Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)

[talien]

Purity and Corruption: Part 3 – An Undertaker

The second person on the list was Jurbe Nasaran. He was described as a human male, with red hair and hazel eyes, and a scar on his right arm.

“That’s it?” asked Kham. “That’s something to start with, but not terribly distinctive in a city with a lot of red-haired Nierite soldiers.”

“He’s also a priest of Nier,” said Beldin.

Ilmarė rolled her eyes. “And there’s not enough of THOSE in Nishanpur.”

“The description says he used to perform burial rites,” said Sebastian. “All of the formal burials in Nishanpur take place in the Pits, so that’s why we’re here.”

The Pits were a strange place compared to the cemeteries of any other city. The smell of ash and smoke hung heavy in the air, almost, but not quite, masking the underlying odor of death. The ground was whitish-gray from an accumulation of ash on the granite rocks, and indeed the cinders had almost congealed to cement in many places. The ground was pockmarked with large holes, a few of which had the burnt remains of large logs protruding from them.

A few families were gathered around biers in various areas. One group carried a sarcophagus down into the catacombs at the far end of the Pits. On the west side of the field, a group of men erected a scaffold of logs on top of one of the large holes. A few shiny beetles, several inches long, scurried along the ground.

Sebastian smiled benevolently down at the beetles. “Flesh-eating scarabs.” He carefully stepped around the insects. “We call them Neroth’s Children.”

“Charming,” said Ilmarė.

A man in the black and brown robes of a Nerothian approached. “Greetings. Do you require our services, or are you here for a funeral ritual that has already been planned? I can direct you to the proper location.”

“We’re here to find Jurbe Nasaran,” said Sebastian. “Does he work here?”

“Ah, you require a Nierite ritual, then? Yes, Jurbe does perform services here. He is currently occupied, however. I can help with the details and make sure your ritual is added to his upcoming schedule. Tell me, do you wish an Erdukeen rite, or do you prefer one in the local fashion?”

“No, we aren’t here for a funeral,” replied Sebastian. “We just need to find Jurbe, we have a message for him.”

“I see,” the priest looked mildly perturbed. “Well, as I said, Jurbe is currently occupied. I can deliver your message.”

Sebastian and Kham exchanged glances. “We prefer to deliver the message in person.”

The Nerothian shrugged. “As you wish. He is over there.” He indicated the scaffolding. “But he is busy preparing for a rite tomorrow morning. Please do not disturb him more than necessary.” The Nerothian pointed out a middle-aged man with thinning red hair, who was doing some work on top of the scaffolding.

Jurbe Nasaran was very involved in his task. He was placing bundles of incense into specific positions among the growing structure of large logs. The entire thing was apparently intended to be a huge funeral pyre.

When Sebastian finally got his attention, a brief look of frustration, quickly stifled, flashed across his face. “Yes, do you need help with something?”

“Are you Jurbe Nasaran?”

“Yes, yes, I am he. What can I do for you? Do you require services?”

“We were asked to deliver this message to you.“ Sebastian handed him the note.

Jurbe opened the note and looked it over. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

Then he crumpled the paper into a small ball and tossed it into a pile of kindling being prepared for the pyre.

“Thank you for bringing this. You may go. I have no response.”

“What?” asked Sebastian. “You won’t come with us to see Caius and Baecinia?”

Jurbe winced visibly at the sound of their names. “At this moment, I cannot leave the task at hand, and whether or not I decide ever to I see them is not your concern.”

“It is imperative you attend,” said Sebastian. “This is of vital importance for all of Nishanpur, and perhaps Canceri.”

“What they don’t seem to understand, and perhaps you don’t realize, is that the past is the past,” snapped Jurbe. “What they want to do won’t change anything. All they are doing is ruining their own futures. Do you realize that for the last eight years, I have consistently been passed over for advancement in my order? I am fortunate that I am permitted to have a job at all. I don’t wish to jeopardize my future because they have suddenly decided that now is the time for their strange notion of justice. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do!”

Kham put one hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to silence him. “I know a thing or two about Nierite cremation rituals,” Kham said to Jurbe. “Mind if I help?”

“Y-yes.” Jurbe looked surprised. “That would be helpful.”

Kham steered Jurbe away from the others, winking back at them as he did so.

Jurbe handed Kham a bundle of incense. “Placing these incense sticks is a challenge,” said Jurbe. “They must be positioned just so, lest the wind blow them out. If a stick goes out, the families consider it a judgment of Nier against their relative’s soul.”

“I’ve seen this before.” Kham nodded. “The trick is to put them low enough to the ground so that they’re not caught in the wind, but not so low that they’re in the updraft. All that heat generates a lot of wind,” he grinned, “sort of like Nierite politics.”

Jurbe laughed in spite of himself. “You are learned man…I didn’t catch your name?”

Kham lowered his lenses to reveal his white pupils and evidence of his val heritage. “It’s not important.” He hoped that the priest hadn’t looked at any wanted posters recently.

Jurbe began placing some of the sticks of incense as Kham instructed. “How did you come to know so much about Nierite rituals?”

“I’m part-Altharin; it comes naturally.” Kham coughed into one hand as some of the incense wafted back in his face. “Truth be told, I’m hoping you can teach me a thing or two.”

“It would be my pleasure,” said Jurbe. “Your instructions cut my task in half.”

“I’ve recently…lost someone. I am concerned about his body.”

Jurbe pursed his lips. “Undeath, you mean.”

Kham nodded. “I want to know how to perform the Nierite Sending ceremony correctly. It’s what my father would have wanted.”

Jurbe smiled sympathetically. “Then I will do my very best to teach it to you.”

 

[talien]

Purity and Corruption: Part 4 – A Smith

Kham returned to the others with a self-satisfied smirk. “Jurbe will go to the meeting.”

Sebastian clapped Kham’s back in surprise. “How in the world did you manage that?”

The val shrugged. “Sometimes you have to earn peoples’ trust.”

“And you know all about that,” said Ilmarė flatly.

“Who’s next on the list?” Sebastian asked Beldin before another argument broke out.

Beldin scanned the list. “The third name on the list is Angven Des. Hmm, there’s a Master Smith in Nishanpur named Harmon Des. If I remember correctly, Angven is his niece.”

“You know her?” asked Sebastian.

Beldin stroked his beard. “I know of her. Angven’s been working at her uncle’s forge, Harmon’s Harnessing.”

“Well since you’re a dwarf,” Kham said to Beldin, stating the obvious. “You handle this one.”

“Now wait a minute,” began Beldin, “just because we’re of the same race—“

“Oh come on, you’re a natural charmer,” rapped a knuckle on Beldin’s helmet. “It’s a woman, right? Say something nice about her eyes when you meet her.”

Beldin grumbled something under his breath.

The clang of metal on metal was loud and steady as they approached Harmon’s Harnessing. The temperature became significantly hotter as they approached the forge. Suddenly, a huge shape, one of the Red Fist’s Melatorn Devils, launched itself upward off the roof with a boom of wing beats.

Kham flinched. “Althares! I hate those things!”

After a moment, a scarred and dour dwarf trundled down a stairway from the roof. He glared at Beldin suspiciously.

“Yeah?” he growled. “Whadda you want?”

“We’re looking for Angven Des,” said Beldin. “Is she here?”

“Whadda I look like, her scribe? ANGVEN!” the old dwarf shouted over the forge noise, causing several apprentices to cringe. He retreated into the shop, still grumbling.

After another shout, the workers shifted and a female dwarf of indeterminate age came towards them. She wore a minimum of clothing, but otherwise was little discomfited by the heat. Soot clung to her like a second skin. She carried a blacksmith’s hammer in one hand.

“Yeah?” said Agven. “Whadda you want?”

“That’s amazing,” Kham whispered to Sebastian. “Is she a ventriloquist’s dummy? She sounds just like her uncle.”

Sebastian shushed him.

“Are you Angven Des?” asked Beldin. “We have a message for you.” He handed her the letter.

“Yeah, sure, fine.” Angven opened the message and read it quickly. “Oh, no. They can kiss my—“ CLANG! A sudden loud boom from the forge drowned out the rest of Angven’s ill-tempered response.

She crumpled up the note and threw it into the forge-fire behind her, where it was incinerated instantly.

A voice from behind bellowed, “Don’t you DARE throw trash into that fire! You know better! You’ll ruin the temper!”

“Yeah, yeah. I know, you old—“ CLANG! “Anyway. I gotta get back to work.” Angven gave Beldin a sour look and turned to leave.

“Wait!” shouted Beldin. “Why won’t you come to see Caius and Baecinia?”

Angven turned back to Beldin with a look of anger on her face. She punctuated her words with periodic hammer blows on a nearby anvil.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with me other than really—“ CLANG! “—ing up my life. I am not going to go—“ CLANG! “—ing off the Erdukeen just because some human—“ CLANG! “has a score to settle. I have to trek back up that mountain every so often, and I don’t feel like having to—“ CLANG! “—ing dodge attacks while doing so! I’d like to be able to go home without risking my—“ CLANG! “—ing hide! Now go jump off a cliff and leave me alone!”

Sebastian blinked in surprise. “I expected better from a dwarf,” he muttered.

Angven turned away, muttering.

“I myself am an apprentice to Elabac, the legendary smith of Solanos Mor,” said Beldin. “I’m sure you’d find a welcome forge there, should you require supplies.”

Angven turned back, appraising Beldin. “Oh really?”

Kham shoved Beldin on the shoulder.

“Especially a Nol Dappan with such attractive eyes,” added Beldin.

A bright white smile split Angven’s face. “Hmmm.” She appraised Beldin up and down. “Okay, I’ll go. But I have to finish my shift at the bellows of the forge. A job’s a job, you know.”

Angven turned away again, disappearing into the heat.

“I feel a little dirty,” Beldin said glumly.

Kham patted Beldin on the back. “Welcome to my world, dwarf.”

 

[talien]

Purity and Corruption: Part 5a – A Reunion

As day began to fade into twilight, the crowds of shoppers thinned. A small numbers of early partygoers began to make their way through the city streets. The festival promised to be huge, in spite of the tension in the city...or perhaps because of it.

An older woman approached, crossing the market with a bit more ease than was possible earlier in the day. She had graying auburn hair and gray eyes. She walked with poise and confidence, her posture almost rigidly straight, and moved straight to Caius.

“Ah, are these the ones you spoke of, Caius?” she said.

“You must be Baecinia.” Sebastian inclined his head. “I am Sebastian Arnyal.” He began to introduce the others when Baecinia interrupted him.

“I can see they are,” said Baecinia. “Tell me, have you been able to locate our friends?”

“Yes,” said Sebastian. “All of them are going to meet you at the Ebon Steed at the agreed-upon time.”

Baecinia smiled thinly. “I hope Caius has negotiated a fair settlement with you for your services? Yes?”

“Actually…” began Ilmarė.

“Good, in that case, you may select the items that you wish to have as payment. I do have one last request, however.”

Sebastian pulled Helac’s note out of his robes. “Before you make any requests of us, we have a message for you.”

Baecinia opened the note and read it quickly. Her eyebrows rose for a moment, but she didn’t say anything.

“Well?” asked Ilmarė. She was beginning to get irritated by all the secrecy.

“I have been offered something more than what I was expecting from our mutual friend,” said Baecinia. “It only makes this next task even more imperative. This evening, I wish to make a last will and testament before a consecrated acolyte of Sarish. I have heard that such arrangements can be made through the scribes at the Silver Cage. Please go there swiftly, and return with such a person. We will bundle up our goods and take all our friends to the Ebon Steed where we can settle this matter. Please bring the scribe there.”

“Last will and testament?” asked Beldin. “Planning on going somewhere?”

“Let’s hope not,” Baecinia said grimly. “This should satisfy the scribes that proper payment will be available to them.” She handed Sebastian an unsealed wrapped around a block of incense. “Please ask specifically for Nutesh val’Mehen when you arrive at the Silver Cage.”

Ilmarė shook her head as they left the square on yet another messenger run.

 

[talien]

Purity and Corruption: Part 5b – A Reunion

They quickly arrived at the Silver Cage.

“We’re here for Nutesh val’Mehen,” said Sebastian.

The acolyte that greeted them cleared his throat. “The Chief Scribe is VERY busy.”

“I’m sure he is,” Sebastian said sternly. “This is important. Got get him.”

Kham threw back his overcoat to display his pistols. The acolyte left quickly.

The acolyte returned with the Chief Scribe. Nutesh val’Mehen was a stocky man, in his late fifties, with steel gray hair and gray eyes. He was wearing bright many colored robes and a fez. He carried an ornate rod in one hand.

“Vhat can I do for you?” asked Nutesh.

“Baecinia has need of your services.” Sebastian handed Nutesh the incense and the note. “It is a matter of great import. You must come immediately.”

Nutesh unfolded the note and scanned it. A flicker of emotions flashed over his face, alternately concerned and determined. Nutesh hefted the incense in one hand as he weighed his decision.

“Yes, of course,” replied the Sarishan. He gathered up a traveling cloak and pulled it around him.

“What’s so special about a block of wax?” asked Kham.

“Dis is no ordinary candle. It is a promise of payment,” said Nutesh. “It is also a Taper of Truth. No lies can be told in its presence. It vill verify dat vhat Baecinia asks me to bear vitness vill be told truly.”

“And we’re bringing you along because…” added Ilmarė.

“Because all who bear vitness vill be Oathbound by Sarish. Dis is no small thing dat Baecinia asks.”

Kham took a swig of his wineskin.

“Don’t worry,” said Sebastian. “The Vorleraths only show up if you break your oath.”

“I didn’t say I was worried,” said Kham. “I just don’t like being bound to oaths.”

“On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t say anything,” added Ilmarė.

 

[talien]

Purity and Corruption: Part 6 – A Truth of Purity?

Night fell and the streets were filled with masked and costumed revelers celebrating the Burning Man festival in every way imaginable. A most unusual and unfamiliar sound echoed from every corner and alleyway. It was the sound of laughter and merriment on the city streets of Nishanpur.

Returning with the Sarishan to the Ebon Steed, they found the common room is mostly empty. Caius and the others were settled near the fireplace, discussing matters quietly among themselves. When the Nutesh entered, Baecinia nodded her head and rose, ushering everyone into a private dining room, away from even the few people in the common areas of the inn.

“Good, now we can begin.” Baecinia turned to Sebastian. “Would you do us the honor of shutting the door and making sure we are not disturbed? Listen to our telling, as well, for once this is done, and our record is safe in Sarishan vaults, we would ask you to help us spread this far and wide.”

She turned to Nutesh: “Please witness and record all that is said here. I can assure the honesty of all here, but to lend extra weight to our statements, I would like to use the candle.” Nutesh handed her the large white candle. “By means of this Taper of Truth, let there be no question that all we say is spoken in pure honesty.”

Nutesh readied his quills and parchment and nodded. “Vhen all is done, your testimonies vill be sealed in blood. So it is done, in Sarish’s name. Proceed.”

“I shall begin,” stated Baecinia, “for this tale begins with me and mine. I hereby attest that I am Baecinia val’Virdan, of Erduk. I am the widow of Marcus Octavian val’Virdan, former Autocrat of the Swords of Nier. Ten years ago, before the return of the Sword of the Heavens, we lived in Erduk.

“My husband was not liked by the head of the Sisters of Nier, who was and is Basuhe val’Virdan. He did not allow her the free reign she preferred in her endeavors. Therefore, when a young cleric named Quintus Attulus val’Virdan began rising through the ranks, she took notice.”

Ilmarė inhaled sharply. To hear about a young cleric named Quintus hit a little too close to home.

“She took a personal interest in his activities, as the records of the Sisterhood in Erduk can confirm, since a vision that he was ‘blessed by Nier’ came forth about that time. She groomed him, indirectly, for advancement, bringing him ever closer to herself in both viewpoint and proximity to power.

“At first we took little notice, but we became more concerned as time went by. It became clear that the Sisters heavily influenced Quintus Attus, but many of my husband’s lesser advisors did not see a problem with that. Our culture is one ruled by strength, and my husband was older than I...When his hair began to gray, many among the Swords began to look among themselves for the one who would challenge and defeat him for the leadership of our people; it is our way.

“In time, our situation became more dangerous. Eight years ago, Basuhe herself prophesied that the Sword of the Heavens would return when Quintus Attulus became Autocrat. They had solidified their power block, and were preparing to challenge my husband.

“Under normal circumstances, this would not have been unjust; it is the law of our people that the strong should lead. Although many thought otherwise, it was not at all a foregone conclusion that Quintus would defeat my husband in single combat. My husband was a veteran of many battles, and was far from weak. Quintus was yet young and inexperienced. The others can confirm this.”

There was a scattering of head nods throughout the room.

“When the challenge came, my husband was expecting it, and ready. He was not afraid...We have a saying about old swordsmen: they get to be old swordsmen by being good swordsmen.

“As was traditional, we joined Quintus and his patron Basuhe for dinner in the home of a neutral third party, the night before the challenge. This is done so that the two combatants can evaluate each other, and bloodshed can be avoided if one can be convinced to concede. There is no sense in spilling blood when the outcome is obvious.

“But my husband, as I said, was far from weak, and Quintus was too arrogant, or perhaps too sure of the knowledge of what was to come, to even consider backing down…

“As was traditional, they drank from the same glass, and ate of the same meat, in order that no poison could be suspected. After the meal, we retired home. By morning, my husband felt uneasy, and perhaps a bit unwell. We did not think of poison then, but thought it only nerves. He proceeded to prepare himself for the challenge, and we went forth to the center of the city, where such things are done.”

“Again in keeping with tradition, they fought without armor and with identical weapons. All of the equipment was inspected by a neutral party to assure that there could be no foul play. They squared off, and began to fight…” Baecinia seemed disturbed at the memory.

“It didn’t last long. As the fight progressed, my husband’s breathing began to be labored, and he began to tire, much too quickly, as I knew quite well from observing his daily practices! He still fought well despite this, and both opponents were wounded several times, though not mortally, to be certain. But then, he staggered, and seemed to be in great pain. Quintus closed in and ended the match swiftly, decisively, in that moment.

“After my husband’s death, his body was turned over to me to be prepared for his state funeral the following dawn. As I washed and prepared the corpse, I examined him closely. The priest who was responsible for preparing the funeral pyre inspected the body as well, and we agreed that something was not right.”

Baecinia indicated Jurbe with a nod.

The Nierite acknowledged her. “What she says is true. None of the wounds, by themselves, would have been immediately fatal to him, not even the final blow. His tongue was blackened and swollen. I am certain that he was poisoned, though by what and how I know not, as the food and drink were checked over magically beforehand, and the body did not have the emanations of poison, which I am able to sense, with Nier’s blessing. Everything else could be explained away as an old man’s body failing him when he asked too much of it.”

“Blackened and swollen?” asked Ilmarė. “I’ve seen this poison before. It’s called Blue Sleep.” She had a terrible thought. “What did you do with the body?”

“His body was cremated in a state funeral the dawn after his death. There was no way to delay it. Why?”

Ilmarė opened her mouth and then closed it again. “Nothing. Go on.”

Baecinia resumed her story. “I knew if we could convince enough people of the truth, that my husband had been poisoned before the match, that Quintus’ accession could be nullified. A general tournament would need to be called, and that pretender could be kept from the Autocrat’s chair.

“Instead, what I found was scorn. Too many, it seemed, wanted to believe that my husband was just too old, and weak, to stand up to a challenge. Too many wanted to believe that Quintus could usher in the return of Leonydas, the Sword of the Heavens, as Basuhe had so conveniently foretold. Nevertheless, I pressed my case as best I was able.

“I found myself ostracized by the community in Erduk. Those who stood by me found their positions of prestige gone, their very safety threatened. Caius and I left Erduk. Others stayed. It mattered little; we could not continue our search for justice under those circumstances. We would have found ourselves dead in the night at the hand of Basuhe’s agents, or at least, so we believed.

“When Leonydas DID actually return, we were all stunned. We decided that any chance we might have had for justice was long gone. We went about what was left of our lives as best we could.

“But now Leonydas has disappeared, and the army of the Swords has been defeated in open battle. What better indication that Quintus does not deserve to lead our people? We have another chance now, a chance to bring the truth to light, and I wish to take it.”

The other witnesses then went on to testify. Traevus was an active member of the Sisters of Nier in those days. He recalled seeing Basuhe val’Virdan, the leader of his order, speaking privately with many of the families considered “neutral” in the days of the confrontation, including the family that hosted the final supper for the combatants. Furthermore, it was Basuhe herself who presided over that fateful, final supper, and who cast the divination that showed t the combatants consumed no poisoned food or drink that night.

Caius testified that he was the weapon master in Marcus’ household, and trained with him daily. The exertion of the brief fight should not have tired him so much. He was in better condition than the final fight showed him to be.

“So you two aren’t really married?” asked Kham.

Caius blushed as he exchanged a look with Baecinia.

“During our flight from Erduk and the dark times that followed, we became…close, and some years later we were married.”

“Oh,” said Kham.

“Not to dishonor Marcus’ memory!” Caius added quickly. “Rather in a bond to preserve it and ensure that the truth would be revealed some day.”

Kham was unconvinced. “Sure, whatever.”

Angven testified that she heard the last words of Quintus that day, as he left the field of conflict.

“Quintus was quite pleased,” said the dwarf. She looked very different without a layer of soot covering her. Her hair was up and rubies glittered from her ears. “He muttered: All as was foretold to me.”

“You realize all this is just circumstantial evidence. Even with this,” Ilmarė gestured at the candle, “…magic candle of yours, there is no conclusive proof.”

Baecinia glared at her, but she remained silent.

“Good. It is done,” said Nutesh.

Baecinia and the others each placed a drop of blood on the completed transcription of the testimony. The Sarishan went through the Oathmaking and the parchment shimmered with purple light for a moment.

“Now,” Baecinia stated, “we can escort the scribe back to his home, and we can begin planning on how to release this information to the whole city!”

Sebastian nodded in approval. “If Nishanpur is to be won back from the Nierites, it must be through a war of ideas.”

Kham looked sideways at the dark-kin. “Let’s hope none of your ideas kills us.”

 

[talien]

Purity and Corruption: Part 7a – A Truth of Corruption?

Escorting Nutesh val’Mehen back to the Silver Cage was an uneventful but stonily silent trip. Whatever Nutesh thought about the issue, he decided to keep to himself.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” said Ilmarė. “Once her story becomes public, what course of action does she intend to pursue to try and see the matter fully investigated?”

“More importantly,” said Sebastian, “how does she stay alive long enough to find out? The Auotcrat won’t tolerate this.”

As they returned to the Ebon Steed, flames exploded out of one of the windows.

Kham drew two pistols. “Looks like someone got to Baecinia first!”

Beldin barreled forward with his axe into the doorway. Sebastian followed behind.

“Nierites!” shouted Beldin. “Don’t they ever give up?”

Baecinia and her companions were buried under a pile of tables. A Nierite sorcerer, fingertips still trailing smoke, stood on top of a table in the middle of the tavern. The dead and dying lay scattered like so much kindling all around him. Behind the sorcerer, with their backs to the door, were five Swords of Nier.

“Heretics!” The sorcerer whirled. “You!” he pointed at Kham. “I’ll bring your smoking corpse to the Autocrat myself! Radius Incensio!”

A stream of flames spiraled from the sorcerer’s outstretched finger. He was aiming, not at Kham’s chest, but at his pistols. The explosion would blow both of his hands off…

Someone slammed him aside. Kham rolled to his feet, only to see Ilmarė take the brunt of the attack. The flames blew her backwards into the wall. She fell down, unconscious.

Kham turned to help the elorii but hesitated.

“Go!” shouted Sebastian. “I’ll cover you!” The dark-kin sorcerer pointed at the Nierites. “Incendiaries globus!”

The ensuing explosion forced the Nierites to dive to the sides.

Kham holstered his pistols and pulled a healing potion from his overcoat. He poured it down Ilmarė’s throat. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Shh.” Kham put another potion in her hand. “Apology accepted.” The val’s expression turned deadly serious as he drew his pistols again.

Beldin slammed into one of the Nierites, but the Sword of Nier blocked it with his greatsword. It was the first time Beldin had faced a serious challenge from a human foe.

“Fool,” shouted one of the Swords of Nier. “Suffer Nier’s fiery wrath!” Flames blasted from the greatsword, nearly singing Sebastian.

“A Nierite priest!” shouted Sebastian. “They dress just like the Swords!”

“On him!” shouted Kham. He fired from each pistol. One Sword of Nier’s head bucked backwards, blood spouting out of his helmet.

Another Sword of Nier slashed downwards, nearly cutting Kham in twain. He fell backwards.

Kham rapped one knuckle on the breastplate he wore beneath his overcoat. “Good thing I have ole Daemonscar here.” Kham holstered the pistols and hopped to his feet in one smooth motion.

The Sword of Nier grinned beneath his helmet. “Come, heretic. I want you to die with your weapons in your hands.”

Kham drew Talon and Coomb’s dagger. “My turn.”

Beldin barely managed to knock aside a greatsword blow with his shield. It left his arm numb. He hacked downwards at the man’s leg, dropping the Nierite in mid-swing.

Another Nierite struck again, this time wrenching the shield out of his grip.

“Take out the dwarf!” shouted the sorcerer. “The rest will fall without him!”

Something cold and unyielding slid itself through Beldin’s ribs. He gritted his teeth. “It’ll take more than that…” he gasped, yanking himself forward, “to stop…a dwarf!” Beldin hacked the defenseless Nierite nearly in two, greatsword still jutting from his back.

There was a strange beat that made them all pause. It was someone stomping one foot. The voice that accompanied the beat demanded attention.

Ilmarė was singing. Gone was the beautiful voice that had encouraged them to fight for her, kill for her, die for her. It was replaced by something guttural and angry and ugly.

It was a war chant.

“Im no mûl an hîr alcuinar!” screamed Ilmarė. She was no slave to any god.

Kham was hard pressed to stop the Nierite. He had to use both Talon and his dagger to catch any blow the greatsword might land, putting him on the defensive.

“Sebastian, do something!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I can’t keep this up forever!”

“I’m trying,” Sebastian yelled back. He ducked a greatsword swing as the Nierite priest closed the gap between them. “But I’m a little busy!”

“I will finish this,” snarled the sorcerer. He raised his hands to cast another spell. “Incendiares—“

Two arrows sprouted out of the sorcerer’s open palms. He opened his mouth to scream, but another arrow shaft pierced the back of his mouth.

“Im no mûl an ardhon almeleth!” screamed Ilmarė. She was no slave to an uncaring world.

The Nierite amulet pulsed at her throat.

A Nierite lifted his greatsword over Beldin’s head. The dwarf just looked up; he couldn’t possibly get out of the way, not with a greatsword piercing his chest.

“Maeth,” screamed Ilmarė. Fight!

The Nierite’s aim was ruined when an arrow shivered out of his arm. Beldin took the opportunity to cut the man’s legs out from beneath him.

The Nierite priest knocked Sebastian to the ground with a wide swing. The priest lifted his greatsword over his head.

“Maeth!”

An arrow speared both of the priest’s wrists, pinning them together. He dropped the greatsword, staring at his wrists in disbelief.

Sebastian raised one palm and flames blasted into the Nierite at point-blank range. His melting corpse fell to its knees.

Kham found an opening in the last Nierite’s defenses and plunged both blades into the man’s chest. He withdrew them, waiting for the inevitable death rattle.

The Nierite kept coming. He wound up for another swing with his greatsword…

”MAETH!”

An arrow protruded from the Nierite’s eye socket. He fell backwards without a sound.

Finally, the killing stopped. Only the crackling of the flames and the moans of the wounded could be heard.

”Althares!” Kham exclaimed as he took in the carnage. “She never stopped…”

Arrows jutted from every Nierite. They looked like pincushions, their bodies almost impossible to recognize. Arrows sprouted from every limb, in men that were most certainly dead already.

Finally, the amulet at Ilmarė’s throat stopped pulsing. The elf dropped her bow to the ground and held her face in her hands.

Sebastian turned towards her but Beldin, wincing in pain, stopped him. “Let’s help the ones with wounds we can heal,” he said. Then he yanked the greatsword out of his abdomen.

 

[talien]

Purity and Corruption: Part 7b – A Truth of Corruption?

“Your timing is certainly impeccable,” Baecinia said after the conflict was over. “I know I haven’t seen the last of them...but it is no matter. Tell me: did Nutesh val’Mehen make it back to the Silver Cage?”

“He did,” said Sebastian grimly.

“Good. Thanks to you, and our mutual friends, we have shelter and a safe way to escape the city. The message will come out, and in a way that no one will miss it.”

“Yeah, a real win for everybody,” said Kham. “I’m not going to miss this place.”

“Nor I,” said Sebastian. “I only hope what we’ve done here is enough.”

“You have my sincerest thanks. I’m sure we will meet again, and I hope that I will be able to aid you even half as much as you have aided me.”

With that final parting comment, she and her conspirators made their way down the street, disappearing into the throngs of evening travelers in Nishanpur.

“Can we go now?” asked Kham.

“Helac will find us safe passage out,” said Sebastian. “There’s just one last person we need to pick up.”

 

[talien]

Purity and Corruption: Part 8 – And Justice for All

In an occurrence nearly unheard of elsewhere, Vlad was hauled off to the gaol in the Menagerie of the Red Fist. His gear was stripped from him, and in a matter of hours he found himself in a Court of the City, in the Temple Quarter. Nearly a week went by, with only a sullen guard who slipped him moldy bread and dirty water to speak to.

Finally, a Nierite clerk appeared.

“Do you wish a legal advisor?” asked the bored-looking Nierite clerk.

“How much?”

“A mere 100 Baht an hour,” said the clerk.

Vlad blinked. “I’m not sure if I have that much…”

Another clerk handed the first clerk a note. He read it, looked up at Vlad, and back at the note. “Not to worry. A defense counsel has been assigned to you.” He left.

Not one but four Sarishan barristers appeared soon after.

“Do I really need all of you?” asked Vlad in disbelief.

“You need all the help you can get,” said clerk number one. “We have crafted a statement for you. You will be required to swear on Sarish to the truth; failure means the Vorlerath.”

Vlad swallowed hard.

“Don’t worry,” said the second clerk. “You must only tell the literal truth. And the literal truth can mean many things. For example, you did hit a Nierite soldier, that’s true. But if the Nierite was threatening you, that’s something else.”

The third clerk handed him the note. “Now memorize it.”

Vlad looked over at the fourth clerk. “And what are you here for?”

“Me?” the clerk smiled. “I am dedicated to ‘speaking’ to the judge on your behalf.”

Once he had memorized his defense, they left him. Shortly afterward, Vlad was brought in chains before a judge.

A Red Fist soldier, along with several civilian witnesses, stood opposite him. Then the judge walked in, and the rest of the court was seated.

Guards kept Vlad standing throughout the proceedings. He was asked to swear his oath by Sarish…

His Oath was witnessed, as were those of the opposing Swords of Nier. The Red Fist and witnesses then left the court. No questions were permitted.

The Erdukeen judge then carefully considered…and reached a verdict.

 

[talien]

Purity and Corruption: Conclusion

For the remainder of that night and the two nights following the confrontation, the Festival of the Burning Man descended on the city. The night of the festival, amid the parties, fireworks, and debauchery, a strange thing occurred.

Vlad laughed as he read the tale of Baecinia’s testimony, written on the back of a “Free Vlad!” poster. “So they really made that much of a fuss over me?”

“Indeed, you became a symbol of Nierite oppression,” said Sebastian with a smirk as they descended through the grimy sewers beneath Nishanpur. “Being a Milandisian made you quite a flash point of controversy.”

Kham clapped Vlad on the back. “And it got the heat off of me for once.”

“Yeah,” Vlad muttered. “Thanks for getting me in trouble in the first place.”

“Don’t thank me,” Kham grinned. “Thank Sebastian! He paid for all those high priced barristers.”

Sebastian chuckled. “You can repay me when you’re back on you’re feet.”

“I didn’t lose anything!” Vlad was beaming. “They even gave me all my equipment back. I still can’t believe it!”

Beldin shook his head in disbelief. “Baecinia’s testimony was so perfectly copied word-for-word that the Sarishan scribes had to be involved. I wonder how much she HAD really paid them for the service.”

“It was worth it,” said Sebastian. “Anything that reveals the corruption of the occup…” he swayed a bit, “…occupation…”

Sebastian fell forward. Vlad caught him.

When Sebastian’s hood fell back, they could see that his face was covered in splotches.

Beldin bit his lip. “Sebastian’s been covering up his illness. He didn’t want you to know how bad it was.”

Ilmarė sloshed through the muck to stare down at Sebastian in Vlad’s arms.

“We can take him to Faerdlau,” she said without a hint of passion. “There are Milandisian Sisters there that can heal him. It’s the closest friendly town. But we must hurry.”

She walked off into the darkness.

Vlad hoisted Sebastian over one shoulder as he got to his feet. “Since when does Ilmarė recommend human priests?”

“She’s just got a new appreciation for her friends.” Beldin looked sadly at Sebastian. “Old and new.”

 

[talien]

Chapter 42: I Know Thee, Brother - Introduction

This is a Year One Living Arcanis adventure, “I Know Thee, Brother” by Eric Wiener, set in the Arcanis setting. You can read more about Arcanis at Onara Online. Please note: This adventure contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

• Dungeon Master: Michael Tresca (http://michael.tresca.net)
• Kham Val’Abebi (val rogue/psychic warrior) played by Jeremy Ortiz (http://www.ninjarobotstudios.com)
• Ilmarė Galen (elf bard/fighter) played by Amber Tresca
• Vlad Martell (human fighter) played by Matt Hammer

Sebastian’s had the plague for a while now. It wasn’t intentional; I had no idea if George was going to show up to the game in which the Sorcerer-King’s agent was trying to get revenge. But it just so happened that not only did the Commandant blow himself up, he spread the disease too.

When I discovered that this adventure involved curing a disease, it was a perfect fit for when George couldn’t make a game. It also involved some interesting role-playing opportunities.

I had to dance a bit here: the explanation for why a human has psychic powers is pretty weak (the little rat idol made him do it, basically) and the ratmen (changed to wererats here) didn’t have much motivation. So I played fast and loose and rewrote a lot.

Except for Skiz. I’m a fan of the book Jhereg by Steven Brust; I’m sure you’ll see the similarities.

Seriously, what red-blooded DM can pass up a talking rat cohort?