(Cydra) The Year 271 Campaign (Low Magic experiment)

[the Jester]

The invitations go out to everyone in town, and then some. Sir Cedric dispatches Colder- Sir Galadon’s messenger, who has accompanied our heroes back to Whitewater- to the Goblin Gorge to invite Brart and his advisor to the wedding. He sends another errand boy to try to find Tumenore the Bandit-Hunter. He invites, literally, everyone in the town. “Ethpethially the children!” he declares. Then he gets very, very drunk; he does not know if he can go through with this. He thought that his brother would be the one to inherit the estate, and that he would spend his years riding Thunderpuss against enemies of his people

Cara is very nervous. There is not enough time for rehearsals. She looks fat in her dress. Is her hair okay? Does it need trimming? Will her makeup run? Is it going to be hot? “Oh, mom!” she cries, emotions overcoming her. Her mother takes her hands and soothes her, assuring her that everything will go fine.

The sad moment comes when she attempts to invite the Old-Timer to the wedding. There is no answer at his door. She and Kyle peer inside his darkened home, and they can see him shuddering on his bed. When they force their way in, they find, to their intense sorrow, that he has come down with the wasting sickness- the same sickness that is slowly killing Sir Cedric’s mother. Cara’s heart fills with pain. If only there was a cure! she thinks fervently, but even the mountain flowers that our heroes retrieved have proven ineffective.

In the evening, Goer arranges a bachelor party for Sir Cedric, who promptly invites his betrothed to join them. Goer scratches his head at that; bringing Cara rather defeats the purpose of a bachelor party. “It’s not like Whitewater’s big enough to have any whores anyway,” Kyle points out. But it is certainly big enough to provide a large quantity of drink for all of our heroes, and they enjoy a night of revelry and alcohol.

The next day is the wedding. The elf- now in a bag, rather than the filthy box that he had been in- is an honored guest, though he still has not spoken. There are no clichéd last-minute problems, no old enemies resurfacing at the last minute. Even the captive dragon can do naught but squirm in its chains, with its muzzle bound securely shut against trouble. Nor do Brart and his advisor come; of course, Colder has barely had time to reach and invite them. Tumenore is a no-show, too; one wonders whether he even received word of the impending wedding. Regardless, things go off without a hitch, and Cara is no longer Cara Reed; she is now Dame Cara Whitewater, wife of Sir Cedric.

Again, the revels last deep into the night. Sir Martin beams happily at his son and his new daughter-in-law. I hope they have many strong children, he thinks, grinning. It is one of the few occasions of unsullied joy he has had since the wasting sickness began eating away at his wife.

It is not long before our heroes return to Kamenda City. Their time is very limited if they are to make it to the cemetery meeting. They have a trap to spring.

Or so they think.

Jorgen makes arrangements with Sir Harth; the town guard will be ready to move into the cemetery to aid the party at a moment’s notice. They will be nearby, alert and in force. Whatever cabal of black magicians and Tydonian spies the party is rooting out will not escape them.

When the appointed night comes the party heads to the cemetery, the elf in tow. Little do they realize that the real trap is set for them. It will be immediately after things go so very wrong that they realize that, somewhere- either among the group or among the baron’s closest advisors- there is a traitor.

Next Time: The Cemetery Trap!

 

[the Jester]

The Cemetery Trap

Our heroes make their way into the cemetery. The watch should be in force nearby, ready to spring the trap. The night is chill, and pools of fog are churning as the party enters the darkened fields of the dead.

Kyle nervously soothes the limbless elf, speaking to him in Elven. The mutilated elf- the only elf our heroes have ever seen, mind you- does not respond beyond a moan.

“ Meet our friends in the graveyard on 7/16. They will have a few interesting items for you in trade for the elf. They serve our cause.” That’s what the note the Tydonians were carrying said. Conspirators in the city, thinks Sheriff Jorgen grimly. But why?

It is time to find out: the night of the 16th. The sky is black, but here and there lamps, torches, watch fires burn. Our heroes traipse through the cemetery alertly, wandering through the headstones until, near a mausoleum, they see a group of silhouettes standing in the darkness.

“Do you have the elf?” a male voice calls.

“Do you have the items?” replies Jorgen.

“Of course. Do you have the elf?”

“Of course,” the sheriff answers. “We should trade.”

From the darkness, a chuckle. Then arrows are streaming in from the fields of graves behind the party. One zings off Goer’s shield; another sinks into his thigh. He yelps, and Dahlia staggers as a feathered shaft sticks her in the shoulder. She can feel the wound burning, and a wave of dizziness washes over her. Poison! she thinks.

Kyle speaks to the elf (who Sir Cedric has now re-christened Mr. Bags). “If you do not destroy the Tydonians in front of you, they will take you again!” he cries urgently in Elven. Then, as if to set an example for the elf, Kyle casts a magic missile at the man who was speaking for the villains. A moment later Sir Cedric rides that enemy down, utterly slaying him.

There is a beautiful woman amongst the enemy, and with a smile she charms Kyle. Meanwhile, another of the enemy attempts to immobilize Sir Cedric with black magic, but to no avail! He hews about himself, cutting open the chest of one of the cultists after overrunning him.

From behind the poisoned arrows keep falling, but a group of our heroes rushes to engage the archers, who turn out to be reasonably formidable.

Kyle tries again to invigorate the elf. This time, he shouts more harshly, in Tydonian. “Now! Destroy them! Destroy them! -Except the female. She’s nice,” he adds.

The elf moans and begins to mutter. Suddenly a glowing red, pea-sized ball streaks out at the enemy- and blossoms into a fireball.

The momentary flash of light reveals a wave of undead moving in around the battle.

“Magic missile the one in front of you- for your freedom’s sake!” Kyle shouts. A volley of magical arrows of force flashes out and blasts one of the archers.

One of the enemy turns out to be a priest, and he attempts to heal the spokesman, but it comes too late. Then, when the undead arrive- a horrible grave of walking zombies- one of the archers falls to its blows.

“This isn’t what I agreed to!” cries another of the archers, eyes wide in fear. The remaining archers fall back and away, into the graveyard. Our heroes thus turn their attentions to the walking dead assailing them. Dahlia tries to fall back, but is felled by the zombies’ grasping fingers.

“Run,” the female enemy says to Cara, and the pregnant bard turns and flees immediately. The woman laughs, her raven hair half-obscuring her face. Sir Cedric aims a mighty blow at her, but it does her no harm. He gives a great start and wheels around for another pass, even as she laughs again.

She vanishes.

Our heroes look on in consternation, but the undead are still coming. Sir Cedric uses his newfound faith and turns them even as Jorgen and Colder hack about themselves with their blades. In only a moment, the battle is won.

“Cara?” cries Sir Cedric. He puts his heels to Thunderpuss and his beloved horse begins trotting forward in the dark.

She is nowhere to be found.

Next Time: Trickery! Treachery! And Treason!

 

[the Jester]

Trickery and Treason!

“Cara! Cara!” Sir Cedric’s voice rings through the darkened cemetery.

“Where is the watch?” wonders Jorgen. Didn’t we have this all set up? But a quick check reveals nothing- no watch presence nearby. His skin starts to crawl. Something is very wrong here.

“I can’t find any tracks,” Dahlia reports.

“Cara!” cries Sir Cedric. “Cara, my thweet! Where are you?”

“I found this.” Kyle waves a note. “The guy who did the talking for them had it.”

The others crowd around eagerly to read it.

Thelron-

I am pleased by your progress in recruiting more of the folk to our cause. Tie them tightly to us by enlisting their aid in dark rituals; then we need not fear their betrayal, for to betray us is to betray themselves. Bind them to us and have them bring others before us to join them in our cause! Our numbers shall grow, and we will spread like rot in an aged tree!

Once you have amassed a sufficient number- there must be nineteen of you- send me word and I will give to you a book that describes a great ritual of power, one that has been lost for centuries. It will allow the priestly of you to combine your black magicks together and to increase their power dramatically. And I will give you a text which you may have heard about- the Codex Cruentis.

As you can tell, there are many things about which you have not yet been informed. If you continue to progress as you have been, you soon shall be. You must be ready by New Year’s Eve: you will take your nineteen and go to the Ghost Tower. That night, a black moon will rise into the sky. Assuming we have the tool we need, we shall be able to open the gates of fire. And the tool is close at hand.

Remember, do nothing to force those we seek to bring into our circle to act against us! Until the time is ripe, we must remain most discreet. I count on you to restrain K’Vizz until the moment comes.

Remember, too, that betrayal is death.


Yours Sincerely.

“Cara!” screams Sir Cedric to the night.

“What are we going to do?” gasps Kyle.

“First, we must escort our wounded back to the Spinning Dice,” muses Jorgen, thinking aloud. “Then we should figure out what happened to the watch.”

“And Cara,” adds Colder.

***

Though Sir Cedric is distraught to leave the cemetery without Cara, he recognizes the futility of staying. The group returns to the inn, where Cedric tends to Dahlia’s wounds, and soon she groans into consciousness.

“Now let’s go to see the baron and his advisors,” insists Jorgen.

“It is the middle of the night,” Goer points out.

“They knew the plan. Something went wrong.” Jorgen looks grim and angry.

Goer shrugs. “All right, then.”

Jorgen and Sir Cedric go to the citadel, where they find everyone asleep. They send a page to wake Sir Harth with word that it is urgent. He comes out in his nightclothes. “What is it?” he asks alertly.

Sir Cedric and Jorgen relate their tale. “Where were the watchmen?” demands Jorgen.

Sir Harth looks confused. “You- you told us it was off.”

“What! I did!” exclaims Jorgen.

“Yes. Or, from your expression, someone who looked... disturbingly similar to you.”

***

Meanwhile, back at the inn-

“Cara!” exclaims Kyle.

Sir Cedric’s new bride hurries in. “I’m so glad to find you guys!”

“What happened?” asks Colder.

“She captured me and took me to her lair, but I managed to escape. I don’t think she knows that I’m gone- if we hurry, we can catch her!”

“Good idea,” Goer nods. “Let’s go.”

“Wait a second! She’s after the elf, right? So let’s leave him here, with someone to guard him. That way there’s no danger that she’ll get her hands on him when we attack her.” The others nod, and Dahlia volunteers to stay with the elf, as she is too wounded to be an effective combatant. Soon the group is following Cara through a maze of streets and alleys. “She was in the sewers,” Cara claims. After a twenty minute journey, they come to a dilapidated area with uninhabited, broken buildings.

“Is that the entrance?” Goer asks, pointing at a nearby manhole cover. “Cara?”

He looks around.

“Cara?”

***

Sir Cedric’s timing could not have been more fortuitous. He reaches the inn just as someone is trying to take the elf away. A woman, seemingly different from the one they faced in the cemetery. When Cedric confronts her, wondering, Where are the others?, she sprouts bat wings and tries to fly away with Mr. Bags! Worse, her features change: she is the same woman as they fought previously.

Cedric is having none of this. Even as the woman starts to glow with eldritch green faerie fire evoked by Dahlia, Cedric rains a series of blows on her... to no avail. She shrugs them off. He wounds her only very slightly.

“By the power of my pinky finger!” Sir Cedric declares, and casting his sword aside he reaches out and begins grappling with the bat-winged demon. She hisses and claws at him, but in a moment he has her pressed to the ground.

She vanishes out from under him, and Sir Cedric collapses onto the ground. “Thecure the elf!” he shouts, flailing his arms about as he pulls himself hurriedly back up.

Dahlia and Cedric stand guard together. “She has mind-control powers,” Dahlia comments. “We must be wary.”

***

“There is treason afoot,” Jorgen muses to himself as he finally lays in bed that night. “It’s the only explanation. How did they know to call off the watch? And they were laying in wait for us.” He frowns, his brow furrows. “Someone tipped them off. But who? Only the baron and his closest advisors, and of course the members of the party, knew about our plan.” He grimaces.

Treason. An ugly word.

Jorgen can’t sleep for a long time.

Next Time: To Rescue Cara!

 

[the Jester]

At the start of the next game, the party lineup consists of:

Kyle- rog 3/wiz 2 (hp 11!)
Dahlia- druid 5
Otis- wizard 4
Colder- ftr 3/rog 1
Me- barb 2/scout 2
Cara- bard 4
Goer- ftr 4
Sir Cedric- knight 4
Sheriff Jorgan- ftr 3/rog 2

You haven't met Me yet.

 

[the Jester]

“What can we do to find her?” wonders Dahlia. The morning crowd at the Spinning Dice is all around our heroes; the smells of breakfast and the sounds of cooking dance through the air.

“I wonder what the deal was with the undead,” muses Colder. “They seemed to attack the guys attacking us, or at least one of them. Maybe they weren’t in cahoots.”

“Maybe they weren’t especially in cahoots, but I think they were in cahoots enough,” Kyle comments wryly.

“What about that woman?” asks Goer. “What’s up with her?”

“Thee thprouted bat wingth,” declares Sir Cedric drunkenly.

“And she seemed able to vanish,” Kyle adds. “I don’t know if she was turning invisible somehow, or- just gone.”

Otis says, “The two that bore religious symbols were clerics of Dreymore.”

“Well, we can at least do some asking around,” Jorgen suggests. “It has done well by me in the past- that’s how I found those Tydonian spies.”

The group agrees that this is their best starting point, and over the course of the day they do just that. They learn a number of interesting things concerning various pieces of the puzzle.

At the Cathedral of Clymorian, the priests speculate that the woman might be a demon called a succubus, able to move instantly from place to place and change her form. Jorgen nods; that could explain how he was supposedly the one that called off the party’s own trap in the cemetery.

Allegedly, the graveyard is haunted, so it’s possible that the undead the party encountered were there by coincidence. Better than that, though, one local fellow tells our heroes, “I overheard some guys talking about a job they’d been hired to do in the cemetery- to rough some guys up.” The speaker describes the four men he had seen, and they sound like the rogues that ambushed the party in the graveyard. This happened at a seedy bar called the Hopping Chicken.

“That’s a lead,” comments Colder.

Another man, upon being purchased a loaf of bread and bottle of wine, gives them another lead. “Thelron, you say? I remember that name from somewhere... oh yeah, there was a wanted poster!”

Yet another person, conversing with Goer in a bar, says, “I talked to a guy once who went to the Ghost Tower. He said there were weird winged beasts there, and terrible monsters that threw spikes at him! And there was the ghost of a powerful wizard that almost killed him!”

Finally, a thin old man with bitter eyes tells the party, “Yeah, there’s a secret group that practices black magic in the city- if you listen to the rumors, you can put it together. I think that most of ‘em are probably knights and nobles, anyway. They got all the books and stuff.” The man has no evidence of his claims, but he’s convinced. “How else could they still be around? Wouldn’t the nobles and knights hunt them down otherwise? And who else has time for stuff like that? Not us farmers, that’s for sure!”

Following up on the report of the poster gets the party to a tattered wanted poster describing Thelron as a bandit and rapist, and offering a 60 gp reward for his head. The party decides to see if they can collect this later. “Sixty gold is a lot of money,” remarks Goer.

“That depends,” Otis says obliquely, hiding a smile. His gambling has made him rich- very rich.

Evening is falling. The party heads to the citadel to report to the baron, but before they reach it Jorgen stops them. “I’m concerned about something,” he says. “I think... I think that there is a traitor among the baron’s closest advisors.”

That gets everyone’s attention.

Jorgen explains his suspicions. “It seems to me that only the baron, his main advisors and us knew what was going on with the plan to trick them in the graveyard, but they laid a trap for us. They knew we were coming. Someone tipped them off.”

“So... Sir Galadon or Sir Harth?” asks Kyle.

“I think one of them is most likely- they were privy first hand to all our discussions with the baron and about the plan. Or perhaps Sir Byron or Sir Gygax- they too are on the baron’s close council. They are likely to be well-informed.” Jorgen adds, “Also, whoever called off the plan to lay our own trap supposedly looked just like me.”

“The woman could change shape; perhaps she imitated you,” suggests Otis.

“Both have thtellar reputationth,” Sir Cedric says, sipping his beverage. “Come! We mutht not make the baron wait.” The party hurries into the citadel, where they report their progress- and their suspicions.

“If there is a traitor, you must ferret him out,” states the Baron. For a moment his voice breaks, but then he catches himself and continues along in a deep, booming voice.

“By the power of my pinkie finger,” declares Cedric, “we thall!”

While at the baron’s citadel, the party meets a half-orc scout calling himself Me. Apparently, he brings news of a big army only a handful of days away. Sir Cedric bristles; it is a mass of Tydonian rabble! “We will dethtroy them on the fieldth of battle!” Cedric announces gleefully.

“Me destroy!” the half-orc yells happily.

“How far away are they?” asks Kyle.

Me looks thoughtful for about ten seconds before holding out a splayed hand. “Five!”

“Five... miles? Five days?”

“Five days!” Perhaps Me is best described as a pissblood of few words, but enthusiastic ones. When the group relates their story to him, he eloquently expresses that “Me crush thieves!” and “Bad army coming!”

Our heroes are so amused by the scout- who appears to be between assignments- that they suggest that he stay at the same inn as them, and he begins tagging along with them.

Jorgen remains at the castle to see what he can stir up, while the others return to the Spinning Dice. After a brief discussion, the party decides that they will go to the Hopping Chicken in the hopes that they will find some information about the rogues that assaulted them.

Indeed, they luck out and find one of the rogues, spying him within while they are still outside. Otis turns Kyle invisible and the party moves in. The rogue backs down easily and submits to questioning. He claims that his friends and he were just hired to rough the party up.

“Hired by whom?” demands Otis.

“A guy named Thelron.”

The party doesn’t get much more out of him, however, for he gets a little mouthy and Otis blasts him with a magic missile, laying him low. The party departs before the amazed people in the tavern can do more than gape.

It has been a long day; at this point our heroes retire.

Tomorrow, they vow, they will try to trick the traitor into revealing himself.

Next Time: Our heroes attempt to ferret out the traitor!

 

[the Jester]

Ferreting Out the Traitor

“So who is the traitor?” wonders Jorgen aloud. “Sir Galadon or Sir Harth?”

“It seems more and more like we’ve been led around to all the wrong places since we got here,” remarks Otis.

Kyle nods. “It had to be one of them! No one else knew where we were going and what we were doing.”

“Except the baron himself,” Otis mentions.

There is a moment of silence at that, but then Colder scowls. “That doesn’t make any sense. That would make him a traitor against himself.”

“Baron traitor?” asks Me.

“No, we don’t think so.”

“Who traitor?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“Crush traitor!”

The group ponders for a few moments. They are, of course, in the privacy of one of their rooms in the Spinning Dice. They would be most uneasy having this conversation anywhere where they could be overheard.

Dahlia says, “I have an idea. We can go to one of them at a time, privately, and see what we can ferret out.” Hrar, her badger, gives a loud purr. “We could even see how each of them reacts if we tell him that we suspect the other advisor.”

“That’s a good idea,” nods Otis.

My master couldn’t be a traitor... could he? wonders Colder, leaning against the wall. He has remained silent until now; the others do not seem to be holding his affiliation with Sir Galadon against him. Still, he doesn’t want to provoke any possible reactions... He sighs. For now, at least, he will hold his tongue.

“One more thing,” Kyle cautions. “Don’t forget about the dragon.”

Oh yeah, the dragon- Snowflake, the baby white dragon that devoured our heroes’ former companion, Cur Sed Seed. Currently tied up in the dungeon beneath the citadel; our heroes have little enough idea what to do with him. They have begun trying to sell him to Baron Rusk, who has shown sort of an abstract interest.

The party sets out to execute their plan. After some more discussion, they decide to begin by seeking a private audience with Sir Galadon. It takes nearly an hour for the lord to have time for them; when he does, he is attentive but- at first- brusque. But when they mention that they are trying to track down the traitor, he becomes much more interested.

“Have you had any luck?” he asks.

Dahlia hesitates, then- as nobody else seems to be picking up the pieces- she replies, “Well, we have some suspicions.” She doesn’t really know how to broach the subject now that the moment is at hand, so she figures she’ll just barrel ahead. “What would you say if we said that we had found some evidence that it might be Sir Harth?”

“Inconceivable!” explodes Sir Galadon. “Impossible! I- I cannot conceive of it!” He sits down heavily, bringing a hand to his brow. He shakes his head sadly. “What sort of evidence?”

“Well- we don’t want to say just yet,” interjects Kyle. “Not until we’re sure. But we just wanted to warn you to keep your eyes open; be on the lookout.”

“Of course,” says Sir Galadon darkly, “without evidence I would be more prone to suspect one of you than him.”

“Oh, we know it’s not us,” Kyle responds, carefully keeping a straight face.

“And after all, we were the ones who were almost killed in the graveyard,” Dahlia adds.

They talk with him for a few more moments, probing for signs of treachery, but as soon as they leave, Colder says, “It’s not him.”

“I agree,” nods Otis.

“Nope, not him,” Dahlia assents. The others seem to share the majority opinion. “If it was him, I think he would have tried to point us more at Harth, especially if we already suspect him.”

“Well, let’s see if Sir Harth will attempt to point us at Sir Galadon,” suggests Otis. The party quickly makes an appointment to see the other advisor. About twenty minutes later Sir Harth arrives, smelling of the perfumes of the baron’s court.

“How may I help you, my friends?” he smiles.

“We’re trying to figure out who the traitor is,” begins Dahlia, and the group enacts their plan once again, this time asserting that Sir Galadon might be the traitor.

“I can’t believe it! Galadon- a traitor? It cannot be! And yet... someone must be the traitor.” He looks at Dahlia, who is serving as the primary speaker for the party in the conversation. “You say you have evidence, eh?”

“Some,” she hedges.

“We’re still developing the evidence,” Colder puts in.

“How can I help, my friends?”

“Well, just keep your eyes open,” Dahlia says. “Be wary and watchful.” After pondering for an instant, she adds, “Unless there’s anything else you could do...?”

Thoughtfully, Sir Harth rubs his chin. “Perhaps there is,” he says. “Perhaps there is.” He tells the party that Sir Galadon’s entire household is sometimes empty. “When he brings them all, I could inform you by rubbing my brow like this,” he continues, demonstrating, “and you could rush to his home and search it. Then you could alert me to whether you found any evidence by pulling your right earlobe (like this) if you did, and pulling your left earlobe (like this) if you did not.”

After leaving their meeting, Otis immediately says, “It’s him.”

There is a general chorus of agreement.

“But how can we prove it?” wonders Dahlia. “Knowing it- or at least believing it- is one thing; finding proof is another.”

“Maybe we could search his house instead of Galadon’s,” suggests Colder.

“Maybe do both,” nods Kyle.

“Crush traitor!” growls Me.

“Yeah, what if both of them are traitors?” Kyle gasps. “That would be terrible!”

“Then all is lost,” Dahlia says grimly. “We just have to hope that isn’t the case.”

Next Time: Our heroes check out the homes of Sir Galadon and Sir Harth! What shocking evidence will they find? Will they have enough to make an accusation? Will their suspicions prove true??

 

[Brain]

I enjoyed the whole "ferreting out the traitor" scenario a lot. As you can see we were pretty confident at this point, but things get tricky soon!

 

[Zaruthustran]

This is good stuff. It starts out fun and just gets better.

So... did Cur's player drop out of the group, or is he/she playing someone else Colder or Me?

-z

 

[the Jester]

This is good stuff. It starts out fun and just gets better.

So... did Cur's player drop out of the group, or is he/she playing someone else Colder or Me?

-z

He's Colder now.

My players don't drop out when they die, generally; they know that they're likely to lose a pc now and again in my game. I think everyone pretty well accepts that my campaign has a fairly high mortality rate. In fact, I've gotten a couple of surprised comments about how few deaths this particular arc has seen so far.

 

[the Jester]

Housebreaking

That evening there is a great party at the citadel. Drink and be merry, for tomorrow- or at least, in a few days- we may die. Battle is coming; love your friends and make peace with your enemies, for you may not get another chance. Music trills in the area, making our heroes ache for the missing Cara. The delicious smells filling the air make our heroes’ mouths water, and as they head over to the baron’s table to report Goer plucks small bits of meat, a roll and some grapes with which to stuff his mouth. By the time they reach the table, he is chewing happily.

“How goes your investigation?” scowls Sir Galadon.

“It proceeds apace,” Otis replies obliquely.

Sir Galadon frowns at them. Behind him and to the side, Sir Harth turns to look directly at Dahlia and rubs his temple. The party briefly explains that they are convinced that they have almost tracked down the traitor, but they can detect no reaction from either of their two suspects. As soon as she can, Dahlia takes the others aside.

“Harth gave me the sign,” she says excitedly. “Sir Galadon’s house should be empty!”

“We should check out both of their homes,” murmurs Colder, casting a glance towards the baron’s table, at which both Sir Galadon and Sir Harth are seated. The others agree, and after a token appearance our heroes quickly depart as surreptitiously as they can manage. Colder broods over the possibility that his master might be a traitor. It can’t be him, can it? he thinks.

The party quickly moves across the town, following dark streets beneath a starry sky. Fortunately for them, Colder knows where both of the houses in question are. Soon the band of heroes reaches Sir Harth’s residence: walled and well-guarded, which they only manage to penetrate via Otis’ amazing spells, which render him temporarily invisible to normal sight. But in his brief jaunt in the mansion, Otis sees no evidence of treason. Realizing that his spell lasts only a few minutes, he renews it while within the place, then- once he is truly out of time- Otis flees the scene.

The mansion’s guards hail the other party members (who are out on the street). The guards are suspicious and unfriendly, but they don’t try anything shady. They simply don’t like the looks of our heroes and want them to remove themselves from the area. Once Otis rejoins them, the party agrees and moves away, weathering a hail of suspicion.

“I found nothing,” Otis reports.

The party moves on to Sir Galadon’s house, which is an entirely different sort of thing. There are no guards. The place is surrounded by a simple fence. It is much smaller and simpler. No lights are on; it appears to be empty.

“Can you go invisible again?” whispers Dahlia.

Otis replies, “No.”

“Then I’ll scout ahead,” she tells him, and before his eyes she transforms into an owl! In seconds she is flying up and out into the night. She returns a little later and leads the party to the house’s entrance. Nobody is in sight; it is dark. The door is locked, but Dahlia springs it with a warp wood. As the party enters, Colder squirms uncomfortably.

“I’ll keep a lookout for Sir Galadon’s coach,” he says, and stays on the front porch.

Quickly our heroes look through the ground floor of the house, and they find a narrow stairway down into a basement. Our heroes descend down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs is a large basement. All of the stuff in one section of it has been shoved aside to make room for an altar of bone. Fairly fresh blood has dripped from it recently.

“Knight traitor?” asks Me.

“Maybe,” replies Kyle. “Maybe.”

***

Meanwhile, on the porch, Colder catches sight of the lights on Sir Galadon’s coach. “They’re coming!” he calls urgently into the house.

From below, a sudden exclamation of noise is obvious. The rest of the party comes boiling up from below. “Kitchen window,” Otis urges.

“I’ll provide a distraction,” Colder says.

“Get out of there! What are you doing!” exclaims Kyle, as he pulls himself out the kitchen window.

“It is my duty,” Colder answers firmly.

“We don’t want to be caught here,” Dahlia reminds him. “We’re suspects too.”

“Go!” he says from the porch, turning away.

Dahlia uses another warp wood to return the door to its former shape, then pulls herself out the window as well. She and the rest of the party hurry away as Colder stands on the porch, waiting for Galadon’s coach to pull up. When it does, the door opens and Sir Galadon steps out. “Colder? Is that you?”

“Aye, my lord.”

“What are you doing here? What’s going on?” Sir Galadon looks suspicious.

“Well, there was an intruder here. I was attempting to guard your property, my lord.”

“Why were you here in the first place? How did you know there was an intruder?”

“The door was warped.”

Sir Galadon stares pointedly at the door.

“Oh! They must have... un-warped it,” Colder explains.

“Search the house,” Sir Galadon directs his men. “You stay here with me,” he tells Colder. I want to keep my eye on you. A few minutes later, one of his men hurries back from the house and reports in low tones to him.

Sir Galadon turns, white as a ghost, to face Colder. “Colder, what have you done?” he cries. Then his eyes narrow. “I think I see now. You are the traitor we seek.” In a loud, commanding voice, he declares, “You are under arrest.”

Next Time: What the hell just happened there? What do our heroes do next? Who is the traitor? And more!