drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour - Book II: Inheritance
- Thread starter drnuncheon
- Start date
drnuncheon
Explorer
Session Twenty-Five, Part One: Prelude to a Duel
The crowd shifted impatiently, jockeying for position as they waited. Despite the press of elven bodies, the tiny courtyard in the kesir was clear, at least to the borders of the circle chalked inside it.
Voices rose, and the crowd began to part before the line of cloaked and hooded shapes, spears clutched in their gloved hands, that preceded a small knot of elves. Occasionally, a careless tail would lash from under the darkness of the cloak and vanish. What are they? the crowd wondered.
At the edge of the circle stood a tall human, the only one present. The weathered sword slung over his shoulder and the ease with which he moved was enough to convince the rest of the crowd not to object to his presence, or the way he threaded through them to approach the newly arrived group.
"Everything's ready," he said. Then, in a lower voice, "If there's magic around, try to get...near...me." He slowed, puzzled, then went on ina more deliberate fashion. "I'll bet with all these crowds around, you almost feel like a jongleur."
Dru paced impatiently. Kennic was sure that the people he'd contacted could be trusted...but where were they? If she was going to take the kesir back from Amalyth, she'd need all the help she could get...
The door shuddered under a pounding fist, and Kennic moved to look through the peephole. Then he threw it open, admitting the burly form of Jalen, who crossed the room and grappled Dru with a crow of delight.
"You're back!" he said as he released her. "You'll soon put her and my idiot son to rights."
Dru breathed in. "Alust may be more loyal than you think," she said. "He's the one who got me to Kennic in the first place."
The other arrived: haughty, seemingly impervious to the cold stares of the people of the kesir. Somehow, even with the elven blood in her veins, she seemed more out of place than the human that stood a head above anyone else in the crowd. She was flanked by two elves - one in black, a rapier at his side, and the other in the traditional robes of a Magus. Behind her, a group of mixed toughs, elven and half-human.
Dru saw Alust turn away, refusing to meet his father's glare. "Shesara," she said.
The bard moved out into the center of the circle, and raised her arms for silence. Dru let her gaze wander out over Amalyth's supporters, picking out a familiar face here and there...
"This establishment is closed."
There was silence in the room as elves and half-humans stared up at her, dice and cards still in their hands, regarding the naked blade in her hand, the set of her jaw, the scar on her face.
She felt rather than saw the door guard move for his blade, and she spun, her rapier piercing him, nailing him to the wall. He slumped bonelessly as she withdrew it.
"Amalyth no longer has permission to operate in this city." The rapier swept to cover the other door guard, a half-human. "You will convey that to her." Looking out across the small knot of gamblers, her eyes narrowed. "Go," she ordered.
"I present to you, Drusilia Naïlo, true daughter of Tensin Naïlo, who is here to claim what is rightfully hers from the half human pretender, Amalyth. She comes with those that are loyal to her, and to her father's name."
Dru let Shesara's voice wash over her, ignoring the words. She looked across the circle at her half-sister. I wish I could not see Papa's face in hers. Papa's face, true, but twisted with scorn, bitterness, and hatred.
Did she expect the bard? Will she have someone to speak for her? The less elven I make her seem, the more the watchers will support me. Her eyes swept over the impassive crowd as Shesara declared the grievances against Amalyth: faces she had known since childhood. Would they support her? Or had one of Tensin's daughters poisoned them against the other? If only Papa were here...
"These are the elven names that I found - the ones that took ship during the two-week period your father and Galanodel left in."
It was strange, hearing Di'Fier's voice coming from the mouth of an elf - strange, but necessary. It wouldn't do for a Watch-Lieutenant to be seen with one who aspired to head the Naïlo organization. Even if they had been partners for years.
Di'Fier pushed the paper across the table to Dru and Shesara, who regarded it with interest.
"I doubt he's disguised himself as a woman," Dru said.
"I wanted to be complete."
Shesara's brow furrowed as she studied the paper. "Silathenial?" she said, pointing to a name: Aust of Silathenial.
"Mountain-home," Di'fier said. "Sounds more dwarven than elven."
"It's a myth. A legend...old enough that the original songs about it have been forgotten. It's mentioned in some of the oldest tales I know. A city underground, a city of elves and dwarves. 'Searching for Silathenial' is an old expression for a fruitless quest."
"Silathenial," Dru said. "If it does exist, it must be shielded from magic somehow...and I'll bet it's where Papa thinks I am."
Shesara lowered her hands, stepping back to the side of the circle. There was a pregnant pause, before Amalyth herself stepped forward, her grey eyes flashing.
"You have heard what my half-sister has to say," she began. "I reject those accusations. I fling them in the face of the one who walked away from her father, who abandoned him and the kesir in favor of the Guard." She stepped to her circle, her blades sliding into her hand, their edges catching the light. "I fought for my position while she walked away from it...and I will fight for it again."
Di'Fier leaned in to Dru. "I've checked her out. She's not using any magical items. You should be OK."
Dru nodded, unbuckled the belt of her rapier, and handed it to him. "Kennic," she said, her hand outstretched.
The older elf placed another blade in her palm.
Dru ran her thumb over the blunted practice blade, made sure the cap was firmly attached to its tip. With a mocking half-smile, she raised the blade in a salute, and stepped forward into the ring.
The crowd shifted impatiently, jockeying for position as they waited. Despite the press of elven bodies, the tiny courtyard in the kesir was clear, at least to the borders of the circle chalked inside it.
Voices rose, and the crowd began to part before the line of cloaked and hooded shapes, spears clutched in their gloved hands, that preceded a small knot of elves. Occasionally, a careless tail would lash from under the darkness of the cloak and vanish. What are they? the crowd wondered.
At the edge of the circle stood a tall human, the only one present. The weathered sword slung over his shoulder and the ease with which he moved was enough to convince the rest of the crowd not to object to his presence, or the way he threaded through them to approach the newly arrived group.
"Everything's ready," he said. Then, in a lower voice, "If there's magic around, try to get...near...me." He slowed, puzzled, then went on ina more deliberate fashion. "I'll bet with all these crowds around, you almost feel like a jongleur."
Dru paced impatiently. Kennic was sure that the people he'd contacted could be trusted...but where were they? If she was going to take the kesir back from Amalyth, she'd need all the help she could get...
The door shuddered under a pounding fist, and Kennic moved to look through the peephole. Then he threw it open, admitting the burly form of Jalen, who crossed the room and grappled Dru with a crow of delight.
"You're back!" he said as he released her. "You'll soon put her and my idiot son to rights."
Dru breathed in. "Alust may be more loyal than you think," she said. "He's the one who got me to Kennic in the first place."
The other arrived: haughty, seemingly impervious to the cold stares of the people of the kesir. Somehow, even with the elven blood in her veins, she seemed more out of place than the human that stood a head above anyone else in the crowd. She was flanked by two elves - one in black, a rapier at his side, and the other in the traditional robes of a Magus. Behind her, a group of mixed toughs, elven and half-human.
Dru saw Alust turn away, refusing to meet his father's glare. "Shesara," she said.
The bard moved out into the center of the circle, and raised her arms for silence. Dru let her gaze wander out over Amalyth's supporters, picking out a familiar face here and there...
"This establishment is closed."
There was silence in the room as elves and half-humans stared up at her, dice and cards still in their hands, regarding the naked blade in her hand, the set of her jaw, the scar on her face.
She felt rather than saw the door guard move for his blade, and she spun, her rapier piercing him, nailing him to the wall. He slumped bonelessly as she withdrew it.
"Amalyth no longer has permission to operate in this city." The rapier swept to cover the other door guard, a half-human. "You will convey that to her." Looking out across the small knot of gamblers, her eyes narrowed. "Go," she ordered.
"I present to you, Drusilia Naïlo, true daughter of Tensin Naïlo, who is here to claim what is rightfully hers from the half human pretender, Amalyth. She comes with those that are loyal to her, and to her father's name."
Dru let Shesara's voice wash over her, ignoring the words. She looked across the circle at her half-sister. I wish I could not see Papa's face in hers. Papa's face, true, but twisted with scorn, bitterness, and hatred.
Did she expect the bard? Will she have someone to speak for her? The less elven I make her seem, the more the watchers will support me. Her eyes swept over the impassive crowd as Shesara declared the grievances against Amalyth: faces she had known since childhood. Would they support her? Or had one of Tensin's daughters poisoned them against the other? If only Papa were here...
"These are the elven names that I found - the ones that took ship during the two-week period your father and Galanodel left in."
It was strange, hearing Di'Fier's voice coming from the mouth of an elf - strange, but necessary. It wouldn't do for a Watch-Lieutenant to be seen with one who aspired to head the Naïlo organization. Even if they had been partners for years.
Di'Fier pushed the paper across the table to Dru and Shesara, who regarded it with interest.
"I doubt he's disguised himself as a woman," Dru said.
"I wanted to be complete."
Shesara's brow furrowed as she studied the paper. "Silathenial?" she said, pointing to a name: Aust of Silathenial.
"Mountain-home," Di'fier said. "Sounds more dwarven than elven."
"It's a myth. A legend...old enough that the original songs about it have been forgotten. It's mentioned in some of the oldest tales I know. A city underground, a city of elves and dwarves. 'Searching for Silathenial' is an old expression for a fruitless quest."
"Silathenial," Dru said. "If it does exist, it must be shielded from magic somehow...and I'll bet it's where Papa thinks I am."
Shesara lowered her hands, stepping back to the side of the circle. There was a pregnant pause, before Amalyth herself stepped forward, her grey eyes flashing.
"You have heard what my half-sister has to say," she began. "I reject those accusations. I fling them in the face of the one who walked away from her father, who abandoned him and the kesir in favor of the Guard." She stepped to her circle, her blades sliding into her hand, their edges catching the light. "I fought for my position while she walked away from it...and I will fight for it again."
Di'Fier leaned in to Dru. "I've checked her out. She's not using any magical items. You should be OK."
Dru nodded, unbuckled the belt of her rapier, and handed it to him. "Kennic," she said, her hand outstretched.
The older elf placed another blade in her palm.
Dru ran her thumb over the blunted practice blade, made sure the cap was firmly attached to its tip. With a mocking half-smile, she raised the blade in a salute, and stepped forward into the ring.
Last edited:
drnuncheon
Explorer
DiFier said:
The jongleur bit will be explained in a future update. The detect magic part...good point. I'll need to add that in.
J
drnuncheon
Explorer
Re: Session Twenty-Five, Part One: Prelude to a Duel
D'oh. Meant to hit 'edit' not 'quote'.
D'oh. Meant to hit 'edit' not 'quote'.
Last edited:
DiFier
First Post
drnuncheon said:
Hmm, wait, lets see. This weekend was much of the same as last weekend. the running combat continued. now we are even lower on spells. the "kill every enemy with in 6000 feet" scroll didn't work; everyone saved.
With all the combat we've seen lately we are probablly about to level again. Also with the combat game sessions are going slow and Dr. N should be catching up in the story hour.
drnuncheon
Explorer
Session Twenty-Five, Part Two: Unexpected Revelations
The blade flashed across the ring, leaving an all-too familiar line of red across Dru's left arm. Amalyth's supporters erupted in a cheer, and she cursed the loss of her magic buckler as she circled warily. "Be sure not to become too dependent on your toys," Papa had said.
"What's the matter, sister? Lost your stomach for the fight?" The play of the blades in Amalyth's hands was pure Tensin.
"I didn't want to destroy you without evening the odds," Dru replied in the tones of High Elven. "Some people have honor." She moved forward, but Amalyth's blades turned her own aside.
"Honor?" Amalyth's laugh was hollow. "If you had any sense of that you wouldn't be trying to take away what I fought for."
Dru probed her defenses again - no. That second blade let her parry and counter. She needed to do something about it. "You seem to be doing an adequate job of losing it on your own. I suppose one could expect no better from a half-human."
A smirk spread across her half-sister's face. "You think my human blood is a flaw? Look to yourself, sister." She parried Dru's attack and continued. "My mother was as elven as you. I got my human blood from both parents. Why do you think our father hid me away, sister? I was evidence of his own failing, his own deceit. What did he tell you?"
Dru hesitated. She's trying to shake me. She thrust, but that damned second blade turned her rapier, and a line of red opened on her stomach.
"Think about our father, sister. Doesn't he look old for an elf? That's his human blood showing..."
"I've gotten a description of the elven passengers on the ship with this 'Aust of Silathenial'," Di'Fier told them. "This one, Antiphia Laphchas, was a woman. I think we can discount her."
"So that leaves...Laucimol Revanthirasku, and Aust of Silathenial himself."
"Right. And the purser of the ship said that Revanthirasku scared the wits out of him once, like he appeared out of nowhere."
"Galanodel. Meaning that Tensin is Aust, just as we thought."
"That's the problem. Aust isn't elven - at least, not completely. He's a half-elf."
"He'd never do that," Jalen said.
"He sired one," Dru muttered. "Why not disguise himself as one?"
Di'Fier continued. "He was about the right height, but with long brown hair in tight curls, and a goatee. He wore round spectacles, tinted purple, and..."
"...carried a cane, even though he didn't need it to walk," Dru finished.
"You know him?"
A cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows. Upon closer inspection, he was a half human, with long, dark hair. Purple tinted glasses perched on his nose, and he was carrying a cane. It was better than any ordinary cane, Dru noticed, because there was a sharp blade protruding from the end of it. She saw the him look her over, and then look back at Meris. Calmly, he stepped in between them. "Run," he told her, firmly. "Go to safety."
Dru didn't need to be told twice. She heard Meris cry out in pain, and then the clashing of weapons against one another.
"Papa..." she said softly.
Di'Fier stared at the fight. Gods...poor Dru...if her sister's telling the truth...
Movement from across the ring caught his eye - someone was watching him, not the fight. Alust? As Di'Fier watched, the elven mage turned his palm upward. In it was a dagger.
What is he trying to tell me?
Eyes fixed on Di'Fier, Alust passed a cloth handkerchief over the blade, mouthed a word - and Di'Fier understood.
Amalyth smirked as the barb slid home, and moved forward, her daggers weaving a deadly pattern in front of her. Now it will be easy, she thought to herself.
A blade licked out like the tongue of a snake, opening another line of red. She could hear her supporters cheering behind her. You will suffer, sister, for all that you had, all that I ever wanted.
She was unprepared for the savage figure that arose, beating her blades away, the dulled edge of its practice rapier slapping her across the face. Its breath hissed out in a savage warning as it pressed the attack, lines of pain following its every blow.
Amalyth backpedaled. No...I can't let her win...not now.... Desperately she feinted, saw the eyes flick towards the blade. I still have her, she thought, launching herself forward. Her dagger sank deep into Dru's side, and red stained her sister's clothing.
Then the hilt of the rapier was smashing into her face, and she was reeling backwards, blood flowing from her nose. She stumbled, and Dru was upon her, smashing her again and again with a metal-covered fist. Dimly, she heard her blades ringing on the cobbles as she fell to her knees. It wasn't supposed to go like this...
She felt her head yanked back, and saw the gleam of one of her blades in Dru's hand.
Dru let her half-sister crumble to the cobbles, then opened her hand, tossing aside the long locks of hair that had once adorned Amalyth's head. "Whenever you look at yourself, you will remember that I beat you." She thrust the dagger into her belt. "From now on, you will no longer be known as Amalyth, 'beautiful daughter'. You will be Delathin, 'bitter-child'."
Di'Fier was at her side, holding a vial - no, two, one for each combatant. Dru drank hers gratefully, watching the wound on her arm fade to a thin white line that joined the dozens of others. She watched as Di'Fier stooped to pick up the other dagger, turned it over in his hands. "What's wrong?"
In answer, the mage passed his hand over the blade, chanting. There was no obvious effect, but he looked at it with satisfaction. "There was a glamour on the blades," he said. "A spell protecting them from detection. I have dispelled it. I think you'll find if you check them now, they will prove to be magical, not mundane."
Dru looked coldly at the crumpled form of her half-sister, crouched down beside her, lifting her head by the remnants of her shorn hair. "Elves do not slay their kin," she informed Delathin. "A true elf would understand that no matter how much humanblood flowed in their veins." She rose, fixing the small knot of Amalyth's supporters with her glare. "This is what you have chosen to follow. Remember your mistake, because you will not be allowed to repeat it. You have two choices: walk away now, or swear your fealty to me...and through me, to my father."
Di'Fier rested his boots on his desk. The office was every bit as tiny as it had been before, but somehow it felt far too large and empty when he was the only one inside of it.
The SCU had returned, their necromancer dealt with, and for once there was relative peace in the city. I guess I should check out these messages that have been backed up, he thought, pulling the stack over to him.
A knock at the door, and Kiva's head appeared. "Visitor, Lieutenant."
Di'Fier looked up in surprise. "Dru?"
His old partner stepped in, closing the door behind her. She laid a parcel on his desk. "I stopped in to thank you for helping me out with Am...Delathin."
Di'Fier sliced the string with his knife, unfolding the cloth wrapping to expose the silvery links beneath. "Is it...?"
"Mithril. One of Delathin's supporters left it behind - a half-elf. You might need to get it resized."
"It's beautiful," Di'Fier breathed. "But..." He let it sink back to the desk. "I'm still my own person. Not on anyone's payroll."
Dru nodded. "It's a thank you, not a bribe." She hesitated a moment, watching the mage. "Di'Fier...at the duel, why did you ask me about jongleurs?"
Di'Fier raised his head, looking at her for a long time. Finally, he closed his eyes and looked away. "Dru..." he began. "The entire time you've been in this office, you haven't blinked."
The blade flashed across the ring, leaving an all-too familiar line of red across Dru's left arm. Amalyth's supporters erupted in a cheer, and she cursed the loss of her magic buckler as she circled warily. "Be sure not to become too dependent on your toys," Papa had said.
"What's the matter, sister? Lost your stomach for the fight?" The play of the blades in Amalyth's hands was pure Tensin.
"I didn't want to destroy you without evening the odds," Dru replied in the tones of High Elven. "Some people have honor." She moved forward, but Amalyth's blades turned her own aside.
"Honor?" Amalyth's laugh was hollow. "If you had any sense of that you wouldn't be trying to take away what I fought for."
Dru probed her defenses again - no. That second blade let her parry and counter. She needed to do something about it. "You seem to be doing an adequate job of losing it on your own. I suppose one could expect no better from a half-human."
A smirk spread across her half-sister's face. "You think my human blood is a flaw? Look to yourself, sister." She parried Dru's attack and continued. "My mother was as elven as you. I got my human blood from both parents. Why do you think our father hid me away, sister? I was evidence of his own failing, his own deceit. What did he tell you?"
Dru hesitated. She's trying to shake me. She thrust, but that damned second blade turned her rapier, and a line of red opened on her stomach.
"Think about our father, sister. Doesn't he look old for an elf? That's his human blood showing..."
"I've gotten a description of the elven passengers on the ship with this 'Aust of Silathenial'," Di'Fier told them. "This one, Antiphia Laphchas, was a woman. I think we can discount her."
"So that leaves...Laucimol Revanthirasku, and Aust of Silathenial himself."
"Right. And the purser of the ship said that Revanthirasku scared the wits out of him once, like he appeared out of nowhere."
"Galanodel. Meaning that Tensin is Aust, just as we thought."
"That's the problem. Aust isn't elven - at least, not completely. He's a half-elf."
"He'd never do that," Jalen said.
"He sired one," Dru muttered. "Why not disguise himself as one?"
Di'Fier continued. "He was about the right height, but with long brown hair in tight curls, and a goatee. He wore round spectacles, tinted purple, and..."
"...carried a cane, even though he didn't need it to walk," Dru finished.
"You know him?"
A cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows. Upon closer inspection, he was a half human, with long, dark hair. Purple tinted glasses perched on his nose, and he was carrying a cane. It was better than any ordinary cane, Dru noticed, because there was a sharp blade protruding from the end of it. She saw the him look her over, and then look back at Meris. Calmly, he stepped in between them. "Run," he told her, firmly. "Go to safety."
Dru didn't need to be told twice. She heard Meris cry out in pain, and then the clashing of weapons against one another.
"Papa..." she said softly.
Di'Fier stared at the fight. Gods...poor Dru...if her sister's telling the truth...
Movement from across the ring caught his eye - someone was watching him, not the fight. Alust? As Di'Fier watched, the elven mage turned his palm upward. In it was a dagger.
What is he trying to tell me?
Eyes fixed on Di'Fier, Alust passed a cloth handkerchief over the blade, mouthed a word - and Di'Fier understood.
Amalyth smirked as the barb slid home, and moved forward, her daggers weaving a deadly pattern in front of her. Now it will be easy, she thought to herself.
A blade licked out like the tongue of a snake, opening another line of red. She could hear her supporters cheering behind her. You will suffer, sister, for all that you had, all that I ever wanted.
She was unprepared for the savage figure that arose, beating her blades away, the dulled edge of its practice rapier slapping her across the face. Its breath hissed out in a savage warning as it pressed the attack, lines of pain following its every blow.
Amalyth backpedaled. No...I can't let her win...not now.... Desperately she feinted, saw the eyes flick towards the blade. I still have her, she thought, launching herself forward. Her dagger sank deep into Dru's side, and red stained her sister's clothing.
Then the hilt of the rapier was smashing into her face, and she was reeling backwards, blood flowing from her nose. She stumbled, and Dru was upon her, smashing her again and again with a metal-covered fist. Dimly, she heard her blades ringing on the cobbles as she fell to her knees. It wasn't supposed to go like this...
She felt her head yanked back, and saw the gleam of one of her blades in Dru's hand.
Dru let her half-sister crumble to the cobbles, then opened her hand, tossing aside the long locks of hair that had once adorned Amalyth's head. "Whenever you look at yourself, you will remember that I beat you." She thrust the dagger into her belt. "From now on, you will no longer be known as Amalyth, 'beautiful daughter'. You will be Delathin, 'bitter-child'."
Di'Fier was at her side, holding a vial - no, two, one for each combatant. Dru drank hers gratefully, watching the wound on her arm fade to a thin white line that joined the dozens of others. She watched as Di'Fier stooped to pick up the other dagger, turned it over in his hands. "What's wrong?"
In answer, the mage passed his hand over the blade, chanting. There was no obvious effect, but he looked at it with satisfaction. "There was a glamour on the blades," he said. "A spell protecting them from detection. I have dispelled it. I think you'll find if you check them now, they will prove to be magical, not mundane."
Dru looked coldly at the crumpled form of her half-sister, crouched down beside her, lifting her head by the remnants of her shorn hair. "Elves do not slay their kin," she informed Delathin. "A true elf would understand that no matter how much humanblood flowed in their veins." She rose, fixing the small knot of Amalyth's supporters with her glare. "This is what you have chosen to follow. Remember your mistake, because you will not be allowed to repeat it. You have two choices: walk away now, or swear your fealty to me...and through me, to my father."
Di'Fier rested his boots on his desk. The office was every bit as tiny as it had been before, but somehow it felt far too large and empty when he was the only one inside of it.
The SCU had returned, their necromancer dealt with, and for once there was relative peace in the city. I guess I should check out these messages that have been backed up, he thought, pulling the stack over to him.
A knock at the door, and Kiva's head appeared. "Visitor, Lieutenant."
Di'Fier looked up in surprise. "Dru?"
His old partner stepped in, closing the door behind her. She laid a parcel on his desk. "I stopped in to thank you for helping me out with Am...Delathin."
Di'Fier sliced the string with his knife, unfolding the cloth wrapping to expose the silvery links beneath. "Is it...?"
"Mithril. One of Delathin's supporters left it behind - a half-elf. You might need to get it resized."
"It's beautiful," Di'Fier breathed. "But..." He let it sink back to the desk. "I'm still my own person. Not on anyone's payroll."
Dru nodded. "It's a thank you, not a bribe." She hesitated a moment, watching the mage. "Di'Fier...at the duel, why did you ask me about jongleurs?"
Di'Fier raised his head, looking at her for a long time. Finally, he closed his eyes and looked away. "Dru..." he began. "The entire time you've been in this office, you haven't blinked."
Greg Dickens
First Post
Your cliffhangers are getting better for you worse for us. I thought about not posting as to make you angry and post again but thought better of it. Keep up the great work.
Greg Dickens
Greg Dickens
Jon Potter
First Post
Re: Session Twenty-Five, Part Two: Unexpected Revelations
What the heck does THAT mean?
Influence of the Jade Serpent? Some kind of stimulant? Has Dru been replaced with a construct?
At any rate, great lesson-teaching combat in the ring! And, as always, I'm looking forward to more.
drnuncheon said:
What the heck does THAT mean?
Influence of the Jade Serpent? Some kind of stimulant? Has Dru been replaced with a construct?
At any rate, great lesson-teaching combat in the ring! And, as always, I'm looking forward to more.
