Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.
Rocket your D&D 5E and Level Up: Advanced 5E games into space! Alpha Star Magazine Is Launching... Right Now!

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Malacat" data-source="post: 1385042" data-attributes="member: 14528">From Monthey, Summer 1221[Out of order with the other pages]The Inn at MontheyDear Zoltan,I have but little time to write this before we leave to travel up the hills into the valley that is to be the site of our new covenant.  Before I write of recent events I must make sure to give you a most serious warning of the road west from our home.Caravans stop for a midday meal at an inn just outside Serbia.  It's a large inn in a wretchedly small hamlet that has no name I ever heard, but the inn itself is distinguished by a sign depicting a flaming rooster.  At this inn, trust no one, but be most wary of the food.They commended to me a mutton stew that they pretended was the cook’s specialty.  The bread they served with it was ordinary — I would have done well to eat nothing else, even if it did have a strong hint of dried clay to its flavor.  But the stew!  Zoltan, it was a spicy dish, and I do not claim that they do not understand peppers, but I have strong doubts that the contents of that stew ever had anything to do with a sheep.  It may have had some mild poison in it as well.My belly woke me from a deep sleep that night, and I found myself making the greatest of haste to avoid soiling myself as the stew left me, which it did no less precipitously than I had left the caravan some few days earlier.  Neja, whose habit is still to stir at the least noise and wake when it is least convenient for him to do so, followed me without more comment than a hand clamped firmly over his nose.  When I questioned him, his reply was such a marvel of impertinence that I remember it well enough to quote him:"My lord, in this light I cannot tell if you are white or green, but I can tell you are greatly occupied.  That is when you are most likely to need me."He was right, of course.  If someone had attacked me then, I'd have been at quite a disadvantage.  The next day, he asked me if magi had stronger stomachs or stranger appetites than mortals.  I said some did, and asked him why.  It happened that he professed some confusion.  He had assumed magi had both when I'd ordered the stew, but knew not how I had survived if we did not have magical bellies.When I pressed him, he reminded me of the sight we'd seen as we stabled the horses:  A dead cat, rotting in the sun, maggots squirming on its body, scorned even by the rat we saw a heavyset man kill with a well-aimed stone.  The man had picked up the rat and then, with a glare in our direction, had gingerly scraped up the cat's remains as well."Well, and?""That man, my lord, was the cook.  I thought you knew."Our own people love us well, but the Volakula name is not well-thought of in neighboring parts.  Be wary, my cousin.The trip from Lemannus to Monthey, on the other hand, has proven quite unexceptional.  Of the magi in our covenant, I accompany Polybius, Celeste, and Brigitta.  They are good travelling companions — Polybius is ever good company, Brigitta is lively and quite perceptive at pointing out dangers before they happen rather than, as some might, after they have attacked, and Celeste is an enigma, but a friendly enough one, and startlingly perceptive.  I am, of course, along to prevent the others from being distracted by rude strangers while they do the important work, but it is still good to be here.  The food is good, and the bandits are timid.  I have considered making a night-time foray against them to see what they are made of, but the time for that is after our covenant is established — yet another of many reasons why I hope to see the covenant well-established as quickly as possible.  You will, I trust, be amused to hear that most of the grogs with whom we travel seem to have forgotten than I am a magus — a forgetting I have not discouraged with my insistence that they call me "Captain," and nothing more.  If the reports of us our enemies hear omit me from our roster of magi, we may gain some advantage in future confrontations.You will be less amused to know that I have only had two certámen matches since arriving here.  Both were with Matteo, the Quaestor, and we each won one match.  The terms of our agreement before we began the match leave me Certámen Champion for the covenant, but neither he nor anyone else seems at all interested in challenging me for the position, or even in sparring further without consequence.  I confess myself a bit frustrated, as I desperately need more practice.  If they were Tremeres and the rule was to practice without forfeits or raw vís, we would have multiple matches every day and the Championship would be a prize worth having.  I am too long among our cutthroat house-kin, my cousin, and have grown ill-accustomed to civilized company such as this.  It has just occurred to me as I write this that if I were simply to ask their aid, my companions might well help me practice out of friendship.Friendship.  It minds me of the days before you introduced me to the Hermetic world.  I am pleased.  You will be too.  I look forward to seeing you again.Your loving kinsman,Tsaran</blockquote>

Verification