drnuncheon
Explorer
...and so I have. Check out the Rogue's Gallery thread for stats on Hallfred, Jaffar, and Capt. Donnach - as well as a bit more info about the Watch.
J
J
drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour
- Status
Jon Potter
First Post
Cool...
Thanks for the update.
Second Level Warriors, huh?
No wonder they were getting the tar kicked out of 'em at Tas' funeral!
Now, about this Kenzil...
Thanks for the update.
Second Level Warriors, huh?
No wonder they were getting the tar kicked out of 'em at Tas' funeral!
Now, about this Kenzil...
drnuncheon
Explorer
Re: Cool...
Actually, at that point they were first level warriors. I had to give 'em some props for surviving.
(Which reminds me, I ought to stat up Kiva sometime...)
Kenzil. Heh. Kenzil was Dru and Di'Fier's first inkling of what a prepared 7th-level wizard could do - and he was focused on getting away rather than hurting them. Even in the rematch (coming soon, I promise) when he's low on spells, he still manages to nearly get away.
Stats for him at their last encounter will be up tonight.
J
Jon Potter said:
Actually, at that point they were first level warriors. I had to give 'em some props for surviving.
(Which reminds me, I ought to stat up Kiva sometime...)Kenzil. Heh. Kenzil was Dru and Di'Fier's first inkling of what a prepared 7th-level wizard could do - and he was focused on getting away rather than hurting them. Even in the rematch (coming soon, I promise) when he's low on spells, he still manages to nearly get away.
Stats for him at their last encounter will be up tonight.
J
drnuncheon
Explorer
Session Eleven, Part One: This is a Bust
The shovel bit into the dirt, but there was something unusual about the feel of it. The figure looked up, only its eyes visible above the mass of cloth wrapped around its face. "I think I found something."
The other two diggers moved over to him - one brushing aside a vine which hung from the branches of a lemon tree, the other fumbling with a strange makeshift rope tied to his waist. "Let's check." The other two began plying their sovels with vigor.
Some distance away, a fourth figure craned his neck to see what was going on. He hed three ropes of braided cloth in his enormous hamlike fist - one leading to each of the masked diggers. He shuffled his feet and waited, an impatient sentry.
Shovelfuls of rich earth fell to the side, and soon the target of their digging was uncovered: the body of a young woman lay before them, bits of dirt still scattered across her fine features. The thin tendrils of roots had already begun to twine about her arm. The first figure raised its shovel and savagely hacked the roots away. "Let's get her out of here. What do you want to bet the boy is under the other one?" The other two nodded, and shouldered their shovels.
Not an hour later, a second body lay beside the first - a young man this time. The two figures carrying him set him carefully down beside the woman. Perched on the wall, a large black bird eyed the bodies speculatively, before taking wing and gliding off across the city.
One of the masked diggers pulled off his gloves, and began unwinding the length of cloth from his face. The features that emerged were fine, almost delicate, with a definite sign of elven blood. He dropped the cloth to the ground. "Buried them in his own garden. I can hardly believe it."
The other two had followed suit, their face-wrappings falling away. "I can," said the second - a full-blooded elven woman whose face looked as if it had been chiseled out of stone. She showed no trace of expression as she looked down at the bodies, running a hand through her ragged black hair. "But then again, you never had to deal with him."
The third nodded his agreement. He was a tall man, thin and wiry, and his normally amused expression was dampened by the morning's work. He reached down and picked his sword up from where he'd laid it in the grass, and slung it over his shoulder. "He probably expected the vines to get rid of the evidence," he mused. "In fact, that's probably what killed them in the first place." His eyes darted towards the luscious red berries dangling from the plant in question. "Trust me, Antone, it's a good thing these wrappings worked. Otherwise Hallfred would have spent all his time dragging us away from the fruit."
The big man just grinned.
"He's guilty," Dru said flatly as they walked across the marketplace towards the Platinum Quill.
Di'Fier glanced over at his partner. He was used to her snap judgements, but usually she had some reason. And I have to admit, he mused, she's often right.
"He saw us and looked scared," the elven Watchman continued.
Of course, that may be because everyone in this city is guilty of something..., Di'Fier thought. And nobody likes to see four armed Watchmen making a beeline for them... The raven that rested on the pommel of his sword took wing to circle behind the shop as the Watchmen politely waited for the man to finish his business. Antone and Hallfred flanked the entrance as Dru and Di'Fier went in.
Pushing past the exiting merchant, Dru leaned forward, her knuckles on the table. "Why did you lie to us about the journeyman?"
The man was taken aback. "The, ah, journeyman? Which one?"
Di'Fier described the boy they had found in the garden. "You said you'd never met him."
Confusion flickered across the man's eyes. "Yes, he was here..."
Dru reflexively reached for the man's shirt, only stopping herself at the last moment. "The one we talked to you about?" she demanded.
"Watchman..." the man swallowed, nervously brushing wrinkles from his clothes, "I have never seen you before in my life."
"I didn't buy them...and he hasn't been back." The woman looked nervously between the two guards, as if hoping for their approval.
Dru frowned. Usually nobody's this scared until I threaten them a few times. Maybe I'm getting a reputation.
As she and Di'Fier turned to leave, the woman called out. "You'll tell him I did as he asked?" Her voice was tinged with fear - almost hysteria.
Dru whirled. "Who?" she snapped.
"Your father."
"This is getting far too complicated," complained Dru as she sat down across from her partner. "First Catellion at the Quill claims he's never seen us before in his life."
Di'Fier nodded. "That shouldn't surprise us, since we already know that Kenzil can disguise himself."
"Then Roseshade the shuffler is threatened by my father if she buys the contracts," Dru continued.
"I'll bet if we talked to other shufflers we'd hear the same thing."
"And now Arrasti and Zahad have both had offers from an unknown person to destroy the contracts for a certain amount of money," she finished, taking a long drink from her tankard.
"It sounds like Kenzil can't find any buyers, and he's trying to make the money any way he can." Di'Fier leaned back in his chair and sipped his own drink. "And since we've got the place where he's supposed to meet each of them...I think it's time to pull off a little scam of our own."
Di'Fier pounded up the stairs. His lungs burned from the exertion, and tracers of fire wound their way across his chest where the wizard's magic missile had slammed into him. How can he move that fast?
It had started so well. He and Dru had arrived, disguised as Arrasti's guards. They'd even made the swap for the contract. Sure, the wizard was invisible, but Di'Fier had planned for that. What he hadn't planned for was the speed at which the wizard seemed to be able to move...and cast his spells.
Even as he had finished casting see invisible, the wizard had been chanting as well. He'd dodged Di'Fier's blade as if the guardsman had been moving in slow motion, and then started summoning hounds from the air. At least these ones didn't breathe fire.
At least Dru can see him now, Di'Fier grimaced as he bumped his arm into the wall, and the pain shot across his chest again. His partner had run right past the wizard earlier. And he can't have many spells left...
Ahead of him, the wizard turned.
"And when he went to run past me," Dru gestured with the skewer she was gnawing the meat from, "Wham. Right in the leg. He never saw it coming. Should have seen the look on his face right before it slammed into the floor." Her audience laughed.
Di'Fier was lost in his own thoughts, though. I can't believe he's out on bail already, he sighed. It's like someone was just waiting for him to get arrested. He took a long drink of the Lantern's finest. Oh, well. We recovered the contracts, and Kathkallan is ecstatic. We could have had permanent jobs heading up his security forces...but there's still plenty to do here in Freeport. Maybe someday...
The wizard Kenzil knelt in the opulent, dimly lit cabin. The tide gently swayed the ship from side to side. The massive bestial forms of two ogres, bent almost double, flanked the kneeling wizard, making him feel even smaller.
Somehow, the man he knelt in front of didn't seem to be dwarfed by the ogres at all. Perhaps it was the mute deference they paid him, or the regal confidence with which he held himself. The captain swirled the rich red liquid in his snifter as he looked down at the wizard.
"Your gifts were very impressive," he purred, his rich voice filling the room. "Aside from the dagger, which was a poor forgery." He smirked at the wizard's reaction. "I see my tastes are well known.
"Th-there are more," stammered Kenzil. "The statues, the painting..."
"Hm, yes. The items which were too large for you to move in your condition. Perhaps I shall send my men for them in the morning. But that is not what I want." He raised the glass to delicately inhale the scent of his drink. "I have need of a wizard, and you will perform admirably."
The captain's smile seemed warm, but it still managed to chill Kenzil to the bone. The wizard forced the words out. "I will...serve you."
"Yes. Yes, you will. One way or another." And Bloody Jenkins smiled.
The shovel bit into the dirt, but there was something unusual about the feel of it. The figure looked up, only its eyes visible above the mass of cloth wrapped around its face. "I think I found something."
The other two diggers moved over to him - one brushing aside a vine which hung from the branches of a lemon tree, the other fumbling with a strange makeshift rope tied to his waist. "Let's check." The other two began plying their sovels with vigor.
Some distance away, a fourth figure craned his neck to see what was going on. He hed three ropes of braided cloth in his enormous hamlike fist - one leading to each of the masked diggers. He shuffled his feet and waited, an impatient sentry.
Shovelfuls of rich earth fell to the side, and soon the target of their digging was uncovered: the body of a young woman lay before them, bits of dirt still scattered across her fine features. The thin tendrils of roots had already begun to twine about her arm. The first figure raised its shovel and savagely hacked the roots away. "Let's get her out of here. What do you want to bet the boy is under the other one?" The other two nodded, and shouldered their shovels.
Not an hour later, a second body lay beside the first - a young man this time. The two figures carrying him set him carefully down beside the woman. Perched on the wall, a large black bird eyed the bodies speculatively, before taking wing and gliding off across the city.
One of the masked diggers pulled off his gloves, and began unwinding the length of cloth from his face. The features that emerged were fine, almost delicate, with a definite sign of elven blood. He dropped the cloth to the ground. "Buried them in his own garden. I can hardly believe it."
The other two had followed suit, their face-wrappings falling away. "I can," said the second - a full-blooded elven woman whose face looked as if it had been chiseled out of stone. She showed no trace of expression as she looked down at the bodies, running a hand through her ragged black hair. "But then again, you never had to deal with him."
The third nodded his agreement. He was a tall man, thin and wiry, and his normally amused expression was dampened by the morning's work. He reached down and picked his sword up from where he'd laid it in the grass, and slung it over his shoulder. "He probably expected the vines to get rid of the evidence," he mused. "In fact, that's probably what killed them in the first place." His eyes darted towards the luscious red berries dangling from the plant in question. "Trust me, Antone, it's a good thing these wrappings worked. Otherwise Hallfred would have spent all his time dragging us away from the fruit."
The big man just grinned.
"He's guilty," Dru said flatly as they walked across the marketplace towards the Platinum Quill.
Di'Fier glanced over at his partner. He was used to her snap judgements, but usually she had some reason. And I have to admit, he mused, she's often right.
"He saw us and looked scared," the elven Watchman continued.
Of course, that may be because everyone in this city is guilty of something..., Di'Fier thought. And nobody likes to see four armed Watchmen making a beeline for them... The raven that rested on the pommel of his sword took wing to circle behind the shop as the Watchmen politely waited for the man to finish his business. Antone and Hallfred flanked the entrance as Dru and Di'Fier went in.
Pushing past the exiting merchant, Dru leaned forward, her knuckles on the table. "Why did you lie to us about the journeyman?"
The man was taken aback. "The, ah, journeyman? Which one?"
Di'Fier described the boy they had found in the garden. "You said you'd never met him."
Confusion flickered across the man's eyes. "Yes, he was here..."
Dru reflexively reached for the man's shirt, only stopping herself at the last moment. "The one we talked to you about?" she demanded.
"Watchman..." the man swallowed, nervously brushing wrinkles from his clothes, "I have never seen you before in my life."
"I didn't buy them...and he hasn't been back." The woman looked nervously between the two guards, as if hoping for their approval.
Dru frowned. Usually nobody's this scared until I threaten them a few times. Maybe I'm getting a reputation.
As she and Di'Fier turned to leave, the woman called out. "You'll tell him I did as he asked?" Her voice was tinged with fear - almost hysteria.
Dru whirled. "Who?" she snapped.
"Your father."
"This is getting far too complicated," complained Dru as she sat down across from her partner. "First Catellion at the Quill claims he's never seen us before in his life."
Di'Fier nodded. "That shouldn't surprise us, since we already know that Kenzil can disguise himself."
"Then Roseshade the shuffler is threatened by my father if she buys the contracts," Dru continued.
"I'll bet if we talked to other shufflers we'd hear the same thing."
"And now Arrasti and Zahad have both had offers from an unknown person to destroy the contracts for a certain amount of money," she finished, taking a long drink from her tankard.
"It sounds like Kenzil can't find any buyers, and he's trying to make the money any way he can." Di'Fier leaned back in his chair and sipped his own drink. "And since we've got the place where he's supposed to meet each of them...I think it's time to pull off a little scam of our own."
Di'Fier pounded up the stairs. His lungs burned from the exertion, and tracers of fire wound their way across his chest where the wizard's magic missile had slammed into him. How can he move that fast?
It had started so well. He and Dru had arrived, disguised as Arrasti's guards. They'd even made the swap for the contract. Sure, the wizard was invisible, but Di'Fier had planned for that. What he hadn't planned for was the speed at which the wizard seemed to be able to move...and cast his spells.
Even as he had finished casting see invisible, the wizard had been chanting as well. He'd dodged Di'Fier's blade as if the guardsman had been moving in slow motion, and then started summoning hounds from the air. At least these ones didn't breathe fire.
At least Dru can see him now, Di'Fier grimaced as he bumped his arm into the wall, and the pain shot across his chest again. His partner had run right past the wizard earlier. And he can't have many spells left...
Ahead of him, the wizard turned.
"And when he went to run past me," Dru gestured with the skewer she was gnawing the meat from, "Wham. Right in the leg. He never saw it coming. Should have seen the look on his face right before it slammed into the floor." Her audience laughed.
Di'Fier was lost in his own thoughts, though. I can't believe he's out on bail already, he sighed. It's like someone was just waiting for him to get arrested. He took a long drink of the Lantern's finest. Oh, well. We recovered the contracts, and Kathkallan is ecstatic. We could have had permanent jobs heading up his security forces...but there's still plenty to do here in Freeport. Maybe someday...
The wizard Kenzil knelt in the opulent, dimly lit cabin. The tide gently swayed the ship from side to side. The massive bestial forms of two ogres, bent almost double, flanked the kneeling wizard, making him feel even smaller.
Somehow, the man he knelt in front of didn't seem to be dwarfed by the ogres at all. Perhaps it was the mute deference they paid him, or the regal confidence with which he held himself. The captain swirled the rich red liquid in his snifter as he looked down at the wizard.
"Your gifts were very impressive," he purred, his rich voice filling the room. "Aside from the dagger, which was a poor forgery." He smirked at the wizard's reaction. "I see my tastes are well known.
"Th-there are more," stammered Kenzil. "The statues, the painting..."
"Hm, yes. The items which were too large for you to move in your condition. Perhaps I shall send my men for them in the morning. But that is not what I want." He raised the glass to delicately inhale the scent of his drink. "I have need of a wizard, and you will perform admirably."
The captain's smile seemed warm, but it still managed to chill Kenzil to the bone. The wizard forced the words out. "I will...serve you."
"Yes. Yes, you will. One way or another." And Bloody Jenkins smiled.
Last edited:
Re: Session Eleven, Part One: (placeholder only)
Writer's block sucks
Go on, drnuncheon, you can do it! relax a bit and try again. And again! (I want my freeport update)
And if you don't arrive, at least tell us your opinions about the Freeport book...
drnuncheon said:
Writer's block sucks
Go on, drnuncheon, you can do it! relax a bit and try again. And again!
(I want my freeport update)And if you don't arrive, at least tell us your opinions about the Freeport book...
drnuncheon
Explorer
Session Eleven, Part Two: Shipping News Special Edition
Compiler's Note: The following clipping from the Freeport broadsheet "The Shipping News" was published in the wake of the undead uprising that occurred just before Swagfest this year. The opinions are most certainly not those of yr. humble chronicler, and are displayed here merely in the interest of providing an alternate viewpoint - in addition to providing my gentle readers with further information about the situation in Freeport, the reporting of which I have been intolerably lax in of late.
It has also been pointed out to me that past editions of this Story Hour have inaccurately referred to Dru and Di'Fier as 'guards' and 'guardsmen'. Reader "D.N." informs me that Dru and Di'Fier are members of the Watch, and that they do real work, unlike members of a certain other organization who she refuses to mention (but see my notes in the Rogues Gallery for a potential insight). My most heartfelt and humble apologies to Watch-Lieutenants Dru and Di'Fier.
Compiler's Note: The following clipping from the Freeport broadsheet "The Shipping News" was published in the wake of the undead uprising that occurred just before Swagfest this year. The opinions are most certainly not those of yr. humble chronicler, and are displayed here merely in the interest of providing an alternate viewpoint - in addition to providing my gentle readers with further information about the situation in Freeport, the reporting of which I have been intolerably lax in of late.
It has also been pointed out to me that past editions of this Story Hour have inaccurately referred to Dru and Di'Fier as 'guards' and 'guardsmen'. Reader "D.N." informs me that Dru and Di'Fier are members of the Watch, and that they do real work, unlike members of a certain other organization who she refuses to mention (but see my notes in the Rogues Gallery for a potential insight). My most heartfelt and humble apologies to Watch-Lieutenants Dru and Di'Fier.
Code:
[color=silver]
[size=4][b]
Undead Invade City,
Watch Invades Sanitarium[/b][/size]
FREEPORT - As their comrades bravely
battled the hordes of walking dead that
invaded the city, four Watchmen crept
off to break into the sanitarium on the
outskirts of the Old City on an un-
disclosed mission that cost one of them
his life.
These Watchmen, led by notorious Watch
trouble-makers Di'Fier and Drusilia
Nailo, entered the grounds, where the
3rd Watchman, new recruit Paden Black-
batel, used some form of necromantic
ability to gain control of the undead
outside of the building! If the Watch
is now recruiting potential masters of
the dark arts, it is a rather chilling
prospect indeed, and one which does not
bode well for our fair city.
Their actions after entering the
building are uncertain, but this
reporter had the opportunity to visit
the site of the carnage, where the
Watch claims they battled legions of
the walking dead, including ghostly
manifestations that attacked their very
soul, and some form of ghoulish ogre.
Unfortunately, the physical evidence
for their outlandish tale is lacking -
of all of the alleged undead, not a
single one could be produced.
It was clear that [i]something[/i] occurred,
however, as the residents of the asylum
had been savagely butchered, and the
fourth Watchman, one Hallfred by name,
met his gory end in catacombs beneath
the site. Watch-Lieutenants Nailo and
Di'Fier are no strangers to either
bizarre claims or unofficial so-called
"investigations" based on their own
paranoid delusions - witness their
claims of a secret cult of snake-people
operating unseen in our city, claims
which led to the temporary suspension
of their duties after a confrontation
with High Priest Thuron of the Temple
of Knowledge.
Sources say that in recent weeks the
officers in question had been asking
questions about one Amarylis Green-
bottle, a noted halfling brewer who had
recently been admitted to the facility
after a breakdown. Is it possible that
the entire episode was engineered to
gain access to Greenbottle?
Brother Norton of the city's Temple of
Knowledge, had this to say about the
pair: "Ah- ah- ah... kni ... knives.
S-s-snakes." The traumatized brother
was found in the basement of the
sanitarium, where he was placed after
the recent bloody attack on the Temple
of Knowledge - an incident, we might
add, that the Watchmen in question were
also involved in. Brother Norton has
since been transferred to the Temple on
the mainland where he can receive the
care and attention due someone in his
unfortunate condition.
It is clear from the evidence that the
City Watch is covering something up,
and we may never know the truth behind
their bloody foray unless a full and
accurate accounting for their actions
is demanded by the citizenry of this
city.
[/COLOR]drnuncheon
Explorer
Drusilia Nailo
First Post
Dr. Nuncheon decided to have character reactions to this bit of fine journalism, so here goes.
Dru limped wearily into The Rusty Lantern, the city’s semi-official Watch tavern, and slumped down at a table full of her fellows, with faint nod to those closest to her. For once she was without her partner, Di’Fier. “We don’t get paid enough for this job,” she muttered to them.
There was a chorus of agreement, and then Jafar brought out a folded copy of “The Shipping News.” “Dru,” he whispered raggedly, with his long-damaged voice, “Have you read the latest about you and Di’Fier?”
Dru’s eyes narrowed when she glanced at the paper. “No,” she said with a sigh. “What do they have to say about us this time?” The elf ran a hand through her hair roughly, before reaching out and snatching the paper. He eyes skimmed hurriedly over the less than flattering article, while the rest of those at the table watched her with mingled amusement and concern. More than one man was fully prepared to leap away from the table, if she decided to have an outburst.
She glanced up, chuckling. “Notorious troublemakers? Seems that we’ve been doing our jobs, at least...” She looked back down, and kept reading. She started scowling as she read on. “Potential masters of the dark arts? Paranoid delusions?” With a snort, the elf dropped the paper back down onto the tabletop.
There was an almost inaudible sigh of relief around the table, one that Dru seemed to be unaware of. Jafar whispered, “I don’t think he likes you much.”
Dru chuckled. “Oh, he’s been irritable ever since Di’Fier and I wouldn’t give him an interview once.” She paused, brows wrinkling in thought. “Or maybe because I chased him out of the Watch Headquarters with my sword...” With a shrug, she says, “Who knows, really?”
She seemed oblivious to the glances that the others watchmen gave each other, and gestured for the barkeep. “Ale,” she said, almost cheerfully, putting the incident from her mind
Dru limped wearily into The Rusty Lantern, the city’s semi-official Watch tavern, and slumped down at a table full of her fellows, with faint nod to those closest to her. For once she was without her partner, Di’Fier. “We don’t get paid enough for this job,” she muttered to them.
There was a chorus of agreement, and then Jafar brought out a folded copy of “The Shipping News.” “Dru,” he whispered raggedly, with his long-damaged voice, “Have you read the latest about you and Di’Fier?”
Dru’s eyes narrowed when she glanced at the paper. “No,” she said with a sigh. “What do they have to say about us this time?” The elf ran a hand through her hair roughly, before reaching out and snatching the paper. He eyes skimmed hurriedly over the less than flattering article, while the rest of those at the table watched her with mingled amusement and concern. More than one man was fully prepared to leap away from the table, if she decided to have an outburst.
She glanced up, chuckling. “Notorious troublemakers? Seems that we’ve been doing our jobs, at least...” She looked back down, and kept reading. She started scowling as she read on. “Potential masters of the dark arts? Paranoid delusions?” With a snort, the elf dropped the paper back down onto the tabletop.
There was an almost inaudible sigh of relief around the table, one that Dru seemed to be unaware of. Jafar whispered, “I don’t think he likes you much.”
Dru chuckled. “Oh, he’s been irritable ever since Di’Fier and I wouldn’t give him an interview once.” She paused, brows wrinkling in thought. “Or maybe because I chased him out of the Watch Headquarters with my sword...” With a shrug, she says, “Who knows, really?”
She seemed oblivious to the glances that the others watchmen gave each other, and gestured for the barkeep. “Ale,” she said, almost cheerfully, putting the incident from her mind
Jon Potter
First Post
Nice change of pace,,,
... two changes actually.
I like the device of the 'news clipping' and hearing from Dru was also quite welcome.
Of course, this does make me all the more excited to eventually read what happened in Session Eleven, Part One. Not the least reason being to find out more about this mysterious practitioner of the necromantic arts...
... two changes actually.
I like the device of the 'news clipping' and hearing from Dru was also quite welcome.
Of course, this does make me all the more excited to eventually read what happened in Session Eleven, Part One. Not the least reason being to find out more about this mysterious practitioner of the necromantic arts...
- Status
