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drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour - Book II: Inheritance
- Thread starter drnuncheon
- Start date
Thorntangle
First Post
Di'Fier's father dead? Tell me it can't be so.
Great update again. You never disappoint, Doc.
Great update again. You never disappoint, Doc.
drnuncheon
Explorer
Session Nine, Part Two: Reunions
"Di'Fier." Jemis' voice was flat and emotionless as he nodded towards the approaching figure - and then turned and pushed away through the crowd.
Dru stopped in front of her former partner, hesitated. "I have to talk to you. I think I know what's going on."
Di'Fier glanced around at the throng, pushing his way through to a side street with Dru right behind him. Turning to face her, he could see her reluctance, and a clammy wave of dread washed over him. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
"They got the girl back. Your father wanted me to tell you. They burst in and took her. He's..." Di'Fier could read the truth in her eyes, and she couldn't even make the best of it. "...stable. I sent your mother to him." She gave him a minute to digest the information, then asked, "What girl?"
"Vikki Tarjay," murmured the mage. "She was with Nifur Roberts the night she was kidnapped." Then he was pushing past Dru, all other thoughts forgotten.
"Wait!" she called after him. "We need to meet again!"
He didn't stop moving - just shouted, "Nightfall - Black Rose!" over his shoulder and was gone.
Dru mounted the stairs, climbing to the balcony at the back of the small house in the kesir. It had been years - no, a decade or more - since she had last been here.
The door opened after her knock, and the elven woman behind it let out a gasp of surprise. "Drusilia!"
Dru smiled. "Nilia. I hoped that you were still living here."
As they entered the flat, Dru couldn't help but notice the changes that age was beginning to make in her teacher. For once, she wished she could see with human eyes - to them, ignorant as they were, the elves seemed ageless, and Dru and Nilia might have been sisters instead of being of an age to be mother and daughter. But for someone who knew the signs...
Nilia turned from placing the kettle over the fire, and looked over her former pupil. One long finger reached out to trace the scar along Dru's cheek, and she tsk'ed. "I hope that not all of my lessons in deportment were forgotten."
"Not forgotten, Nilia," Dru assured her. After a moment, she admitted, "Maybe less used..." Seizing the opportunity to change the subject, she asked, "Are you familiar with the Dragon's Claw?"
"I've heard of them." Nilia turned from where she was adding herbs to the kettle, to regard Dru with a curious glance. "Is that what brings you to me?"
Dru nodded. "They're here, and they've been attacking Papa. And the rest of the underworld, too," she added belatedly.
"Dru...I'm no warrior. Perhaps I could help if you wanted to seduce one of them, but I somehow doubt that is what you have in mind."
"I was hoping for advice on subtle tactics."
The older elf turned to look at Dru, cocking her head to one side. "Your father is the master of subtle tactics. I could tell you how to handle one man...not an entire organization." As the kettle began to steam, she took it from the coals and poured its contents into a pair of cups.
Dru sighed, taking one from her. "I just feel out of my depth. They're here, they're somewhere in Scurvytown, and nobody knows where - and I haven't got the first idea where to look." Maybe we can just burn the entire neighborhood to the ground?
Nilia pursed her lips, sitting down and motioning Dru to do the same. "Scurvytown," she repeated, closing her eyes to picture the place. Slowly, she opened them again, and smiled. "Very brave. The last crimelord to try to take Scurvytown was killed in broad daylight in the middle of Dreaming Street...and yet, somehow there were no witnesses." She breathed in the aromatic vapors of the tea, and sighed. "Dreaming Street...no-one can tell you better than I, Drusilia: men talk while they are in bed...and I very much doubt that these men are abstaining."
"I should have moved her earlier."
Eleanor, Magus of the Fifth Circle, looked across the cottage's main room at her son. She could see her father's temper in him, and his father's stubbornness, and the family's magical talent - all focused inward in a blaze of self-recrimination. "You didn't know," she said softly, crossing the room to rest a hand on his shoulder. "None of us knew. I should have put more protections on the house. We all thought that she was safe because nobody knew she was here."
"Two nights ago, I changed myself to look like her," her son began, voice dull with shock. "They probably put two and two together. How is he?"
"He's..." She hesitated. "He looks worse than he is."
Di'Fier nodded, and headed into the bedroom, kneeling by the side of the bed. He took his father's hand into his own, feeling the remnants of the calluses built up from long years of swordplay - and worn away by years of retirement. "Father," he said. "I'm sorry."
His father's eyes opened, and his hand squeezed Di'Fier's. But it was a pale shadow of the strength that used to be there, and both of them knew it. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to stop them." His eyes closed again, and he let out a long breath. "They did not hurt her, that I saw."
They sat in silence for a moment longer, before the old man slowly pulled his hand away, and lifted his head to look at his son. "Find her."
Di'Fier nodded, and straightened, turning towards his mother, who watched from the doorway. "Mother...the Council has decided to vote on the succession law tomorrow. I think we must mobilize the Guild. Tonight is one of our last chances, and we may need all the help we can get."
"Di'Fier." Jemis' voice was flat and emotionless as he nodded towards the approaching figure - and then turned and pushed away through the crowd.
Dru stopped in front of her former partner, hesitated. "I have to talk to you. I think I know what's going on."
Di'Fier glanced around at the throng, pushing his way through to a side street with Dru right behind him. Turning to face her, he could see her reluctance, and a clammy wave of dread washed over him. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
"They got the girl back. Your father wanted me to tell you. They burst in and took her. He's..." Di'Fier could read the truth in her eyes, and she couldn't even make the best of it. "...stable. I sent your mother to him." She gave him a minute to digest the information, then asked, "What girl?"
"Vikki Tarjay," murmured the mage. "She was with Nifur Roberts the night she was kidnapped." Then he was pushing past Dru, all other thoughts forgotten.
"Wait!" she called after him. "We need to meet again!"
He didn't stop moving - just shouted, "Nightfall - Black Rose!" over his shoulder and was gone.
Dru mounted the stairs, climbing to the balcony at the back of the small house in the kesir. It had been years - no, a decade or more - since she had last been here.
The door opened after her knock, and the elven woman behind it let out a gasp of surprise. "Drusilia!"
Dru smiled. "Nilia. I hoped that you were still living here."
As they entered the flat, Dru couldn't help but notice the changes that age was beginning to make in her teacher. For once, she wished she could see with human eyes - to them, ignorant as they were, the elves seemed ageless, and Dru and Nilia might have been sisters instead of being of an age to be mother and daughter. But for someone who knew the signs...
Nilia turned from placing the kettle over the fire, and looked over her former pupil. One long finger reached out to trace the scar along Dru's cheek, and she tsk'ed. "I hope that not all of my lessons in deportment were forgotten."
"Not forgotten, Nilia," Dru assured her. After a moment, she admitted, "Maybe less used..." Seizing the opportunity to change the subject, she asked, "Are you familiar with the Dragon's Claw?"
"I've heard of them." Nilia turned from where she was adding herbs to the kettle, to regard Dru with a curious glance. "Is that what brings you to me?"
Dru nodded. "They're here, and they've been attacking Papa. And the rest of the underworld, too," she added belatedly.
"Dru...I'm no warrior. Perhaps I could help if you wanted to seduce one of them, but I somehow doubt that is what you have in mind."
"I was hoping for advice on subtle tactics."
The older elf turned to look at Dru, cocking her head to one side. "Your father is the master of subtle tactics. I could tell you how to handle one man...not an entire organization." As the kettle began to steam, she took it from the coals and poured its contents into a pair of cups.
Dru sighed, taking one from her. "I just feel out of my depth. They're here, they're somewhere in Scurvytown, and nobody knows where - and I haven't got the first idea where to look." Maybe we can just burn the entire neighborhood to the ground?
Nilia pursed her lips, sitting down and motioning Dru to do the same. "Scurvytown," she repeated, closing her eyes to picture the place. Slowly, she opened them again, and smiled. "Very brave. The last crimelord to try to take Scurvytown was killed in broad daylight in the middle of Dreaming Street...and yet, somehow there were no witnesses." She breathed in the aromatic vapors of the tea, and sighed. "Dreaming Street...no-one can tell you better than I, Drusilia: men talk while they are in bed...and I very much doubt that these men are abstaining."
"I should have moved her earlier."
Eleanor, Magus of the Fifth Circle, looked across the cottage's main room at her son. She could see her father's temper in him, and his father's stubbornness, and the family's magical talent - all focused inward in a blaze of self-recrimination. "You didn't know," she said softly, crossing the room to rest a hand on his shoulder. "None of us knew. I should have put more protections on the house. We all thought that she was safe because nobody knew she was here."
"Two nights ago, I changed myself to look like her," her son began, voice dull with shock. "They probably put two and two together. How is he?"
"He's..." She hesitated. "He looks worse than he is."
Di'Fier nodded, and headed into the bedroom, kneeling by the side of the bed. He took his father's hand into his own, feeling the remnants of the calluses built up from long years of swordplay - and worn away by years of retirement. "Father," he said. "I'm sorry."
His father's eyes opened, and his hand squeezed Di'Fier's. But it was a pale shadow of the strength that used to be there, and both of them knew it. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to stop them." His eyes closed again, and he let out a long breath. "They did not hurt her, that I saw."
They sat in silence for a moment longer, before the old man slowly pulled his hand away, and lifted his head to look at his son. "Find her."
Di'Fier nodded, and straightened, turning towards his mother, who watched from the doorway. "Mother...the Council has decided to vote on the succession law tomorrow. I think we must mobilize the Guild. Tonight is one of our last chances, and we may need all the help we can get."
Jon Potter
First Post
On page two?
Not on my watch!
Not on my watch!
drnuncheon
Explorer
Session Nine, Part Three: Coral's Story
Coral looked up at the two elves. Usually they didn't come down to Dreaming Street for this sort of thing - they preferred to stay with their own kind. She tugged her blouse tighter against her small frame, and tried to make her chest appear larger than what her thirteen years had given her. She licked her lips - a nervous habit - and said, "It'll cost extra for both of you."
The elves exchanged glances, and then the woman leaned forward, the scar along her cheek gleaming pale in the lamplight. "How much?"
They probably don't know, especially if they're used to what they charge in the kesir..."Ten gold," she said, then caught her breath, hoping that they would not object.
A smile spread across the elf's face. "Fine."
They followed her up to the dingy little room above the tavern. The bed was hardly going to be big enough for the three of them - maybe one of them just wanted to watch? Or maybe they'd take turns. She began pulling her blouse free off her skirts when the female's voice behind her said, "That won't be necessary."
She turned to look at the pair of them, suddenly frightened, her eyes drawn to the woman's blade, and the axes slung at the man's sides. What if they're the heart thieves? she thought. A pair of shining coins clinked onto the dresser. But that's not silver...
"That was ten gold each, right?" the woman said. "We just want to talk for a little bit. Ask you about some strange things that have been happening around here lately."
Coral let herself sink down to sit on the bed, her eyes darting between the elves and the coins. The man was leaning against the door, casually, but his hands were resting near those axes. The woman sat in the rickety chair and watched her. "Have there been any unusual customers lately?"
Something about the way she said it made Coral afraid. Not for herself, just at the sheer cold malice that the tone promised for whoever these customers were. "J-Jedda - she's my friend - she had some," she stammered. "She got hurt by one of them." How much of this would they believe? "A woman with, with cold claws. A foreigner. She...she got off on cutting her."
She watched the two elves exchange another pair of silent glances, and then the woman spoke again. "I think I'd like to meet this Jedda."
They were going to come back...and that meant more money! "She'll be working tonight," Coral said hopefully. "I could tell her you wanted to meet her."
"That would be just fine."
Coral licked her lips again, and took a deep breath. "Are you sure you don't want anything else?"
They hesitated, and she added, "I've...never had an elf before."
The elves shook their heads and turned to go, and Coral scooped up the coins, waiting for them to leave before hiding them away. She hesitated, then plucked out some of her hoarded silver to give to the bartender. He'd never know what they gave her...but she'd have to find somehow to change the coins. Twenty gold! She could live like a princess!
Smug. "It's about time. Are you ready to let me go?"
Matter-of-fact. "I think we held on too long."
Nervous. "W-why?"
Cold. "Your friends attacked my father."
Desperate. "I wasn't there! I didn't have anything to do with it!"
Softly. "You're the only one I've got."
Resigned. "I-I'll talk."
"...and they gave me platinum. Platinum!" Coral whispered to her friend. "They didn't even want to do anything, just ask questions. I bet they pay you, too."
"You're lying to me, Coral, nobody's going to pay us that much just to talk," Jedda shot back.
The door opened, and a pair of men walked in. Jedda flinched involuntarily when she saw their faces, and one of them turned a wicked grin on the girls. She could see them talking to the bartender, and pointing over at their table. The fat man dropped a greasy rag on the bar, and picked his way over to them.
"Private party," he grunted. "They want both of you."
Jedda was pale, and Coral bit her lip. Those are the guys who took her to see the cold-claw woman... "We can't go," she said. "We'd be there all night."
"That's right, and they're payin' for it. Now get."
All Coral could think about were the silvery coins she'd been given earlier. "But...the elves said they'd be back, and they'd want me again, and Jedda too."
A snort. "With what they paid? You'll get five times as much working this party, and you won't turn that many tricks tonight if you stay." His eyes narrowed, and he grabbed her by the arm. His breath was hot and foul on her face. "You ain't holding out on me, are you?"
"Don't mark them up," one of the men called. "Jallarzi doesn't like it when someone else does that."
Jedda tensed, but the barkeep took a step around the table and grabbed her before she could bolt, hauling her to her feet and dragging her across the room to the waiting men. A stack of coins lay on the counter, and Coral knew she'd be lucky to see any of it, even if she survived the night.
"I will do everything in my power to protect her, Kennic."
"Ellerand...this organization is not about making money for Tensin." A pause. "It is about keeping her safe."
"The ring..."
How many had it been? Five? Six? They were certainly getting their money's worth. Maybe if she could keep them all happy they wouldn't turn her over to that Jallarzi woman.
Coral could hear a shout from outside: "They're coming in! Both floors!" Then the weight lifted off of her as the man rose up and fumbled with his pants, finally just discarding them and grabbing instead for the loaded crossbow set by the door. Coral watched in silence as he gestured and chanted, and a shimmering disc blurred into existence in front of him.
The shouts were louder, and she could hear steel on steel: a sound familiar to anyone who'd lived in Scurvytown. The man yanked open the door, the bolt leaping from his crossbow just before six inches of slender steel emerged from his back, and he crumpled to the ground.
She grabbed the blanket like it was a shield, knowing it wouldn't hide or protect her - but the face that looked in was the scarred elven woman from that afternoon. The elf scanned the room for anyone else, barely registering Coral's presence, and was gone.
The shouts continued, and then fell silent. She could hear voices. Slowly, she uncurled from the bed, creeping forward towards the light streaming in from the door. Her hand landed in something warm and sticky, and she struggled to not look down as she crawled forward to look into the other room.
The elven woman was there, and her friend. There was a little guy she thought she recognized too, a smuggler or something. A giant man with a hammer and a Watchman's badge stood at the hallway door, and an armored but unarmed woman stood beside him. A couple of the men she'd been with were still standing, more were unmoving on the floor - and then there was Jallarzi.
Claws of inky black shadow oozed from her arms, stretching out across the room to grasp the throats of two bound girls - dressed in men's clothes. Two more trembled in terror next to them. The sorceress smiled at the elves. "Drop your weapons and surrender."
The scarred elf's voice was flat. "No."
The claws started to tighten.
The elf's sword was a flash of silver as she leapt forward over the blade of one of the thugs, the edge slashing through the shadow-stuff and then reversing to send the point slamming home beneath Jallarzi's breastbone to emerge from her collar. The sorceress was lifted to her toes by the force of the blow, and then her weight sagged. In short order her companions joined her in death.
The bound girls were freed, and the entire bizarre assemblage thundered downstairs, leaving Coral alone, kneeling in a pool of congealing blood, wondering what had just happened, and whether Jedda was all right.
Then the shouting resumed outside, and Coral rushed to the window. In the street below she could see even more Watchmen, and a single hooded and cloaked figure holding a rapier on the street behind them. One of the girls was lying on the ground.
Coral could barely follow the action. A sphere of flame launched itself towards the cloaked figure, with the axe-weilding elf charging in its wake, only to be slammed to the ground by the man's blade. A Watchman wielding an enormous sword stepped forward and gestured, and she could see a column of force slam into the attacker like a battering ram, forcing him back.
The hooded man stretched out his hand, and something flew from it, to explode in a ball of vile green that enveloped him and most of the Watchmen. When it dissipated, only two were left standing.
Steam rose from the Watchman as the acid burned away at him, but the hooded mage was unharmed. He stooped down to grasp the elf by the throat, lifting him from the street, and then vanished.
"Captain Roberts."
"Thank you for saving my daughter, Watch-Lieutenant."
"Now that she's safe - what did they ask you for?"
"It wasn't money - they want control of the city."
"We'd figured that out. They have a Drac candidate that they want to put on the Sea Lord's Throne."
"...no - they wanted me to vote to repeal the law."
Dru crept through the darkened streets of the kesir. With Ellerand's capture, this made the second time they'd had to pick up their operations and move them. Fortunately, the Naïlo organization traveled light.
But there was one thing that she needed, from the house that had been abandoned after Ivellimor's disastrous raid. She wasn't about to leave it behind, not after paying for it in blood.
The house stood silent and dark - but a window next to the back door was broken, the shutter hanging from a single hinge. Looks like someone's already been here. I'll have to be careful.
Disdaining the door, she slipped in the window herself. The furniture was all present. In fact, the house didn't seem to have been ransacked at all. Strange. What did the intruders want, then? She let her feet carry her cautiously down the hall to the room she had used.
The door was ajar, and she could see a flickering light from inside.
I'm getting tired of finding doors like this, Dru grumbled to herself, moving forward, silent as a shadow, one hand on the hilt of her blade, peering through the half-open door.
The Jade Serpent sat in the center of her room, surrounded by candles. A hammered copper bowl in front of it held the corpse of a dead rat, and the scent of incense hung in the air. Five serpentine figures turned to look at the door.
And bowed.
- End of Session Nine -
Coral looked up at the two elves. Usually they didn't come down to Dreaming Street for this sort of thing - they preferred to stay with their own kind. She tugged her blouse tighter against her small frame, and tried to make her chest appear larger than what her thirteen years had given her. She licked her lips - a nervous habit - and said, "It'll cost extra for both of you."
The elves exchanged glances, and then the woman leaned forward, the scar along her cheek gleaming pale in the lamplight. "How much?"
They probably don't know, especially if they're used to what they charge in the kesir..."Ten gold," she said, then caught her breath, hoping that they would not object.
A smile spread across the elf's face. "Fine."
They followed her up to the dingy little room above the tavern. The bed was hardly going to be big enough for the three of them - maybe one of them just wanted to watch? Or maybe they'd take turns. She began pulling her blouse free off her skirts when the female's voice behind her said, "That won't be necessary."
She turned to look at the pair of them, suddenly frightened, her eyes drawn to the woman's blade, and the axes slung at the man's sides. What if they're the heart thieves? she thought. A pair of shining coins clinked onto the dresser. But that's not silver...
"That was ten gold each, right?" the woman said. "We just want to talk for a little bit. Ask you about some strange things that have been happening around here lately."
Coral let herself sink down to sit on the bed, her eyes darting between the elves and the coins. The man was leaning against the door, casually, but his hands were resting near those axes. The woman sat in the rickety chair and watched her. "Have there been any unusual customers lately?"
Something about the way she said it made Coral afraid. Not for herself, just at the sheer cold malice that the tone promised for whoever these customers were. "J-Jedda - she's my friend - she had some," she stammered. "She got hurt by one of them." How much of this would they believe? "A woman with, with cold claws. A foreigner. She...she got off on cutting her."
She watched the two elves exchange another pair of silent glances, and then the woman spoke again. "I think I'd like to meet this Jedda."
They were going to come back...and that meant more money! "She'll be working tonight," Coral said hopefully. "I could tell her you wanted to meet her."
"That would be just fine."
Coral licked her lips again, and took a deep breath. "Are you sure you don't want anything else?"
They hesitated, and she added, "I've...never had an elf before."
The elves shook their heads and turned to go, and Coral scooped up the coins, waiting for them to leave before hiding them away. She hesitated, then plucked out some of her hoarded silver to give to the bartender. He'd never know what they gave her...but she'd have to find somehow to change the coins. Twenty gold! She could live like a princess!
Smug. "It's about time. Are you ready to let me go?"
Matter-of-fact. "I think we held on too long."
Nervous. "W-why?"
Cold. "Your friends attacked my father."
Desperate. "I wasn't there! I didn't have anything to do with it!"
Softly. "You're the only one I've got."
Resigned. "I-I'll talk."
"...and they gave me platinum. Platinum!" Coral whispered to her friend. "They didn't even want to do anything, just ask questions. I bet they pay you, too."
"You're lying to me, Coral, nobody's going to pay us that much just to talk," Jedda shot back.
The door opened, and a pair of men walked in. Jedda flinched involuntarily when she saw their faces, and one of them turned a wicked grin on the girls. She could see them talking to the bartender, and pointing over at their table. The fat man dropped a greasy rag on the bar, and picked his way over to them.
"Private party," he grunted. "They want both of you."
Jedda was pale, and Coral bit her lip. Those are the guys who took her to see the cold-claw woman... "We can't go," she said. "We'd be there all night."
"That's right, and they're payin' for it. Now get."
All Coral could think about were the silvery coins she'd been given earlier. "But...the elves said they'd be back, and they'd want me again, and Jedda too."
A snort. "With what they paid? You'll get five times as much working this party, and you won't turn that many tricks tonight if you stay." His eyes narrowed, and he grabbed her by the arm. His breath was hot and foul on her face. "You ain't holding out on me, are you?"
"Don't mark them up," one of the men called. "Jallarzi doesn't like it when someone else does that."
Jedda tensed, but the barkeep took a step around the table and grabbed her before she could bolt, hauling her to her feet and dragging her across the room to the waiting men. A stack of coins lay on the counter, and Coral knew she'd be lucky to see any of it, even if she survived the night.
"I will do everything in my power to protect her, Kennic."
"Ellerand...this organization is not about making money for Tensin." A pause. "It is about keeping her safe."
"The ring..."
How many had it been? Five? Six? They were certainly getting their money's worth. Maybe if she could keep them all happy they wouldn't turn her over to that Jallarzi woman.
Coral could hear a shout from outside: "They're coming in! Both floors!" Then the weight lifted off of her as the man rose up and fumbled with his pants, finally just discarding them and grabbing instead for the loaded crossbow set by the door. Coral watched in silence as he gestured and chanted, and a shimmering disc blurred into existence in front of him.
The shouts were louder, and she could hear steel on steel: a sound familiar to anyone who'd lived in Scurvytown. The man yanked open the door, the bolt leaping from his crossbow just before six inches of slender steel emerged from his back, and he crumpled to the ground.
She grabbed the blanket like it was a shield, knowing it wouldn't hide or protect her - but the face that looked in was the scarred elven woman from that afternoon. The elf scanned the room for anyone else, barely registering Coral's presence, and was gone.
The shouts continued, and then fell silent. She could hear voices. Slowly, she uncurled from the bed, creeping forward towards the light streaming in from the door. Her hand landed in something warm and sticky, and she struggled to not look down as she crawled forward to look into the other room.
The elven woman was there, and her friend. There was a little guy she thought she recognized too, a smuggler or something. A giant man with a hammer and a Watchman's badge stood at the hallway door, and an armored but unarmed woman stood beside him. A couple of the men she'd been with were still standing, more were unmoving on the floor - and then there was Jallarzi.
Claws of inky black shadow oozed from her arms, stretching out across the room to grasp the throats of two bound girls - dressed in men's clothes. Two more trembled in terror next to them. The sorceress smiled at the elves. "Drop your weapons and surrender."
The scarred elf's voice was flat. "No."
The claws started to tighten.
The elf's sword was a flash of silver as she leapt forward over the blade of one of the thugs, the edge slashing through the shadow-stuff and then reversing to send the point slamming home beneath Jallarzi's breastbone to emerge from her collar. The sorceress was lifted to her toes by the force of the blow, and then her weight sagged. In short order her companions joined her in death.
The bound girls were freed, and the entire bizarre assemblage thundered downstairs, leaving Coral alone, kneeling in a pool of congealing blood, wondering what had just happened, and whether Jedda was all right.
Then the shouting resumed outside, and Coral rushed to the window. In the street below she could see even more Watchmen, and a single hooded and cloaked figure holding a rapier on the street behind them. One of the girls was lying on the ground.
Coral could barely follow the action. A sphere of flame launched itself towards the cloaked figure, with the axe-weilding elf charging in its wake, only to be slammed to the ground by the man's blade. A Watchman wielding an enormous sword stepped forward and gestured, and she could see a column of force slam into the attacker like a battering ram, forcing him back.
The hooded man stretched out his hand, and something flew from it, to explode in a ball of vile green that enveloped him and most of the Watchmen. When it dissipated, only two were left standing.
Steam rose from the Watchman as the acid burned away at him, but the hooded mage was unharmed. He stooped down to grasp the elf by the throat, lifting him from the street, and then vanished.
"Captain Roberts."
"Thank you for saving my daughter, Watch-Lieutenant."
"Now that she's safe - what did they ask you for?"
"It wasn't money - they want control of the city."
"We'd figured that out. They have a Drac candidate that they want to put on the Sea Lord's Throne."
"...no - they wanted me to vote to repeal the law."
Dru crept through the darkened streets of the kesir. With Ellerand's capture, this made the second time they'd had to pick up their operations and move them. Fortunately, the Naïlo organization traveled light.
But there was one thing that she needed, from the house that had been abandoned after Ivellimor's disastrous raid. She wasn't about to leave it behind, not after paying for it in blood.
The house stood silent and dark - but a window next to the back door was broken, the shutter hanging from a single hinge. Looks like someone's already been here. I'll have to be careful.
Disdaining the door, she slipped in the window herself. The furniture was all present. In fact, the house didn't seem to have been ransacked at all. Strange. What did the intruders want, then? She let her feet carry her cautiously down the hall to the room she had used.
The door was ajar, and she could see a flickering light from inside.
I'm getting tired of finding doors like this, Dru grumbled to herself, moving forward, silent as a shadow, one hand on the hilt of her blade, peering through the half-open door.
The Jade Serpent sat in the center of her room, surrounded by candles. A hammered copper bowl in front of it held the corpse of a dead rat, and the scent of incense hung in the air. Five serpentine figures turned to look at the door.
And bowed.
- End of Session Nine -
Last edited:
Jon Potter
First Post
WOW!!
Now THAT was a great update.
You nicely captured the slimy nature of Dreaming Street and I love the recurring importance of the Jade Serpent. Although it was a hoot seeing a millenia-old artifact being used as a doorstop, you had to know it wouldn't remain unnoticed forever.
Now THAT was a great update.
You nicely captured the slimy nature of Dreaming Street and I love the recurring importance of the Jade Serpent. Although it was a hoot seeing a millenia-old artifact being used as a doorstop, you had to know it wouldn't remain unnoticed forever.
