Lazybones
Hero
Chapter 31
“The cult has an agent here in the Keep,” Leana said. “It’s the only possible explanation for what we experienced on this last expedition.”
The halfling’s announcement was greeted by a moment of silence. The conference room was full; in addition to the Castellan and his two assistants, Dwern and Elandra, the priest of the local temple, Fazzir, was there at Leana’s request. She’d already had a private chat with him, so he stood in quiet support behind her. She was standing on her own chair so she could see over the table, which could have been ridiculous but which she pulled off with simple dignity.
“Now, let’s not be hasty…” Elandra said, but Ravani cut her off with an angry slash of his hand. “Those bandits knew exactly where we would be and when, and they clearly coordinated with the cult; one of the guys we killed was a member.”
“So you say,” Dwern said. “We might need more evidence of that than the fact that he was a bit pale.”
“Castellan,” Leana said, talking quickly before Ravani could get into it with the dwarf. “We have accepted your charge to seek out the cult. We’ve made two trips to the Caves of Chaos, and each time met considerable resistance. The locals clearly know about the cult; the ogre admitted that he had been paid by them to attack us. The fact that even he would not tell us where they were hiding suggests that they have a great deal of influence there. And the fact that they raised his brother as a zombie tells us that their leaders are powerful, in case we had not already figured that out.”
“This cannot be the first time you have wondered about the security of your people in the Keep. Fazzir has told you about the vandalism at his temple; we believe that incident is connected to the cult in some manner. Multiple people we have talked to have mentioned the bandit attacks on the road, and while we do not have a signed confession from the bandit leader stating that he worked with the cult, you have to admit that the intelligence that we have collected to date thus far is concerning.”
Dwern opened his mouth to respond, but held off as the Castellan held up a hand. Winvarle looked tired; there were dark circles under his eyes, and he hadn’t touched his wine goblet.
“We appreciate all that you have done,” the half-elf said. “Your arguments are compelling, and advocate for a final end to the cult as soon as that can be arranged. What do you need from us?”
“For you stop half-assing around would be a good start,” Ravani said. “You have what, two dozen soldiers here? Let’s march over to those damned caves and put an end to it, tomorrow.”
Winvarle shook his head. “I am afraid it is not so simple as that, master elf,” he said. “I have superiors who have made their orders quite clear. The Keep is the last outpost of civilization on this frontier, and the only thing keeping the entire region from tumbling into savagery. I must keep my forces here, to protect the Keep and those who rely on its safety. If the cult does have a hidden foothold within these walls, that becomes even more important; we cannot relax our vigilance until the group and its leaders have been brought to justice.”
“So it’s just the four of us again, is what you’re saying,” Ravani said.
Winvarle stood, pressing his hands against the surface of the table. “You have proven your valor, and your resilience,” he said.
“We’re willing to go back,” Greghan said. “But we’ve already had a few close calls, and our enemies seem to be growing stronger.”
The half-elf nodded. “There is one further aid I can give to your cause,” he said. “Dwern, kindly take our guests to the Great Hall and await me there.”
The Castellan did not keep the adventurers waiting for long. He returned with a servant who was carrying a large parcel wrapped in blue linen. From the way the man moved it was obvious that whatever it was, it was heavy.
Winvarle gestured them over to the head table, currently empty save for a few brass candlesticks. The servant placed the parcel there, and the Castellan himself opened it, spreading its contents out on the tabletop.
It was a set of plate armor, exquisitely fashioned, the metal polished steel, the straps and other accents a deep blue. The breastplate was engraved with the same sigil that showed on the tabards of the Keep’s soldiers and the flags that flew above it, a horse’s head clad in barding.
“My personal armor,” Winvarle said, running his fingertips along the breastplate sigil. “This is a loan, mind you,” he added with a smile.
“That is… amazing,” Greghan said.
“Um, no offense, Castellan,” Ravani said. “But that’ll never fit our guy here. I mean, his shoulders alone, compared to yours…”
“The armor is magical,” Winvarle said. “It will resize itself automatically to fit its wearer.”
“That… that is a princely gift, Castellan,” Leana said. “And it will help us achieve our objective.”
“Then you will return to the Caves, to put an end to it?” Winvarle asked.
Leana sent a look to each of the others in turn. This time, Greghan felt like a part of the group, and his soft nod was offered without hesitation. “We will go tomorrow,” she said. “And deal with this cult once and for all.”
Game Notes:
In the module, the magical armor is not a part of Winvarle’s kit, but it is one of the random treasures in the magic item deck. The adventure is set up to favor the “talk first” approach in the options it provides in the text, but at the same time, that can lead to a group acquiring fewer of the treasures that are available. I am also a fan of solutions that avoid violence, so I took one of those treasures that they skipped and made it available in the Keep.
“The cult has an agent here in the Keep,” Leana said. “It’s the only possible explanation for what we experienced on this last expedition.”
The halfling’s announcement was greeted by a moment of silence. The conference room was full; in addition to the Castellan and his two assistants, Dwern and Elandra, the priest of the local temple, Fazzir, was there at Leana’s request. She’d already had a private chat with him, so he stood in quiet support behind her. She was standing on her own chair so she could see over the table, which could have been ridiculous but which she pulled off with simple dignity.
“Now, let’s not be hasty…” Elandra said, but Ravani cut her off with an angry slash of his hand. “Those bandits knew exactly where we would be and when, and they clearly coordinated with the cult; one of the guys we killed was a member.”
“So you say,” Dwern said. “We might need more evidence of that than the fact that he was a bit pale.”
“Castellan,” Leana said, talking quickly before Ravani could get into it with the dwarf. “We have accepted your charge to seek out the cult. We’ve made two trips to the Caves of Chaos, and each time met considerable resistance. The locals clearly know about the cult; the ogre admitted that he had been paid by them to attack us. The fact that even he would not tell us where they were hiding suggests that they have a great deal of influence there. And the fact that they raised his brother as a zombie tells us that their leaders are powerful, in case we had not already figured that out.”
“This cannot be the first time you have wondered about the security of your people in the Keep. Fazzir has told you about the vandalism at his temple; we believe that incident is connected to the cult in some manner. Multiple people we have talked to have mentioned the bandit attacks on the road, and while we do not have a signed confession from the bandit leader stating that he worked with the cult, you have to admit that the intelligence that we have collected to date thus far is concerning.”
Dwern opened his mouth to respond, but held off as the Castellan held up a hand. Winvarle looked tired; there were dark circles under his eyes, and he hadn’t touched his wine goblet.
“We appreciate all that you have done,” the half-elf said. “Your arguments are compelling, and advocate for a final end to the cult as soon as that can be arranged. What do you need from us?”
“For you stop half-assing around would be a good start,” Ravani said. “You have what, two dozen soldiers here? Let’s march over to those damned caves and put an end to it, tomorrow.”
Winvarle shook his head. “I am afraid it is not so simple as that, master elf,” he said. “I have superiors who have made their orders quite clear. The Keep is the last outpost of civilization on this frontier, and the only thing keeping the entire region from tumbling into savagery. I must keep my forces here, to protect the Keep and those who rely on its safety. If the cult does have a hidden foothold within these walls, that becomes even more important; we cannot relax our vigilance until the group and its leaders have been brought to justice.”
“So it’s just the four of us again, is what you’re saying,” Ravani said.
Winvarle stood, pressing his hands against the surface of the table. “You have proven your valor, and your resilience,” he said.
“We’re willing to go back,” Greghan said. “But we’ve already had a few close calls, and our enemies seem to be growing stronger.”
The half-elf nodded. “There is one further aid I can give to your cause,” he said. “Dwern, kindly take our guests to the Great Hall and await me there.”
The Castellan did not keep the adventurers waiting for long. He returned with a servant who was carrying a large parcel wrapped in blue linen. From the way the man moved it was obvious that whatever it was, it was heavy.
Winvarle gestured them over to the head table, currently empty save for a few brass candlesticks. The servant placed the parcel there, and the Castellan himself opened it, spreading its contents out on the tabletop.
It was a set of plate armor, exquisitely fashioned, the metal polished steel, the straps and other accents a deep blue. The breastplate was engraved with the same sigil that showed on the tabards of the Keep’s soldiers and the flags that flew above it, a horse’s head clad in barding.
“My personal armor,” Winvarle said, running his fingertips along the breastplate sigil. “This is a loan, mind you,” he added with a smile.
“That is… amazing,” Greghan said.
“Um, no offense, Castellan,” Ravani said. “But that’ll never fit our guy here. I mean, his shoulders alone, compared to yours…”
“The armor is magical,” Winvarle said. “It will resize itself automatically to fit its wearer.”
“That… that is a princely gift, Castellan,” Leana said. “And it will help us achieve our objective.”
“Then you will return to the Caves, to put an end to it?” Winvarle asked.
Leana sent a look to each of the others in turn. This time, Greghan felt like a part of the group, and his soft nod was offered without hesitation. “We will go tomorrow,” she said. “And deal with this cult once and for all.”
Game Notes:
In the module, the magical armor is not a part of Winvarle’s kit, but it is one of the random treasures in the magic item deck. The adventure is set up to favor the “talk first” approach in the options it provides in the text, but at the same time, that can lead to a group acquiring fewer of the treasures that are available. I am also a fan of solutions that avoid violence, so I took one of those treasures that they skipped and made it available in the Keep.
