PART ONE
Session One
The city of Ankari Talaron is alive with the sights and sounds of celebration the likes of which the world has not seen in over four hundred years. The perfectly formed crystal walls of the city appear to have risen out of the ground in a natural formation. Their sparkling depths dance with color. Over the city, screams of delight come from those that have gained the ability to fly. Several couples perform an aerial tango while group of young children fight gravity in a game air ball, the goal lines being between pairs of towers. Thin shimmering fields of multicolored crystal dance everywhere creating a breathtaking display and in the streets below, crowds have gathered to take it all in. Some in jealousy but most in honest happiness that their friends have had their heritage returned to them. Only a quarter of the population has the blood of the Talarie running through their veins but all share in the celebration. A non stop party has been going on for close to a month with no end in site.
In a small side street near the warehouse district, a roughly dressed dwarf yanks his gaze from the spectacle above with a scowl and hurls his half filled bottle of spirits at the ground. The dwarf’s thick soled boots crunch over the glass shards as he follows the last of his companions into the decrepit tavern. Or at least that was the appearance on the outside. The word “ale” is scrawled almost illegibly across a crooked board nailed above the door. The tavern was most likely once part of a large warehouse but if any enter expecting a drafty open room than they were highly mistaken. Inside, the dwarf is assaulted by the smell of good mead and freshly cooked meat. People danced in an area of cleared tables to a passable fiddler whiles others listened to a bard relate the history of the mad king from his table perch in the corner of the room. Four large hearths warm the tavern without a name and it seemed to the dwarf that the whole thing had been set up to belie his dour mood. He had just started to turn and leave when the unmistakable deep voice of Tier boomed over the room
“Dulgar! Get over hear so Evrin can sing our story already!…. Undoubtedly we’ll need your great cursing skills to help us relate our feelings on the subject”
Realizing that he would never escape, Dulgar grumbled under his breath and yanked a mug of ale from the passing tray of a serving girl before trudging over to take a seat at the table in brooding silence.
Next to him, Tempest look quite a bit more a attentive but seemed to stay away from his foam covered mug of ale as though it just might jump up and bite him. The first time he had come into the tavern Tempest had made the mistake of requesting wine from the gruff dwarven innkeeper Krondor. The reply was an axe landing inches from his hand on the bar and a growl of
“get….out!”
“But I”
“get…”
“I see….”
“…OUT!”
The Sorcerer was quick enough to make his exit to the exploding laughter of the entire tavern. It’s a running joke that if anyone that enters the tavern and requests anything but meat or mead they get the axe treatment. Krondor claims it keeps the undesirables out.
Across to Tempest sits Coop, unconsciously polishing his golden crown with one of his infamous sly grins plastered on his face. The bard’s gaze is on a traveling priest of Arimaru who is engaged in games of chance a few tables over.
Simagi and Tempest both have their attention on Everin Starhand who is singing a ballad of the mad king’s war.
Eventually Everin finishes up to scattered applause
The bard comes over and takes a seat with the party.
“Finally made it back eh friends?”
“ Yep….didn’t find Ironcrow either.”
“To bad…I..”
“Enough small talk, Coop pipes in. Sing our song so I can bask in my glory and all that.
“So rushed are we?….well if you insist” the bard says with a chuckle.
The bard bulls out a black glove that seems to twinkle on his hand and removes a polished lute from its case.
Everin starts to pluck at his instrument with ease and small sparks that twinkle like stars start to float through the air around him. The room falls into a hush and even Dulgar pulls his attention away from the mug in his hand. The group had spent an entire evening several weeks ago collectively telling their story to Everin and now they and the other patrons want to hear the story of those who restored the Talaire from a professional bard.
Verse after verse seems to float through the air with an effortless ease of one who truly knows his art. Everin Starhand has gained a reputation and it appears that it is well earned. Ten minutes later his voice finishes the last verse of the ballad and the room is once again silent. Moments pass before the entire crowd erupts into applause and cheering. Even Dulgar seems to give a nod of approval (or perhaps it was merely the intoxicated bumble of a drunk?)
Many of the younger crowd comes over to shake hands and slap backs until eventually everyone settles back down. Coop goes on toe prove that Arimaru, the god of luck and risk takers is not always with his priests and his purse is all the fatter for it. Eventually the companions who have been dubbed the “Company of the Golden Dragon” settle down for the second part of the Krondor’s business plan. Meat. There’s never any certainty when you order from Krondor. Every man at the table can order meat and everyone will get something different. However no one every complains about the food (or at least no one has while in the bounds of Krondor’s domain) curtsey of the women of Krondor’s life who is affectionately referred to as “WIFE!”
With the last of the mead and meat consumed a white clad woman flows as much as walks into the tavern. She is perhaps 80 but with an ageless quality that makes the party not quite sure. The woman is little more than skin and bone yet she walks with an unstooped perfect posture. Around her the wild dancers spiral and turn yet she walks through their ranks with serenity and grace to make the group believe that a bubble of calm envelops her. The old woman’s gaze surveys the crowd until it falls upon their table and a great grandmotherly grin creases her wrinkled skin.
Everin suddenly pushes away form the table and tosses his napkin onto his empty plate. “Your about to find some more tales if I’m not mistaken friends…and I rarely am. I’ve a midnight party to entertain tonight but look me up some time so we can get an ending to that song…..unless the our mighty king would care to outdo me?” His grin and a shoulder pat shows that he is only jesting. “I’ll be heading back north in a few days but do hope we meet again.” He clasps hands with everyone and then takes his leave as the old woman comes to a stop beside their table. She smiles expectantly as though waiting for something. A few awkward moments pass before Tiere finally clears his throat with a cough. “Can we help you grandmother?”
“Ahhh…yes…yes you can.” She looks as though she is awakening out of a dream. “Please have a seat,” Tempest says, gesturing to the vacated seat next to him. “ahh…yes thank you.”
“… yes….I knew I was looking for you…your just the ones…Oh…how rude of me. My name is Carrow, priestess of Madriel” her smile is genuine and warm and everyone feels delighted to make this woman’s acquaintance. The silence stretches on for a few more moments before Simagi cuts in
“You said you were looking for us?”
“Oh..yes. I need you to find young kemp for me”
“Kemp?” he adds quickly before silence can descend once more
“Yes…..I sent him off to Bellhold. He was to get one of those fine bells for the new church….she shakes her head once and seems to snap out of whatever daze she was in…..Bellhold…its famous for the beautiful ring of the church bells made there. I could have just had one made in the city but I wanted something special for the Healing House of Madriel…that’s the church that I’m building. Up in the temple district. …A place for the sick to find rest and those weary in mind to find a place of tranquility to recover in. That is my dream. I’ve been working for it for the past 40 years and just this past one the church finally gave me permission the start on the healing house. Kemp…he’s my acolyte. A good boy…he learns so well. I sent him off with a wagon two weeks ago to Bellhold….a three day trip each way and he has yet to return. I’m growing worried for him. I can’t leave now with the construction is so close to completion. I’m needed here to oversee everything. I was wondering if you could find time to help me look for him. I’m sure he’s fine and just held up somewhere but I’ve been having the worst dreams lately and …I just can’t get it out of my mind. Would you go?
“How mu” Simagi’s sentence is interrupted by a strong kick to the shin by Tier.
“We’d be glad to priestess.” Tier says with a smile. Dulgar, and Simagi glare across the table at him but the big man flexes his shoulders and ignores them.
“Tell me, what does your Kemp look like?”
“About my height with brown hair and eyes. He has light skin and talks with a Northern Accent. He’s 20 just last month.”
“Great, We can leave tomorrow” Across the table jaws drop and hands are waved in silent protest.
“I knew you would help me. Madriel’s blessing be upon you” The old woman rises to her feat and makes a hand sign, connecting pinky and ring finger. Some unintelligible words are muttered and everyone at the table feels a little lighter. The effects of a long night of drinking seem to ease and if but for a few moments, their minds find contentment.
The old women smiles and give them a nod before turning and making her serene exit through the bustling crowd.
“Waste of a half dozen good mugs that was” The cantankerous dwarf mumbles
“And what was you giving away our services? We’re not exactly swimming in gold over here” Simagi demands, looking dangerously close to slamming his fist on the table”
“I won’t charge an old woman who’s just concerned for her student. A holy one at that. And besides, how much money do you think she has to pay us after she builds a temple? The duke has promised us enough to live well for a year just as soon as we get back. I need to get out of this city in any event. Walls around me for to long and I go nuts. We’ve got three more weeks until the council has his damned gift ready and I don’t intend to stay here and wait. You’re all free to stay but I’d appreciate your help. And if we manage to find trouble we’ll probably make a little profit anyway. Tiere looks each of his friends in the eye before rising. It’s getting late…. I’m heading back to the palace; I suggest that anyone who is joining me tomorrow do the same.
With Tiere gone, Coop breaks the silence.
“He’s right you know. I saw her purse on the way in (he had asked me) her purse looked practically empty.
The amateur bard drains the last of his mug and follows Tiere out of the door.
Dawn find the heroes mounted outside the city gates.
Despite their differences, each one of them has had a killing stroke blocked or a enemy fought off by Tiere to many times to ignore a reguest like that. And besides , he’s right. Their search for the bandit Ironcrow, one time friend, had been fruitless. Everyone is surprised to see Dulgar (who no one had seen return to the palace last night) ride out on his little battered pony, reeking of spirits.
Reufar, the huge warhorse looks none to happy about the saddle strapped to his back. Its huge saucer eyes regard Tiere as if he means them to bore holes through the barbarian.
“Sure you’ve got that thing broken?” Tempest asks?
“ I don’t think its possible to break this horse. The best you can hope for is to make friends and hope he doesn’t kill you” The horse flicks its head as if you say…”damn right”
The party departs down the dirt road soon after. Following the directions they got earlier they manage to find the right branch that should take them straight to the valley Bellhold is located in.
At every bump and ditch (and at every other point he has a reason to do so) Dulgar swears and curses enough to match several lifetimes of cursing for most men.
“Think we should put him out of his misery?” Simagi wispers to Coop at one point
“I would but his ghost would probably just come back to curse at me. We’d trade a live cursing dwarf for a dead cursing dwarf that has no need to sleep and be quiet for awhile. I say we stick with the lesser of two evils”
Both men break out in suppressed giggles to the ire of the dwarf who overheard every word.
Eventually the party emerges from a shaded forest pass through the mountains into a wide valley, which has soil of a deep pleasant red color. Long grass sways in the strong breeze along with fields of wheat farther off. In the distance a herd of horses gallops across the backdrop of a mountain closer than the rest of the chain.
*END OF FIRST SESSION *
