wrong, child,” the priest reassured her, giving her shoulder a paternal pat. “Come, follow me. I know exactly where it is.”
With a sudden, acute awareness of her blood-spattered leathers and grimy hands, Kit trailed behind Father Gavin through the well-groomed streets of Glitterdomes.
It was an enclave mostly inhabited by gnomes and halflings, and the small scale of the elegant houses lining the streets only made their ornamented facades seem more delicate and elaborate. Quite a few houses were to human scale, though, and it was at one of these that Father Gavin stopped. Kit made a vain attempt to smooth down her rumpled hair as the priest knocked on the door.
A tiny, aged man – whether halfling or gnome, it was difficult to tell under the wrinkles and layers of ruffled, out-of-fashion livery – answered. “Ohhhhh, honored guest!” he oozed, an obsequious smile pushing onto his face. “Please, tell me how I may be of service. I am Glimrod, and it is my humble honor to assist all those who come to the illustrious door of this family.”
Kit gulped, and reached into her pocket for her lucky rock. Butlers? And a place where even the doors were illustrious?
“Yes, yes.” Father Gavin waved Glimrod on with a benevolent hand. “Will you please tell the young master that I’ve got another helper for him?”
“Ohhhhh, certainly!” Glimrod gushed. “It would be my pleasure to take the…er…” He gave Kit a dubious glance, which she returned with a defiant lift of her chin. “…young lady to join the others. Once she has…er…rested, and changed her attire.”
“Thanks,” Kit interrupted, her voice coming out a little too loud in her attempt to sound confident and casual. “I’d like that.” She clutched tightly at her lucky rock, and pushed on. “So…uh…where can I get some of that attire?”
“See?” came the voice of Father Gavin behind her. “I told you that it would be all right.” He gave her shoulder another pat. She flinched away from the unexpected touch, but said nothing. “Go on inside, child. I need to get back to the temple – I’ve been away far too long as it is.”
Glimrod held the door open for Kit, and she followed him in, small and dusty in the huge clean expanse of a fancier house than she’d ever seen in her entire life.
Ladybird
First Post
Meanwhile, Part 5
“So…uh…where is everyone?” Kit’s voice echoed off the walls of the empty hallway – no, it was too grand to be a hallway, she thought. They probably called it a foyer, or an entry hall, or something like that.
“Oh, it is not for me to inquire about the doings of the mighty.” The aged Glimrod was somehow managing to both hobble and glide up the broad staircase, while at the same time turning around to answer Kit. “They are off about their business, and they do not deign to inform the humble Glimrod.”
Kit followed, running her hand along the banister as she climbed the stairs. Was that real gold leaf around the edge? “Oh. Right,” she said absently.
“If the young mistress pleases,” Glimrod oozed, when they reached the top of the stairs, “you may wait here while I go in search of some more suitable attire.” The butler gestured towards a room off the long, carpeted hallway. “Your bath will be ready for you in a few minutes, madame. You may find it through the left-hand door at the rear of the sitting room.”
“Um. Right,” Kit said again. She went through the door into a room that would probably big enough to fit her family’s entire flat into it, keeping her hands carefully folded behind her back. Can’t touch anything, she thought. Half the stuff in here looks like it would break if I breathed on it… And while she didn’t even dare think it, she knew deep down that if she kept her hands off things, it would be easier to resist the urge to slip a gilded knick-knack or two into her pocket.
With a start, she realized that Glimrod was still hovering by the door. “Thank you,” she tried. No, he was still there. “Thank you very much.” Still there, with that can-I-help-you smile on his face. How on earth did you get rid of servants? “Goodbye?”
“Goodbye, mistress,” Glimrod replied, much to Kit’s relief. “I will leave you to your business.”
Kit let out a sigh as he closed the door behind him on the way out, and then another one as she sat down on the sofa. Divan. Chaise. Whatever fancy name they would call it in a house like this. She unbuckled her rapier and let her sword belt fall onto the cushions, then started sliding the daggers out of her sleeves and boots.
As the last dagger left her hand, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Instantly, she was on her feet, spinning around with a rapier in one hand and dagger in the other, blazing with fury. “Who’s there? Who is it?” she shouted. She darted this way and that, thrusting out with her sword with a look of wild, angry fear in her eyes.
From out of the nothingness of an empty corner of the room came a voice. “It’s me. I’m sorry.” A moment later, the faint outline of a figure appeared: first a head, then a torso, and then a misty swirl of smoke below that, all a faint translucent blue.
“Who are you?” Kit was still on edge, her voice coming out sharp and angry.
“I’m Stithis.” The bluish figure drifted backwards into the corner, away from the point of Kit’s rapier. “I’m not going to hurt you!” he added hastily, holding up his hands, both to show that he was unarmed and to keep her away. “I just wanted to see who was visiting. I heard the butler say that someone else had come to help out, and I wanted to see who it was.”
“Well, you can see who’s there by coming to the door and knocking!” Kit snapped back. “Don’t you ever do that again!” Only now, as she was coming down off the crest of her anger, did Kit realize just how high she had to look to meet the djinn’s eyes – he was enormous. Slowly, Kit lowered her sword, but she still kept it pointed at the figure in the corner. “You’re one of Father Gavin’s people?” she asked warily. “Helping work against the slavers?”
The djinn nodded, eager to accept the change of subject. “We fought off these awful hags last night. The others should be back soon – they’ll tell you all about it. Lord Alistair just had to…” Stithis stopped himself, remember Alistair’s concern about keeping his identity secret. “He had to deal with some family issues. I went on ahead. They should all be back soon,” he said again, but his hopeful smile was met with a hard, hostile stare from Kit. “In fact, why don’t I go see if they’re back now,” he offered, drifting towards the door as quickly as his insubstantial form could take him.
Very slowly, Kit lowered her sword back to the couch, closed the door behind her (disappointingly, there was no lock), and then headed in to the bathroom (whose door, fortunately, did have a lock).
The bathroom was astonishingly bright, with light from steady, smokeless torches radiating off of dozens of clean, shiny tiled surfaces. The tub was already full of water, with steam rising gently from the surface, and a huge pile of fluffy white towels sat next to it. Despite her lingering anger and nerves from the encounter with Stithis, Kit couldn’t help grinning at the sight. Real warm water! And enough of it to swim in, practically!
She could swim in it, she discovered a moment later when she got in. Or at least, she could submerge herself entirely, with room to spare, and even enough depth for her to blow a few bubbles, when she remembered to hold her breath properly instead of giggling with the pleasure of this amazing luxury. After a few minutes, though – during which the water had not cooled one bit, nor shown any signs of becoming dirty – she started to get down to the business of cleaning off the stains of battle and the grime of living in the docks neighborhood. She grabbed one of the sponges from the side of the bathtub and went to work.
And then she started to feel another sponge, not held by her own hand, moving up and down her back.
She leaped out of the tub, grabbing desperately at a towel. “STITHIS!” she shouted furiously. “I swear, when I find you…”
From the bathtub, a meek, bubbling voice answered, “Who’s Stithis?” A small face appeared, formed out of the water itself, next to a small watery hand that was holding a sponge.
“Who are you? What are you?” Kit’s voice cracked with the strain and shock of yet another strange being appearing out of nowhere.
“I’m the bath,” the bath answered. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. The lady of the house likes it when I help out…”
Kit stared, shaking her head in bewilderment. “You’re the what?”
“I’m the bath,” it explained again. “Called here from the Elemental Plane of Water. The faucet is a small portal, you know.”
“An elemental. In the bath,” Kit repeated, sinking down onto the edge of the tub with weary resignation. “All right. Why not? There are djinn in the corner and I-don’t-know-what at the door being butlers. Why not an elemental in the bath?”
The bathtub made an obliging little ripple. “It sounds like you’ve had a rough day,” it said soothingly. “Come back in. You’ll feel better after you have a nice bath.”
Too overwhelmed to do anything else, Kit nodded. “Yeah, probably.” She flashed one more wary look at the bathtub’s watery face, warning, “Just don’t look, all right?”
“All right,” the elemental agreed, and its eyes closed, dissolving into the gentle ripples of the bath.
Thankfully, the rest of the washing-up process was much less eventful, and Kit emerged several minutes later, entirely clean. After a moment’s careful surveillance of the sitting room door, she decided that there was probably nothing waiting for her on the other side, and ventured out. Glimrod must have come and gone while she was in the bath, because several sets of clothes were laid out on the sofa. She had no idea where he could have found them, but she wasn’t arguing – they were more finely made, and out of better fabric, than she had ever worn in her life. She couldn’t resist admiring herself in the mirror, once she was dressed and her hair tamed into some sort of order. She did clean up well, she thought with a satisfied grin.
And with that, she slipped her lucky rock into the pocket of her new outfit, and went out into the hall to see if the others had returned.
“So…uh…where is everyone?” Kit’s voice echoed off the walls of the empty hallway – no, it was too grand to be a hallway, she thought. They probably called it a foyer, or an entry hall, or something like that.
“Oh, it is not for me to inquire about the doings of the mighty.” The aged Glimrod was somehow managing to both hobble and glide up the broad staircase, while at the same time turning around to answer Kit. “They are off about their business, and they do not deign to inform the humble Glimrod.”
Kit followed, running her hand along the banister as she climbed the stairs. Was that real gold leaf around the edge? “Oh. Right,” she said absently.
“If the young mistress pleases,” Glimrod oozed, when they reached the top of the stairs, “you may wait here while I go in search of some more suitable attire.” The butler gestured towards a room off the long, carpeted hallway. “Your bath will be ready for you in a few minutes, madame. You may find it through the left-hand door at the rear of the sitting room.”
“Um. Right,” Kit said again. She went through the door into a room that would probably big enough to fit her family’s entire flat into it, keeping her hands carefully folded behind her back. Can’t touch anything, she thought. Half the stuff in here looks like it would break if I breathed on it… And while she didn’t even dare think it, she knew deep down that if she kept her hands off things, it would be easier to resist the urge to slip a gilded knick-knack or two into her pocket.
With a start, she realized that Glimrod was still hovering by the door. “Thank you,” she tried. No, he was still there. “Thank you very much.” Still there, with that can-I-help-you smile on his face. How on earth did you get rid of servants? “Goodbye?”
“Goodbye, mistress,” Glimrod replied, much to Kit’s relief. “I will leave you to your business.”
Kit let out a sigh as he closed the door behind him on the way out, and then another one as she sat down on the sofa. Divan. Chaise. Whatever fancy name they would call it in a house like this. She unbuckled her rapier and let her sword belt fall onto the cushions, then started sliding the daggers out of her sleeves and boots.
As the last dagger left her hand, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Instantly, she was on her feet, spinning around with a rapier in one hand and dagger in the other, blazing with fury. “Who’s there? Who is it?” she shouted. She darted this way and that, thrusting out with her sword with a look of wild, angry fear in her eyes.
From out of the nothingness of an empty corner of the room came a voice. “It’s me. I’m sorry.” A moment later, the faint outline of a figure appeared: first a head, then a torso, and then a misty swirl of smoke below that, all a faint translucent blue.
“Who are you?” Kit was still on edge, her voice coming out sharp and angry.
“I’m Stithis.” The bluish figure drifted backwards into the corner, away from the point of Kit’s rapier. “I’m not going to hurt you!” he added hastily, holding up his hands, both to show that he was unarmed and to keep her away. “I just wanted to see who was visiting. I heard the butler say that someone else had come to help out, and I wanted to see who it was.”
“Well, you can see who’s there by coming to the door and knocking!” Kit snapped back. “Don’t you ever do that again!” Only now, as she was coming down off the crest of her anger, did Kit realize just how high she had to look to meet the djinn’s eyes – he was enormous. Slowly, Kit lowered her sword, but she still kept it pointed at the figure in the corner. “You’re one of Father Gavin’s people?” she asked warily. “Helping work against the slavers?”
The djinn nodded, eager to accept the change of subject. “We fought off these awful hags last night. The others should be back soon – they’ll tell you all about it. Lord Alistair just had to…” Stithis stopped himself, remember Alistair’s concern about keeping his identity secret. “He had to deal with some family issues. I went on ahead. They should all be back soon,” he said again, but his hopeful smile was met with a hard, hostile stare from Kit. “In fact, why don’t I go see if they’re back now,” he offered, drifting towards the door as quickly as his insubstantial form could take him.
Very slowly, Kit lowered her sword back to the couch, closed the door behind her (disappointingly, there was no lock), and then headed in to the bathroom (whose door, fortunately, did have a lock).
The bathroom was astonishingly bright, with light from steady, smokeless torches radiating off of dozens of clean, shiny tiled surfaces. The tub was already full of water, with steam rising gently from the surface, and a huge pile of fluffy white towels sat next to it. Despite her lingering anger and nerves from the encounter with Stithis, Kit couldn’t help grinning at the sight. Real warm water! And enough of it to swim in, practically!
She could swim in it, she discovered a moment later when she got in. Or at least, she could submerge herself entirely, with room to spare, and even enough depth for her to blow a few bubbles, when she remembered to hold her breath properly instead of giggling with the pleasure of this amazing luxury. After a few minutes, though – during which the water had not cooled one bit, nor shown any signs of becoming dirty – she started to get down to the business of cleaning off the stains of battle and the grime of living in the docks neighborhood. She grabbed one of the sponges from the side of the bathtub and went to work.
And then she started to feel another sponge, not held by her own hand, moving up and down her back.
She leaped out of the tub, grabbing desperately at a towel. “STITHIS!” she shouted furiously. “I swear, when I find you…”
From the bathtub, a meek, bubbling voice answered, “Who’s Stithis?” A small face appeared, formed out of the water itself, next to a small watery hand that was holding a sponge.
“Who are you? What are you?” Kit’s voice cracked with the strain and shock of yet another strange being appearing out of nowhere.
“I’m the bath,” the bath answered. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. The lady of the house likes it when I help out…”
Kit stared, shaking her head in bewilderment. “You’re the what?”
“I’m the bath,” it explained again. “Called here from the Elemental Plane of Water. The faucet is a small portal, you know.”
“An elemental. In the bath,” Kit repeated, sinking down onto the edge of the tub with weary resignation. “All right. Why not? There are djinn in the corner and I-don’t-know-what at the door being butlers. Why not an elemental in the bath?”
The bathtub made an obliging little ripple. “It sounds like you’ve had a rough day,” it said soothingly. “Come back in. You’ll feel better after you have a nice bath.”
Too overwhelmed to do anything else, Kit nodded. “Yeah, probably.” She flashed one more wary look at the bathtub’s watery face, warning, “Just don’t look, all right?”
“All right,” the elemental agreed, and its eyes closed, dissolving into the gentle ripples of the bath.
Thankfully, the rest of the washing-up process was much less eventful, and Kit emerged several minutes later, entirely clean. After a moment’s careful surveillance of the sitting room door, she decided that there was probably nothing waiting for her on the other side, and ventured out. Glimrod must have come and gone while she was in the bath, because several sets of clothes were laid out on the sofa. She had no idea where he could have found them, but she wasn’t arguing – they were more finely made, and out of better fabric, than she had ever worn in her life. She couldn’t resist admiring herself in the mirror, once she was dressed and her hair tamed into some sort of order. She did clean up well, she thought with a satisfied grin.
And with that, she slipped her lucky rock into the pocket of her new outfit, and went out into the hall to see if the others had returned.
Cerebral Paladin
First Post
Alistair, Mahler, and Delbon returned to Delbon's family home in Glitterdomes. The wealthy Enclave at the southern edge of the city provided a perfect place to regroup and plan their trip back to Canberry, so after settling in at Delbon's home, the three of them had set off to arrange for mounts for the long journey. None of them, least of all Alistair, had any great desire to make it back to Canberry quickly, but the long overland journey would give them the opportunity to see the world and enjoy time away from the court while still preserving peace by returning eventually. After negotiating fair prices for two horses, as Stithis had no need for a mount and Delbon already had a rather more exotic steed, they returned, looking forward to an opportunity to relax in a home with all of the luxuries typical in Glitterdomes.
Glibrod, the gnomish servant who had inexplicably attached himself to the group, greeted them eagerly at the door. "Welcome back, good masters who treat Glibrod well. Come in, come in."
The three enter a sitting room. Delbon looks confusedly at Kit, who leaps up to introduce herself. "Stithis, what is she doing in my house?"
Alistair interjected with a smile, "Not that we're objecting to the arrival of such a lovely young lady."
"She said that the nice Glordiadelian priest had sent her to help us fight the slavers. So I thought that you would want her to join us."
Kit smiled awkwardly, wondering if she was supposed to curtsy, or hold out her hand, or something. She settled on just introducing herself. "I'm Kit. I hear that you've also been rescuing the kidnapped children and thought we should work together."
"An excellent idea. I'm sure that you will add a great deal to our efforts. I'm Jer Pardon, and this is Delbon Glittercheeks, who is our host, Mahler Fife, and you've met Stithis."
As the introductions were concluding, the clapper on the door sounded loudly. Before anyone else could react, Glibrod swung the door open, and bowed deeply, "Welcome, welcome, can I do anything for your ladyship?"
A proud knight, wearing a brilliantly white surcoat emblazoned with Glordiadel's Sun over her full armor, strode in. "Thank you. Please take me to see his lordship immediately."
Glibrod fawned at her boots. "Oh yes, wondrous mistress, right this way." He quickly led her into the sitting room.
The knight looked over the room and focused on the two human men. "May I ask which of you is Lord Alistair? My order has sent me to serve as his lordship's bodyguard on the return to Canberry."
Mahler and Alistair looked at each other in confusion and dismay. The secrecy of their location seemed rather less impressive than would have been hoped. After a moment, Alistair shrugged and pointed dejectedly at Mahler. "He is."
Mahler largely took it in stride. "Ah, hmm, yes, I am Lord Alistair." As Kit boggled at the new information, he continued. "I have been travelling incognito under the name 'Mahler' to reduce the danger to myself, my companions, and the innocents around us."
"Of course, my lord," the knight said as she knelt before Mahler. "I am Dame Brionna of the Order of Valor, at your service. The Church has ordered me to keep your lordship safe on your journey back to Canberry."
"I see. Thank you, although that will not really be necessary."
Dame Brionna arose. "I am afraid that I must insist, my lord. The Church considers this a vital mission."
"Very well, then."
Alistair leaned in to speak to Mahler. "M'lord, may I have a few words with you?"
"Of course. Let's step into the other room to discuss matters."
Kit, Dame Brionna, Delbon, and Glibrod all pushed to follow them, but Alistair quickly spun the door closed behind them and threw the bolt before they could follow. While Dame Brionna thought about how long she should respect Lord Alistair's privacy before breaking the door down to ensure his safety, Mahler and Lord Alistair quickly discussed matters in urgent whispers.
"We have to leave quickly. Far too many people know that we're here; it could be dangerous to stay here," Mahler began.
"It's worse than that. Somehow I doubt that a church knight is going to be fond of our plan to travel slowly back, and I don't really look forward to either of us being knocked over the head and thrown into an airship."
Mahler nodded. "Look, why don't you slip out quietly? She still thinks that I'm you, so she shouldn't be too worked up about it. But if you stick around, someone will slip and she'll figure it out. You can grab one of the horses and take off south, and Delbon, Stithis, and I will meet up with you in a few days. If Dame Brionna will be a problem, we'll give her the slip before we head out."
"Right. I'll find a place to stay two or three days south of the City, and I'll watch the main road and join you when you pass. Try not to travel late into the evening so I don't miss you." Alistair paused. "And if the cute girl wants to come along, too, that wouldn't be a bad thing at all. She seems like much better company than the knight."
"I'll see what I can do. If you don't contact us, we'll stop three full days south of the City and wait for you."
"Thanks, Mahler. I'll see you on the road." Alistair clapped Mahler on the shoulder, and quietly slipped out a window into the yard. Less than an hour later, he passed through the great gates of the City and rode south.
Glibrod, the gnomish servant who had inexplicably attached himself to the group, greeted them eagerly at the door. "Welcome back, good masters who treat Glibrod well. Come in, come in."
The three enter a sitting room. Delbon looks confusedly at Kit, who leaps up to introduce herself. "Stithis, what is she doing in my house?"
Alistair interjected with a smile, "Not that we're objecting to the arrival of such a lovely young lady."
"She said that the nice Glordiadelian priest had sent her to help us fight the slavers. So I thought that you would want her to join us."
Kit smiled awkwardly, wondering if she was supposed to curtsy, or hold out her hand, or something. She settled on just introducing herself. "I'm Kit. I hear that you've also been rescuing the kidnapped children and thought we should work together."
"An excellent idea. I'm sure that you will add a great deal to our efforts. I'm Jer Pardon, and this is Delbon Glittercheeks, who is our host, Mahler Fife, and you've met Stithis."
As the introductions were concluding, the clapper on the door sounded loudly. Before anyone else could react, Glibrod swung the door open, and bowed deeply, "Welcome, welcome, can I do anything for your ladyship?"
A proud knight, wearing a brilliantly white surcoat emblazoned with Glordiadel's Sun over her full armor, strode in. "Thank you. Please take me to see his lordship immediately."
Glibrod fawned at her boots. "Oh yes, wondrous mistress, right this way." He quickly led her into the sitting room.
The knight looked over the room and focused on the two human men. "May I ask which of you is Lord Alistair? My order has sent me to serve as his lordship's bodyguard on the return to Canberry."
Mahler and Alistair looked at each other in confusion and dismay. The secrecy of their location seemed rather less impressive than would have been hoped. After a moment, Alistair shrugged and pointed dejectedly at Mahler. "He is."
Mahler largely took it in stride. "Ah, hmm, yes, I am Lord Alistair." As Kit boggled at the new information, he continued. "I have been travelling incognito under the name 'Mahler' to reduce the danger to myself, my companions, and the innocents around us."
"Of course, my lord," the knight said as she knelt before Mahler. "I am Dame Brionna of the Order of Valor, at your service. The Church has ordered me to keep your lordship safe on your journey back to Canberry."
"I see. Thank you, although that will not really be necessary."
Dame Brionna arose. "I am afraid that I must insist, my lord. The Church considers this a vital mission."
"Very well, then."
Alistair leaned in to speak to Mahler. "M'lord, may I have a few words with you?"
"Of course. Let's step into the other room to discuss matters."
Kit, Dame Brionna, Delbon, and Glibrod all pushed to follow them, but Alistair quickly spun the door closed behind them and threw the bolt before they could follow. While Dame Brionna thought about how long she should respect Lord Alistair's privacy before breaking the door down to ensure his safety, Mahler and Lord Alistair quickly discussed matters in urgent whispers.
"We have to leave quickly. Far too many people know that we're here; it could be dangerous to stay here," Mahler began.
"It's worse than that. Somehow I doubt that a church knight is going to be fond of our plan to travel slowly back, and I don't really look forward to either of us being knocked over the head and thrown into an airship."
Mahler nodded. "Look, why don't you slip out quietly? She still thinks that I'm you, so she shouldn't be too worked up about it. But if you stick around, someone will slip and she'll figure it out. You can grab one of the horses and take off south, and Delbon, Stithis, and I will meet up with you in a few days. If Dame Brionna will be a problem, we'll give her the slip before we head out."
"Right. I'll find a place to stay two or three days south of the City, and I'll watch the main road and join you when you pass. Try not to travel late into the evening so I don't miss you." Alistair paused. "And if the cute girl wants to come along, too, that wouldn't be a bad thing at all. She seems like much better company than the knight."
"I'll see what I can do. If you don't contact us, we'll stop three full days south of the City and wait for you."
"Thanks, Mahler. I'll see you on the road." Alistair clapped Mahler on the shoulder, and quietly slipped out a window into the yard. Less than an hour later, he passed through the great gates of the City and rode south.
thatdarncat
Overlord of Chat
Errr splitting the party? This doesn't bode well.
Cerebral Paladin
First Post
Yeah, well... it seemed like a good idea at the time. Alistair was just really, really worried that Dame Brionna would decide that duty required her to incapacitate him, throw him in irons, and haul him back to Canberry as quickly as possible. Which would crimp his style.
On with the story:
Glibrod took charge of arranging rooms for Kit and Dame Brionna, while Delbon attempted to minimize the disruption to his parents' home. After the many battles with slavers and hags, the group settled in for a well-deserved night sleep in comfortable beds.
In her room on the second floor, Kit awoke to the sound of light footsteps behind her. Behind her on the window sill, that is. She raised a hand to her throat with but a moment to spare as a dark-clad intruder tried to garrot her. He succeeded in encircling her throat, but Kit's quick response prevented him from strangling her. The two of them struggled for some time-- the attacker's grip over her mouth prevented her from calling out, while Kit's struggles barely managed to keep her alive.
A loud boom resounded from the front door as the second wave of attackers entered Delbon's familial home. Mahler reacted first and rushed to meet the intruders on the stairs to the second story. Three attackers rushed up the stairs and began slashing Mahler brutally.
Dame Brionna, wearing a demure but startlingly white nightgown and brandishing her sword rushed to defend her charge while Mahler struggled against his foes' superior numbers.
Stithis rushed in to aid Kit, forcing the would-be strangler to shift his attention away from wrestling with Kit. Kit responded by yelling at the intruder to "Stop!" Remarkably, her fervor stopped him momentarily. The two of them easily defeated their stunned foe.
Meanwhile, the other attackers struck at Mahler again, causing him to collapse on the stairs. Dame Brionna leapt forward, slashing at one of the attackers and standing protectively over Mahler.
The leader, a taller man in somewhat finer black clothes, gestured up the stairs. "We only need the noble to collect. Just finish off the rest of them and we can leave the corpses behind."
"You can't hurt the nice knight lady!" Glibrod flung himself down the stairs at the assassins, flailing wildly with a cudgel.
Delbon's Grease spell did a better job, causing one of the assassins to tumble down the stairs. Dame Brionna brought down the other assassin on the stairs and gingerly advanced across the greased stairs towards the leader. Stithis flew out the window from the upstairs and flew around to flank him, just as Dame Brionna called on the power of Glordiadel to smite him.
While still hampered by their lack of armor, the group overwhelmed the remaining assassins. Dame Brionna hurried back up the stairs to heal Mahler.
Kit turned her attention towards searching their foes. In addition to some quickly pocketed change, she found a charcoal drawing of Mahler. "They were assassins, your lordliness. From the Knockers, I'd wager," she added, naming a significant thieves guild dominated by ruffians and thugs. "Someone hired them and gave them your picture."
"But... why would they have Mahler's picture?" Stithis asked. "Why wouldn't they have had a picture of Lord Alistair?"
"Stithis... you weren't supposed to..." Delbon turned towards Dame Brionna. "What he meant was..."
"I think we all know what he meant," Dame Brionna replied testily.
"Oh, yes, we all know what he meant," Glibrod added helpfully. "Umm.... what did he mean?"
"Lord Alistair was actually disguised as that Jer Pardon, who I note has conveniently already left."
"Wait a minute," Kit said. "So Jer was actually the high mucky-muck, and you're not?"
Mahler sighed. "That's right. We couldn't trust you, Dame Brionna. You could have been an assassin only pretending to be from the Order of Valor. But the real assassins must have been scrying on us and were also fooled."
"But now you know that I am, indeed, loyal to Lord Alistair. And these Knockers show how essential it is that we be able to guard him and keep him safe."
"I know how to find Lord Alistair. But he doesn't believe that he can safely return to Canberry through one of the faster routes. I'll only take you to him if you swear that you will escort him on the route back to Canberry of his choosing."
Dame Brionna placed her hand on the tiny Sun of Glordiadel that she had never removed. "I swear on my honor and on the honor of the Order of Valor that, so long as Lord Alistair follows some path back to the Archduchy, I will follow the route he has chosen and will simply keep him safe on his journey."
"Very well. Stithis can travel faster than us, so we should send him ahead to warn Alistair of the danger. The rest of us will join you as soon as we can, Stithis."
On with the story:
Glibrod took charge of arranging rooms for Kit and Dame Brionna, while Delbon attempted to minimize the disruption to his parents' home. After the many battles with slavers and hags, the group settled in for a well-deserved night sleep in comfortable beds.
In her room on the second floor, Kit awoke to the sound of light footsteps behind her. Behind her on the window sill, that is. She raised a hand to her throat with but a moment to spare as a dark-clad intruder tried to garrot her. He succeeded in encircling her throat, but Kit's quick response prevented him from strangling her. The two of them struggled for some time-- the attacker's grip over her mouth prevented her from calling out, while Kit's struggles barely managed to keep her alive.
A loud boom resounded from the front door as the second wave of attackers entered Delbon's familial home. Mahler reacted first and rushed to meet the intruders on the stairs to the second story. Three attackers rushed up the stairs and began slashing Mahler brutally.
Dame Brionna, wearing a demure but startlingly white nightgown and brandishing her sword rushed to defend her charge while Mahler struggled against his foes' superior numbers.
Stithis rushed in to aid Kit, forcing the would-be strangler to shift his attention away from wrestling with Kit. Kit responded by yelling at the intruder to "Stop!" Remarkably, her fervor stopped him momentarily. The two of them easily defeated their stunned foe.
Meanwhile, the other attackers struck at Mahler again, causing him to collapse on the stairs. Dame Brionna leapt forward, slashing at one of the attackers and standing protectively over Mahler.
The leader, a taller man in somewhat finer black clothes, gestured up the stairs. "We only need the noble to collect. Just finish off the rest of them and we can leave the corpses behind."
"You can't hurt the nice knight lady!" Glibrod flung himself down the stairs at the assassins, flailing wildly with a cudgel.
Delbon's Grease spell did a better job, causing one of the assassins to tumble down the stairs. Dame Brionna brought down the other assassin on the stairs and gingerly advanced across the greased stairs towards the leader. Stithis flew out the window from the upstairs and flew around to flank him, just as Dame Brionna called on the power of Glordiadel to smite him.
While still hampered by their lack of armor, the group overwhelmed the remaining assassins. Dame Brionna hurried back up the stairs to heal Mahler.
Kit turned her attention towards searching their foes. In addition to some quickly pocketed change, she found a charcoal drawing of Mahler. "They were assassins, your lordliness. From the Knockers, I'd wager," she added, naming a significant thieves guild dominated by ruffians and thugs. "Someone hired them and gave them your picture."
"But... why would they have Mahler's picture?" Stithis asked. "Why wouldn't they have had a picture of Lord Alistair?"
"Stithis... you weren't supposed to..." Delbon turned towards Dame Brionna. "What he meant was..."
"I think we all know what he meant," Dame Brionna replied testily.
"Oh, yes, we all know what he meant," Glibrod added helpfully. "Umm.... what did he mean?"
"Lord Alistair was actually disguised as that Jer Pardon, who I note has conveniently already left."
"Wait a minute," Kit said. "So Jer was actually the high mucky-muck, and you're not?"
Mahler sighed. "That's right. We couldn't trust you, Dame Brionna. You could have been an assassin only pretending to be from the Order of Valor. But the real assassins must have been scrying on us and were also fooled."
"But now you know that I am, indeed, loyal to Lord Alistair. And these Knockers show how essential it is that we be able to guard him and keep him safe."
"I know how to find Lord Alistair. But he doesn't believe that he can safely return to Canberry through one of the faster routes. I'll only take you to him if you swear that you will escort him on the route back to Canberry of his choosing."
Dame Brionna placed her hand on the tiny Sun of Glordiadel that she had never removed. "I swear on my honor and on the honor of the Order of Valor that, so long as Lord Alistair follows some path back to the Archduchy, I will follow the route he has chosen and will simply keep him safe on his journey."
"Very well. Stithis can travel faster than us, so we should send him ahead to warn Alistair of the danger. The rest of us will join you as soon as we can, Stithis."
thatdarncat
Overlord of Chat
Well that was quick. But if Alistair is safe or if that trick works a second time I will be rather disapointed. I mean, I'd be scrying to see how well my assasins did. With a bowl of popcorn and everything 
Cerebral Paladin
First Post
Ironically, Alistair deciding to run off on his own (really, fleeing a fellow PC) mostly had the effect of endangering the other PCs. I'm not sure how clearly it comes across in the Storyhour, but Kit and Mahler both came really close to death (Mahler in deep negatives, Kit running a significant chance of being knocked unconscious and strangled while alone).
I don't think Alistair ever found out about Kit's danger, but he still feels really guilty about Mahler-- he was trying to shirk responsibility, not shift threats against himself onto his friends. On the upside, this gave the party much better reasons to stick together and allowed us to integrate Dame Brionna (who is a great counterweight in the party).
Next update tonight! (Have to finish last year's session's storyhour before the weekend!)
I don't think Alistair ever found out about Kit's danger, but he still feels really guilty about Mahler-- he was trying to shirk responsibility, not shift threats against himself onto his friends. On the upside, this gave the party much better reasons to stick together and allowed us to integrate Dame Brionna (who is a great counterweight in the party).
Next update tonight! (Have to finish last year's session's storyhour before the weekend!)
