Jon Potter
First Post
Drusilia Nailo said:... so you can start bugging DrN for updates again.
How about bugging YOU to finish off your story hour.
I have not forgotten.
drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour - Book II: Inheritance
- Thread starter drnuncheon
- Start date
How about bugging YOU to finish off your story hour.
I have not forgotten.
Drusilia Nailo
First Post
Okay, since DrN isn't updating, I'm going to update for him. Ready? Here goes...
Dru and Di'Fier kicked the bad guys around, and saved Freeport. Afterwards, over ales at the tavern, they accidentally ascended into godhood. They are currently selecting their domains and their followers. The End.
How'd I do?
Dru and Di'Fier kicked the bad guys around, and saved Freeport. Afterwards, over ales at the tavern, they accidentally ascended into godhood. They are currently selecting their domains and their followers. The End.
How'd I do?
drnuncheon
Explorer
Drusilia Nailo said:Okay, since DrN isn't updating, I'm going to update for him. Ready? Here goes...
Dru and Di'Fier kicked the bad guys around, and saved Freeport. Afterwards, over ales at the tavern, they accidentally ascended into godhood. They are currently selecting their domains and their followers. The End.
How'd I do?
Hmm. Batting about .500, actually...
...but which half is true?
I will return to dnFSH, gentle readers - I'm just working on a project with a deadline. (A past due deadline which has been kindly extended!) In the meantime, if you haven't already, go check out drnuncheon's Other Story Hour (dnOSH), which has actually been updated since it doesn't take nearly as long as writing this one...
J
drnuncheon
Explorer
Phew!
I finished off my writing project last night (any readers going to Con-Fusion in British Columbia? Anyone playing Living Arcanis?) and it did not make my editor scream and bleed from the eyes, so all is well. You know what that means...yes, I'm back to the Freeport Story Hour! Finally! And I should have plenty of time to update and then plan for the next session...
...wait...
...what do you mean it's Friday already?!
J
I finished off my writing project last night (any readers going to Con-Fusion in British Columbia? Anyone playing Living Arcanis?) and it did not make my editor scream and bleed from the eyes, so all is well. You know what that means...yes, I'm back to the Freeport Story Hour! Finally! And I should have plenty of time to update and then plan for the next session...
...wait...
...what do you mean it's Friday already?!
J
Thorntangle
First Post
Thank goodness that pesky work is over and we can get back to the real stuff of life. Good to have you back, drnuncheon.
BTW - there is this issue of a fairly large cliffhanger that needs your attention immediately. From one writing assignment right into another. You have Carpal Tunnel Syndrome yet?
BTW - there is this issue of a fairly large cliffhanger that needs your attention immediately. From one writing assignment right into another. You have Carpal Tunnel Syndrome yet?
Zarthon
Explorer
Drusilia Nailo said:Okay, since DrN isn't updating, I'm going to update for him. Ready? Here goes...
Dru and Di'Fier kicked the bad guys around, and saved Freeport. Afterwards, over ales at the tavern, they accidentally ascended into godhood. They are currently selecting their domains and their followers. The End.
How'd I do?
Now that sounds like fun
drnuncheon
Explorer
Session Seven, Part Four: The Mysterious Cargo
Katya's eyes narrowed, focusing on the captain - but her words were directed at her companions - and soft as they were, they carried across the deck: "Don't. You. Dare." The priestess threw herself backward in the web, and the Voice of Fate issued from her lips: "Surrender."
It takes a strong man to defy the word of a god, but it seemed the Captain was such a man - or at least, he could discern between the voice of a god and the voice of its servant. His blade lashed out, but his momentary hesitation allowed Katya to twist away, and the blade opened a bloody furrow on her shoulder rather than a killing blow on her neck.
Di'Fier gestured, shouted, and a ball of flames erupted behind the Captain as he charged again across the deck. With a step, Dru was besinde him, battering aside the blade of the knife-handed crewman and wounding him deeply. Then the captain came sailing down the steep stairs to slam into the deck, the mark of Katya's boot red on his face. Di'Fier raised his blade, but the captain held up an empty hand.
"We'll not be harmed more if we surrender?"
Di'Fier kept the blade upraised in silent threat. "Not at all."
The Captain's sword fell to the deck. "Very well. We surrender."
Dru looked at the Captain, who sat tied to a chair, and her face soured. "Why would you work for them?" she wondered.
Her answer was a slight shrug. "Their gold's as yellow as anyone else's," he said.
"What were you bringing them?"
The Captain remained silent.
"If you don't tell me, I'll kill you."
A snort. "That's not very honorable. Your friend gave me his word we wouldn't be hurt."
"What do you know about honor?" Dru shot back. "You're a pirate."
"I'm a smuggler!" the Captain objected. There was a long silence, and he looked away. "They'd kill me anyway."
The elf shrugged. "Then I'll protect you."
The Captain looked at her for a long moment, appraising her. "You say what you think will get you the answer you want. I'll not trust someone who's so willing to make her friend into an oathbreaker."
Dru left in silence.
A single lantern swinging from a hook in the ceiling send strange shadows spinning across the ship's hold. It was stacked full: bolts of silk piled along the aft bulkhead, casks lashed to port and starboard. Some sloshed from the liquid within, while others sounded tantalizingly full. It was the work of several long minutes to haul a few of them out to the center of the hold, where the lids could be pried open.
Dru levered the wooden disc out of the way with her dagger, and stared in amazement at the contents of the cask. Reaching into it, she withdrew a small object and held it up to the dim light of the lantern.
Di'Fier's brow furrowed as he looked as well.
"Lavender soap?"
The Captain rubbed his wrists where they'd been tied, as Di'Fier sheathed his dagger and leaned against the bulkhead.
"Since you haven't been in the city, you don't know what's been going on - but we're allowed to arrest anyone suspected of being involved with criminal activities. Arrest first, ask questions later," the mage began. "But, if you cooperate, we'll overlook that. Now. Who on this ship was a member of the Dragon's Claw?"
The Captain's eyes studied the planks of the deck. "None of 'em. They're all my men - we were hired to make the shipment, that's all."
Dru wandered about the room, forcing the Captain to twist in his chair to keep an eye on her. "I'm trying to figure out what people invading the city would want with silk and soap."
The Captain, deadpan: "Maybe they don't want to look and smell bad."
Di'Fier surpressed a smirk, while Dru took a different tactic. "You know we're not going to let you deliver the goods. Why don't you cooperate?"
"If I do, we're finished as smugglers - nobody would trust us," the Captain told her. "We are anyway," he sighed, shoulders slumping. "There's not enough of us left to crew the ship."
"If you had trouble," Dru began. "Trouble finding backers...you could always smuggle for us. We can get a crew for you in the city."
"Us?" The Captain studied the elf, scowling.
"My name is Drusila Naïlo. Tensin Naïlo is my father."
The man's pupil's widened, but he betrayed no other sign of surprise. "I thought you were with the watch."
"Times change. Do we have a bargain?"
The aft walls of two of the cabins proved to hold hidden panels that could be removed, revealing small, closetlike rooms - hardly enough space to smuggle large quantities of anything, but for items that were valuable as well as small...
Di'Fier moved into the room, pulling out one of the bundles, wrapped in oilskin. His fingers moved on the laces, and he unrolled it there on the cabin floor, revealing sleek shapes of wood and oiled steel: strange fire-weapons that were twin to the one Dru still had shoved through her belt.
Dru knelt and picked one of them up, turning it over in her hands. "They're like some kind of alchemical crossbow," she said. "I could feel the bolt - or whatever it was - fly past my head. It was too fast to see." She set the thing down carefully and rocked back on her heels. "My buckler didn't even try to block it," she said slowly. "That's never happened before."
Di'Fier began pulling out the other bundles - seven more all told. The weapons ranged in size from chin-high on Dru, to small enough to fit in a pocket. "Not quite enough to outfit an army," he said, looking over the assembled ironwork, "but enough to cause a problem."
A search of the other room revealed a half-score casks of a gritty sulpherous powder, a collection of variously-sized leaden balls, and the molds and tools to make more. Di'Fier held up one of the balls speculatively. "Like a sling bullet. Except much, much faster." And apparently, he thought, able to bypass magical protections. No wonder the Claw wants them. "We'd better get them back to the city, then."
The wagon creaked down the deserted streets, its driver reveling in the unexpected lack of rain. The old nag pulling the cart seemed happy with the situation too, and even tossed her head and picked up her feet a bit.
As the wagon rattled down the docks, the driver could see a figure waiting for him - sitting on top of a stack of...whatever he'd been sent here to collect. He reined the horse in, set the brake, and grinned as the Watch-Lieutenant stood up. "Morning," the driver rasped. "Great weather, huh?"
Di'Fier nodded. "Good to see you, Jaffar. Let's get these loaded."
The Watch-Sergeant hopped down and flipped open one of the bundles. "What the heck are these things, anyway?" Then the oiled canvas was thrown back over the blued steel, and Di'Fier looked sternly down at him.
"They're some kind of weapon. Keep quiet about them," the mage warned. "The Claw was importing them."
"Yeah, okay, okay." Jaffar began muscling the casks into the wagon. Soon all five were loaded, the four bundles of mysterious weapons nestled beside them. "Is that everything?"
Di'Fier was silent for a long moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that's everything. Let's go."
- End of Session 7 -
Katya's eyes narrowed, focusing on the captain - but her words were directed at her companions - and soft as they were, they carried across the deck: "Don't. You. Dare." The priestess threw herself backward in the web, and the Voice of Fate issued from her lips: "Surrender."
It takes a strong man to defy the word of a god, but it seemed the Captain was such a man - or at least, he could discern between the voice of a god and the voice of its servant. His blade lashed out, but his momentary hesitation allowed Katya to twist away, and the blade opened a bloody furrow on her shoulder rather than a killing blow on her neck.
Di'Fier gestured, shouted, and a ball of flames erupted behind the Captain as he charged again across the deck. With a step, Dru was besinde him, battering aside the blade of the knife-handed crewman and wounding him deeply. Then the captain came sailing down the steep stairs to slam into the deck, the mark of Katya's boot red on his face. Di'Fier raised his blade, but the captain held up an empty hand.
"We'll not be harmed more if we surrender?"
Di'Fier kept the blade upraised in silent threat. "Not at all."
The Captain's sword fell to the deck. "Very well. We surrender."
Dru looked at the Captain, who sat tied to a chair, and her face soured. "Why would you work for them?" she wondered.
Her answer was a slight shrug. "Their gold's as yellow as anyone else's," he said.
"What were you bringing them?"
The Captain remained silent.
"If you don't tell me, I'll kill you."
A snort. "That's not very honorable. Your friend gave me his word we wouldn't be hurt."
"What do you know about honor?" Dru shot back. "You're a pirate."
"I'm a smuggler!" the Captain objected. There was a long silence, and he looked away. "They'd kill me anyway."
The elf shrugged. "Then I'll protect you."
The Captain looked at her for a long moment, appraising her. "You say what you think will get you the answer you want. I'll not trust someone who's so willing to make her friend into an oathbreaker."
Dru left in silence.
A single lantern swinging from a hook in the ceiling send strange shadows spinning across the ship's hold. It was stacked full: bolts of silk piled along the aft bulkhead, casks lashed to port and starboard. Some sloshed from the liquid within, while others sounded tantalizingly full. It was the work of several long minutes to haul a few of them out to the center of the hold, where the lids could be pried open.
Dru levered the wooden disc out of the way with her dagger, and stared in amazement at the contents of the cask. Reaching into it, she withdrew a small object and held it up to the dim light of the lantern.
Di'Fier's brow furrowed as he looked as well.
"Lavender soap?"
The Captain rubbed his wrists where they'd been tied, as Di'Fier sheathed his dagger and leaned against the bulkhead.
"Since you haven't been in the city, you don't know what's been going on - but we're allowed to arrest anyone suspected of being involved with criminal activities. Arrest first, ask questions later," the mage began. "But, if you cooperate, we'll overlook that. Now. Who on this ship was a member of the Dragon's Claw?"
The Captain's eyes studied the planks of the deck. "None of 'em. They're all my men - we were hired to make the shipment, that's all."
Dru wandered about the room, forcing the Captain to twist in his chair to keep an eye on her. "I'm trying to figure out what people invading the city would want with silk and soap."
The Captain, deadpan: "Maybe they don't want to look and smell bad."
Di'Fier surpressed a smirk, while Dru took a different tactic. "You know we're not going to let you deliver the goods. Why don't you cooperate?"
"If I do, we're finished as smugglers - nobody would trust us," the Captain told her. "We are anyway," he sighed, shoulders slumping. "There's not enough of us left to crew the ship."
"If you had trouble," Dru began. "Trouble finding backers...you could always smuggle for us. We can get a crew for you in the city."
"Us?" The Captain studied the elf, scowling.
"My name is Drusila Naïlo. Tensin Naïlo is my father."
The man's pupil's widened, but he betrayed no other sign of surprise. "I thought you were with the watch."
"Times change. Do we have a bargain?"
The aft walls of two of the cabins proved to hold hidden panels that could be removed, revealing small, closetlike rooms - hardly enough space to smuggle large quantities of anything, but for items that were valuable as well as small...
Di'Fier moved into the room, pulling out one of the bundles, wrapped in oilskin. His fingers moved on the laces, and he unrolled it there on the cabin floor, revealing sleek shapes of wood and oiled steel: strange fire-weapons that were twin to the one Dru still had shoved through her belt.
Dru knelt and picked one of them up, turning it over in her hands. "They're like some kind of alchemical crossbow," she said. "I could feel the bolt - or whatever it was - fly past my head. It was too fast to see." She set the thing down carefully and rocked back on her heels. "My buckler didn't even try to block it," she said slowly. "That's never happened before."
Di'Fier began pulling out the other bundles - seven more all told. The weapons ranged in size from chin-high on Dru, to small enough to fit in a pocket. "Not quite enough to outfit an army," he said, looking over the assembled ironwork, "but enough to cause a problem."
A search of the other room revealed a half-score casks of a gritty sulpherous powder, a collection of variously-sized leaden balls, and the molds and tools to make more. Di'Fier held up one of the balls speculatively. "Like a sling bullet. Except much, much faster." And apparently, he thought, able to bypass magical protections. No wonder the Claw wants them. "We'd better get them back to the city, then."
The wagon creaked down the deserted streets, its driver reveling in the unexpected lack of rain. The old nag pulling the cart seemed happy with the situation too, and even tossed her head and picked up her feet a bit.
As the wagon rattled down the docks, the driver could see a figure waiting for him - sitting on top of a stack of...whatever he'd been sent here to collect. He reined the horse in, set the brake, and grinned as the Watch-Lieutenant stood up. "Morning," the driver rasped. "Great weather, huh?"
Di'Fier nodded. "Good to see you, Jaffar. Let's get these loaded."
The Watch-Sergeant hopped down and flipped open one of the bundles. "What the heck are these things, anyway?" Then the oiled canvas was thrown back over the blued steel, and Di'Fier looked sternly down at him.
"They're some kind of weapon. Keep quiet about them," the mage warned. "The Claw was importing them."
"Yeah, okay, okay." Jaffar began muscling the casks into the wagon. Soon all five were loaded, the four bundles of mysterious weapons nestled beside them. "Is that everything?"
Di'Fier was silent for a long moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that's everything. Let's go."
- End of Session 7 -
