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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 7623134" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p><strong>Entering Portstown Gingerly - 6/19/2019</strong></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><strong>Entering Portstown Gingerly</strong></p> <p style="text-align: center"><strong></strong></p> <p style="text-align: center">(And a special welcome to the folks who have shot my pageviews through the roof!)</p> <p style="text-align: center"></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>My faith spends a lot of time with people preparing for the final days. Either their own, or someone close to them.</em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em></em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>So, preparing someone to live is an uncommon experience. </em></p><p></p><p>I was up relatively early the next morning, watching the sun rise. The last time I watched it was somewhere between Triboar and Yartar. It was still a novelty to me, and this seemed to be a great way to watch it. Sitting on a chair on the deck, doing essentially nothing but watching. I could look at the color of the sun, and the colors it painted across the landscape as it rose. Closing my eyes, I could see the light, and feel the beginning of warmth on my face. It was a peaceful indulgence.</p><p></p><p>But truth be told, I was up, not because of the sun. It wasn’t even because I couldn’t sleep much myself, although that did have a small part in it. I was truly awake because I wanted to see Kingsley when he first woke.</p><p>During the war in Sigil, there were many patients who after taking a grievous wound that weren’t the same. Most causes were obvious; a loss of a limb, or an eye were enough to break the spirits of a person not prepared to be a casualty. But there were others that while the wound healed, they didn’t <strong><em>act</em></strong> the same. Some were quiet, some were slow, and some were violent. The Gatehouse would often take in the last and keep them from others so they didn’t harm anyone. The others hopefully had family to care for them.</p><p></p><p>I didn’t know where Kingsley might land. We didn’t know anything about him. Did he have family in Yartar? Anywhere near? What would he do now? Was his mind intact? Hopefully today we would know.</p><p>I heard a soft groan from another tent and I turned my head hoping. But the quick hoot of Foggle, made it clear who was stirring. And not long after, Beepu crawled out of the tent that we had shared. He pulled himself upright and stretched. Seeing me he both yawned and waved.</p><p></p><p>“Morning. I guess you slept well,” he remarked.</p><p></p><p>“Well, once the three humans passed out on the deck I could think about it.” I said gesturing at the still forms by the table nearby. “Daneath and Iesa were up longer, still talking when I finally called it. Thanks for…being a gentlegnome last night?”</p><p></p><p>“Oh well…yes. I do not take as much room as the others, so it only made sense. And besides I do have manners.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes…yes you do.”</p><p></p><p>“Ahem, any sign of the others?”</p><p></p><p>I shook my head, “They were snoring right before sunrise. Saw Mo somewhere, probably looking for food or something.” And I looked behind Beepu at the tent that held Kingsley. “And nothing from our…friend yet.”</p><p>“Yes. Quite the conundrum. Hopefully he can tell us a little more on what we left behind.”</p><p></p><p>It was then I could a hear a groan from Kingsley’s tent. I pulled myself onto my feet and walked over to the closed tent. What I heard was some muffled whispering and frantic searching. Presently, the flap to his tent was flung aside and Kingsley, wild-eyed and confused emerged. He stood up and was starting to look around when I addressed him.</p><p></p><p>“Are you feeling better Kingsley?”</p><p></p><p>He turned to look at me with surprise. “I…well…I guess? I thought I was dreaming. But I don’t know what was dream and what was real.” Looking around for the first time his confusion continued, “I don’t quite know where I am for that matter.”</p><p></p><p>“I’m told this is the River Surbrin, and you are heading north on a barge. What do you remember?”</p><p></p><p>“Well…I…swore I was dead. I remember seeing you and the dark-haired fellow. And I…I was stabbed? Yes…I remember that. But—” he looked at the tunic he wore, that had a clear hole on the left side. But looked under it, clearly trying to find something else.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, you did have a javelin sticking through your chest.”</p><p></p><p>He looked puzzled, “But I don’t see a wound...or blood even.”</p><p></p><p>“No, you would not,” Beepu said. “Between Myrai and I, we cleaned up most of your blood. And she used some magic to close your wound.</p><p></p><p>“So…I didn’t die?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, if we didn’t remove the javelin, you probably would have. Seemed too good a person to visit the fugue so soon.”</p><p></p><p>Kingsley stopped looking for the wound and looked at each of us, “Well…thank you. I owe you my—”</p><p></p><p>“No,” I said. “We’re even. Your warning probably saved us. So…why did you?”</p><p></p><p>He stood there thinking a moment before talking again, “I had been a house guard for about six years, and the last year had been strange for certain after Vicam arrived. Then…Nestra seemed to change. I put it out of my mind for a while, but when I saw you and the other fellow I knew something was going to happen. And something <strong><em>did</em></strong> but they wouldn’t say what. Had us search the rooms and the guests. Then the next night was even stranger.”</p><p></p><p>“How so?” Beepu asked.</p><p></p><p>“Well, I was downstairs, when the upstairs sergeant called for help. Then all of us were trying to break down the door to Nestra’s room. We finally made it through, and there was dirty smoke in the air, but nothing else. No one else. It was another guard that found the hidden door, and we all charged down the stairs only to be blocked in a room with another door. At that point some of us were told to go back upstairs and secure the house. Did that, got little sleep and then in the morning we were told to start looking for several guests. Her for certain, and you being the only gnome at the party, plus the other two men. I had no idea why, and I was just surprised to see you at all. You just didn’t seem the type to cause trouble. It didn’t feel right somehow,” he rambled, recalling the haze of the last several days.</p><p></p><p>“Well, Eragon—” I started</p><p></p><p>“Arakhan,” Beepu corrected.</p><p></p><p>“Right, Arakhan. He seemed to take it personally that you told us. Thank you.”</p><p></p><p>“Well…I’m glad I could…help.” Kingsley said, his face plainly looking like it needed to sort things out.</p><p>“It was a great help,” said Iesa who had crawled out from his tent. “After leading Arakhan around the docks for a bit, he clearly wanted to kill us. And I for one appreciate being alive.”</p><p></p><p>“I have to agree with you there; he wasn’t pulling hits with his sword. Probably would have bled right there if Myrai hadn’t of helped me,” Remarked Daneath.</p><p></p><p>I gamely shrugged, “Glad to help…we should try harder, so I don’t have to maybe?”</p><p></p><p>“So Kingsley,” Beepu started to ask. “Did you leave anyone behind?”</p><p></p><p>“Wha—oh no. Family passed away a while ago. Don’t have a wife or anything either,” he said, almost disappointedly.</p><p></p><p>“No one?” I said frowning. “I mean it could be worse, but somehow I don’t think you can go back to Yartar.”</p><p></p><p>“No…probably not.” He said glumly.</p><p></p><p>“Well cheer up! I can write you a letter of reference! This barge should continue up to Silverymoon. If you want you can go to my mother’s place there, and she can help you get established!” Said Beepu enthusiastically.</p><p></p><p>“R—really? You would that?”</p><p></p><p>I turned to look at Beepu, “You can do that?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, yes,” Beepu said waving his hand nonchalantly. “Least we can do. There was no way for Kingsley here to know that he would be, well ending his employment. So, it is the least I can do to get you restarted.”</p><p></p><p>I was surprised, and a little envious. I could only offer what I had. I didn’t have a family like Beepu. And have the confidence to offer what he did, with the certainty that his mother would help. The same offer that I had from Beepu for his father’s help. Beepu was not the easiest to get along with, but I wouldn’t ever say that he wasn’t generous.</p><p></p><p>“Well…thanks. That will help,” Kingsley said with some tears in eyes. “Now If you don’t mind, I’m starved…I need to…”</p><p></p><p>“Please! Don’t worry about it. It’s not your week to die, and perhaps the change will work out for the best” I said hopefully. And with that he started toward one of the tends, where some cheese and bread were already laid out.</p><p></p><p>“That’s generous of you,” said Daneath. “You are sure your mother will help?”</p><p></p><p>“Of course! No question at all!”</p><p></p><p>“Well, that’s good. Now, what do we do about Arakhan?” said Iesa.</p><p></p><p>“What do you mean?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>“Well…he might not give up easily. We might need to disguise ourselves at the next stop just in case.” Iesa said.</p><p></p><p>“Makes sense, but can you do it?” Daneath said.</p><p></p><p>“That could be challenging,” Beepu frowned.</p><p></p><p>“Bet I can,” Iesa said and then started looking at me. In fact, all three were.</p><p></p><p>“Wait…what? I can just cover up under a hood, right?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, that’s the first thing that a person searching for another looks for; someone trying to hide features.” Iesa said. “We’re going to have to do something about your hair.”</p><p></p><p>I felt defensive suddenly, “I…well…sure…I guess. Nothing permanent right?”</p><p></p><p>Iesa smiled, “No, not at all. But…I don’t know what to do with the eyes.”</p><p></p><p>Beepu was frowning, “Well…we could cover her eyes. As if she were blind.”</p><p></p><p>“Any magic you could use?” Daneath asked Beepu.</p><p></p><p>“My illusions would work only if she stood still. I will have to think of something else.”</p><p></p><p>“We have some time to figure it out right?” I asked, somewhat alarmed at the attention about how I looked.</p><p></p><p>“Well, we’ll need an idea by tomorrow, before we dock,” Daneath said.</p><p></p><p>“And what are you berks going to do? I mean he’s distinctive per Kingsley,” and I pointed at Beepu.</p><p></p><p>“Fake beard and a burlap sack. He keeps Foggle hidden,” Iesa replied, and Beepu shrugged and nodded without much fuss.</p><p></p><p>“And the Big D?”</p><p></p><p>“Fake mustache and braid his hair.”</p><p></p><p>I blinked,” And yourself?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, I was going to cut down my hair, so I had some for the beard, and darken my skin, and wear a hat.”</p><p></p><p>“A hat.” I less asked, than stated the obvious.</p><p></p><p>“Myrai, you are just very…distinctive. The gold and the eyes are dead giveaways.”</p><p></p><p>“I bet he doesn’t even show.” I said.</p><p></p><p>“Can we take the chance?” Daneath asked?</p><p></p><p>“I…I guess not. We’ll take care of it tomorrow I suppose.” I said defeated. Turning away to look at the passing water, I realized that it was an odd argument to have. It made sense that we might be looked for. So why was I putting up a stink about it?</p><p></p><p>Frowning I thought about it and I realized that deep down…I wanted to be distinctive. Like it or not it was me. I never wanted to hide who I was in the Gatehouse, in Sigil, or even when I first arrived a hood was fine. But the prospect that someone might actively look for me and I had to hide was uncomfortable.</p><p></p><p>The next morning found myself sitting down on the edge of the deck, with Iesa seated on a stool behind me. He was rubbing some smelly oil through my hair that he claimed would alter the color. He had already trimmed his hair down, and honestly it looked like an improvement. It was strange having another person work their hands through my hair like this. It actually felt a bit relaxing, as he gently pulled sections of my hair and coated it.</p><p></p><p>All the time I was thinking about my eyes. How could one disguise them? I sat and thought, and something then just fell into place. One of the incantations I knew could alter aspects of my voice and presence. Could I use that? As I thought about it, I decided it was worth a try.</p><p></p><p>“Iesa, what color is my hair turning out?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, I would describe it as coppery at the moment. It doesn’t really want to get much darker.”</p><p></p><p>“Ok,” and I remembered that green eyes worked well for that color, and I sat and thought about Beepu’s eyes. I then focused both light and dark energy, and painted magic over my eyes. I pulled out the mirror from my pouch and looked.</p><p></p><p>The hair was coppery alright; metallic copper but not as shiny as my natural gold. But my eyes were now a bright green. I focused a little and toned it down to be less vivid and after some trying had a look that I could live with.</p><p></p><p>As a red head I was going to be tolerable. But the first thing I discovered was that I had to constant put energy in keeping up the appearance. It just wouldn’t stick around for very long. The second thing I found out was that it was giving me a headache. At least I knew when the spell was working.</p><p></p><p>“Well, I’m about done.” Iesa said. “Hope I didn’t hurt you.”</p><p></p><p>“Same here, and no you didn’t.” I stood up on the deck turned to face Iesa, raising his chin as I bent down. His eyes locked with mine, and I watched his jaw drop and his eyes blink with surprise.</p><p></p><p>“How did you—”</p><p></p><p>“A bit of effort, even now. I need to actively keep it up. But I gather it works for you.” I said with a smirk.</p><p></p><p>“Looks good, what else could you want?”</p><p></p><p>“A wide brimmed hat obvious. This actually hurts to do.”</p><p></p><p>“I’ll keep an eye out.”</p><p></p><p>“Great. Are we the only ones getting off in Portstown?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, everyone else is travelling north past the ruins of Nesmé and eventually Silverymoon. That includes Kingsley.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, then we don’t have to explain to others leaving the boat then.”</p><p></p><p>“Nope. And hopefully this will be enough. Oh, before I forget here is some coin I owe you,” and he passed me a small bag of coin.</p><p></p><p>“From our findings?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes…minus some expenses.”</p><p></p><p>“Expenses? Like the orphans that were waving their hands at you as we left Yartar?”</p><p></p><p>“Ah…yes. I didn’t think anyone noticed.”</p><p></p><p>“I don’t think the others did. But I’m sure they could use the help,” I said approvingly.</p><p></p><p>“Well let’s get ready to leave.” Iesa said, clearly happy that the discussion on his soft spot was over.</p><p></p><p>It didn’t take long to get our meager things. Daneath was surprised at my new look, and his new braids screamed dwarf. Beepu looked like a poor gnome with a patchy beard and simply nodded at my new look. Foggle was hidden…somewhere. While Mo was bounding around the boat.</p><p></p><p>“Isn’t Mo somewhat distinctive?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, but I’ll carry him in my pack once he burns off some energy,” Iesa replied.</p><p></p><p>The barge was pulling toward the dock and the crew was getting ready to cast mooring lines to fasten the barge to the jetty. As this was going on, I took a moment to thank the captain for the journey. He looked at me and laughed, saying he wasn’t sure if he was drinking more now or before to have a missed a second woman on board.</p><p></p><p>Finally, we said our goodbyes to Kingsley. Beepu gave him a letter, and Iesa gave him some coin as well to “Help him get restarted.” Kingsley had tears in his eyes and simply said “Thank you.” I touched him and gave a simple blessing.</p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Bless Kingsley to live until his appointed time, </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>So, his deeds will live forever,</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>So be the will of my Lord, so when Death comes,</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>All will know his worth forever.</em></p><p></p><p>He looked at me and nodded and asked, “And when is my time?”</p><p></p><p>I shook my head, “It’s not for us to know. But I’m pretty sure it’s not today, and probably not tomorrow.”</p><p></p><p>“What about the day after?”</p><p></p><p>“Pretty good if you don’t annoy the captain.”</p><p></p><p>“I guess that will do. Thanks, Myrai.”</p><p></p><p>And with that final good bye, the four of us walked down the gangplank and stepped into Portstown.</p><p></p><p>So, if I ever said that I was disappointed in Triboar or Yartar, looking around I realized that indeed it could get worse. Portstown was optimistic in being called a town. It couldn’t be larger than twenty buildings, which would put it at half the size of Triboar. And it was far poorer, with most of the buildings in rough shape. Even calling the buildings, ‘buildings’ was a stretch in most cases. At least one was a burned-out shell and others ready to fall apart. The main road was a muddy track leading through the town. Few horses of any kind were visible hitched by the buildings, and only a few people were making their way around the town.</p><p></p><p>“Guys, other than Beepu and his sack, we’re going to stand out just on the virtue of the towns inhabitance being this poor.” I observed.</p><p></p><p>“That is why I chose this sack. It gives off the vibe of poor and unwashed. I learned that from ‘the Dirty One’ here.”</p><p></p><p>“Hey! I was in jail, they don’t give baths in jail.” Iesa said hurt.</p><p></p><p>“Can we move, I’ve got a large headache already,” I said resisting the urge to rub my temples.</p><p></p><p>“Whatever, we need to find that smith,” Daneath said, his patience already a bit thin. He was eager to get on the next step.</p><p></p><p>“Keep your ears open then,” I said and started down the main road, and the rest followed. Daneath stayed with me, and Beepu and Iesa stuck to each other on the other side of the street. As we made our way, we quickly found the local Inn, but also heard that distinctive sound of hammer on an anvil. Daneath and I looked at each other, nodded and made our way to the noise.</p><p></p><p>On the very edge of Portstown, stood a smithy. It was a large building, larger than I would have guessed for a town of this size. As we approached I whispered to Daneath.</p><p></p><p>“Let me go in first…I have some actual business I want done.”</p><p></p><p>“Business?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, an actual transaction. Once that is done, he might be more willing to talk. Wait for the others and see if anyone else is paying attention.”</p><p></p><p>“Sure, why not. It’ll let others catch up anyway.”</p><p></p><p>Nodding, I strode into the smithy.</p><p></p><p>It probably would have been dark for most eyes, as there wasn’t a light source anywhere, and most of the windows were shuttered. But to me, everything was brightly lit with no shadows at all. But what I saw on the walls surprised me. </p><p></p><p>Large weapons; huge axes and blades were fastened to the walls. They were hung above the reach of people, which told me these were trophies, and not items for sale. The walls otherwise had various tools, horseshoes, some weapons and shields. Standing tall at the anvil was a grey skinned half-orc. He didn’t wear a shirt or smock, and his chest was covered in scars from weapons and burns. He barely lifted his eyes to look at me as I entered.</p><p></p><p>“What did you want?” he asked simply in a deep gruff voice. His tone was what I expected, someone who talked when necessary.</p><p></p><p>“I’m looking to have some work done on a shield,” I said as I browse over the weapons that hung on racks on the side of the smithy. There weren’t a lot, but what was there was good quality.</p><p></p><p>“Work? The shield you are carrying barely looks used. What work could you need done?”</p><p></p><p>“I would rather the sign of my faith be on display for my friends…and foes to see.”</p><p></p><p>The half-orc snorted a moment, “So what, they fear you? That might be a stretch,” he said derisively. “So, what did you want on the front then?”</p><p></p><p>“A set of balance scales held aloft by a skeletal arm”</p><p></p><p>The half-orc looked up at me and stared, his eyes focusing on me. As he did so, I pulled out my holy symbol out from under my armor with the image I described.</p><p></p><p>“You aren’t what I would expect for a doomguide.” He said, looking at me carefully.</p><p></p><p>“Death can wear many guises. Why would his faithful…or acolytes be different?” I said with an edge of challenge in my voice.</p><p></p><p>“True enough. I have seen many battles and many deaths. And some are more pleasing than others. Did you have a preference on how it is done?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, if I had a day to have it done what could you do?”</p><p></p><p>“I’m not much for gilding, encrusting or untherin styles”</p><p></p><p>“Untherin?”</p><p></p><p>“It’s an eastern technique, where you make a dovetail channel and pound gold flush into it. There’s also fake Untherin which is a simple pattern that you hammer gold into. Works just as well. But it isn’t exactly scary, and it takes a week. But what I can do etch it and fill in spots with lampblack. Seems more fitting.”</p><p></p><p>“Alright, that sounds good. So, how about I buy a shield from you, and you etch it, and I pick it up tomorrow evening? You can take this one as part of the trade.”</p><p></p><p>“Ten gold then for the shield and work with the trade,” he said.</p><p></p><p>“Done,” and I pulled out a pouch from beneath my armor and removed five gold coins. “Half now in good faith with one small request.</p><p></p><p>He took the coins from my hand and looked at me quizzically. “Request?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes. On top of the business I have, my friend outside has some questions, and you might be able to answer.” I then turned and raised my voice to say, “Hey D!”</p><p>The half-orc frowned, “I’m no innkeep with rumors.” As Daneath came inside with the other two in tow.</p><p></p><p>“Well, thank you for your business. And I do hope you can help.” I said, and I looked at Daneath.</p><p>Daneath was taking in the trophies and tried to start off casually;</p><p></p><p>“So…wow, how much is that axe up there?” he said completely missing its importance.</p><p></p><p>“It’s not. Is that the question?” the half-orc growled.</p><p></p><p>“Uh…no. You see I am looking for someone and I was pointed your way by a mutual…acquaintance.”</p><p></p><p>“Not ‘friend.’ Who?” the Half-orc bluntly asked, clearly on edge.</p><p></p><p>“Leoras of Yartar.” Daneath said as nonchalantly as he could.</p><p></p><p>“Leoras. Not a friend. And why would he send you here?”</p><p></p><p>“Because you might know someone that can help me find someone else.”</p><p></p><p>“Know some people. Do you even know who you are looking for?” he replied, his arms crossed. His agitation was visible and clear in his voice.</p><p></p><p>“Someone with a tattoo.”</p><p></p><p>“Look. I don’t have time to play with words. I have a commission to do,” nodding at me, and turned to get a shield that hung from the rack nearby.</p><p></p><p>The headache was getting to me at this point, and my patience was running out. “D…show him.” I said simply pointing at my own arm.</p><p></p><p>Daneath looked at me a moment with a pained expression and then nodded. He rolled up his sleeve and exposed the snake tattoo on his arm. “This tattoo.”</p><p></p><p>The half-orc turned to look, and he looked like he was about to drop the shield as his eyes opened wide.</p><p></p><p>“No. I won't help you.” He said shaking his head slowly and with a touch of fear in his voice.</p><p></p><p>Daneath looked at Iesa with a puzzled look, and Iesa simply shrugged in surprise. Turning back to the half-orc.</p><p></p><p>“What? We need to talk to someone who has this mark. Why will you not—”</p><p></p><p>“Because,” he interrupted “I swore not to.”</p><p></p><p>“Please,” I appealed. “We’ve come a long way and its important. If there anything you can do…”</p><p></p><p>The smith thought for a long time, and finally nodded and raised a meaty hand. “I won’t lead you. I’ll tell you where to go. But I can’t guarantee you’ll…”</p><p></p><p>“Get what we want?” Iesa asked.</p><p></p><p>The half-orc turned to look at Iesa and said:</p><p></p><p>“Survive.”</p><p> </p><p><strong>Session notes:</strong></p><p></p><p>Ever notice that its hard to find French toast, or French bread, or wines from Burgundy in D&D? Well, you also can’t do Damascening either, which is a style of inlay used on armors. So Unther has now replaced Damascus. </p><p></p><p>Source of this type of stuff below:</p><p></p><p><a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/dect/hd_dect.htm" target="_blank">https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/dect/hd_dect.htm</a></p><p></p><p>2,781</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 7623134, member: 6971069"] [b]Entering Portstown Gingerly - 6/19/2019[/b] [CENTER][B]Entering Portstown Gingerly [/B] (And a special welcome to the folks who have shot my pageviews through the roof!) [I]My faith spends a lot of time with people preparing for the final days. Either their own, or someone close to them. [/I] [I]So, preparing someone to live is an uncommon experience. [/I][/CENTER] I was up relatively early the next morning, watching the sun rise. The last time I watched it was somewhere between Triboar and Yartar. It was still a novelty to me, and this seemed to be a great way to watch it. Sitting on a chair on the deck, doing essentially nothing but watching. I could look at the color of the sun, and the colors it painted across the landscape as it rose. Closing my eyes, I could see the light, and feel the beginning of warmth on my face. It was a peaceful indulgence. But truth be told, I was up, not because of the sun. It wasn’t even because I couldn’t sleep much myself, although that did have a small part in it. I was truly awake because I wanted to see Kingsley when he first woke. During the war in Sigil, there were many patients who after taking a grievous wound that weren’t the same. Most causes were obvious; a loss of a limb, or an eye were enough to break the spirits of a person not prepared to be a casualty. But there were others that while the wound healed, they didn’t [B][I]act[/I][/B] the same. Some were quiet, some were slow, and some were violent. The Gatehouse would often take in the last and keep them from others so they didn’t harm anyone. The others hopefully had family to care for them. I didn’t know where Kingsley might land. We didn’t know anything about him. Did he have family in Yartar? Anywhere near? What would he do now? Was his mind intact? Hopefully today we would know. I heard a soft groan from another tent and I turned my head hoping. But the quick hoot of Foggle, made it clear who was stirring. And not long after, Beepu crawled out of the tent that we had shared. He pulled himself upright and stretched. Seeing me he both yawned and waved. “Morning. I guess you slept well,” he remarked. “Well, once the three humans passed out on the deck I could think about it.” I said gesturing at the still forms by the table nearby. “Daneath and Iesa were up longer, still talking when I finally called it. Thanks for…being a gentlegnome last night?” “Oh well…yes. I do not take as much room as the others, so it only made sense. And besides I do have manners.” “Yes…yes you do.” “Ahem, any sign of the others?” I shook my head, “They were snoring right before sunrise. Saw Mo somewhere, probably looking for food or something.” And I looked behind Beepu at the tent that held Kingsley. “And nothing from our…friend yet.” “Yes. Quite the conundrum. Hopefully he can tell us a little more on what we left behind.” It was then I could a hear a groan from Kingsley’s tent. I pulled myself onto my feet and walked over to the closed tent. What I heard was some muffled whispering and frantic searching. Presently, the flap to his tent was flung aside and Kingsley, wild-eyed and confused emerged. He stood up and was starting to look around when I addressed him. “Are you feeling better Kingsley?” He turned to look at me with surprise. “I…well…I guess? I thought I was dreaming. But I don’t know what was dream and what was real.” Looking around for the first time his confusion continued, “I don’t quite know where I am for that matter.” “I’m told this is the River Surbrin, and you are heading north on a barge. What do you remember?” “Well…I…swore I was dead. I remember seeing you and the dark-haired fellow. And I…I was stabbed? Yes…I remember that. But—” he looked at the tunic he wore, that had a clear hole on the left side. But looked under it, clearly trying to find something else.” “Well, you did have a javelin sticking through your chest.” He looked puzzled, “But I don’t see a wound...or blood even.” “No, you would not,” Beepu said. “Between Myrai and I, we cleaned up most of your blood. And she used some magic to close your wound. “So…I didn’t die?” “Well, if we didn’t remove the javelin, you probably would have. Seemed too good a person to visit the fugue so soon.” Kingsley stopped looking for the wound and looked at each of us, “Well…thank you. I owe you my—” “No,” I said. “We’re even. Your warning probably saved us. So…why did you?” He stood there thinking a moment before talking again, “I had been a house guard for about six years, and the last year had been strange for certain after Vicam arrived. Then…Nestra seemed to change. I put it out of my mind for a while, but when I saw you and the other fellow I knew something was going to happen. And something [B][I]did[/I][/B] but they wouldn’t say what. Had us search the rooms and the guests. Then the next night was even stranger.” “How so?” Beepu asked. “Well, I was downstairs, when the upstairs sergeant called for help. Then all of us were trying to break down the door to Nestra’s room. We finally made it through, and there was dirty smoke in the air, but nothing else. No one else. It was another guard that found the hidden door, and we all charged down the stairs only to be blocked in a room with another door. At that point some of us were told to go back upstairs and secure the house. Did that, got little sleep and then in the morning we were told to start looking for several guests. Her for certain, and you being the only gnome at the party, plus the other two men. I had no idea why, and I was just surprised to see you at all. You just didn’t seem the type to cause trouble. It didn’t feel right somehow,” he rambled, recalling the haze of the last several days. “Well, Eragon—” I started “Arakhan,” Beepu corrected. “Right, Arakhan. He seemed to take it personally that you told us. Thank you.” “Well…I’m glad I could…help.” Kingsley said, his face plainly looking like it needed to sort things out. “It was a great help,” said Iesa who had crawled out from his tent. “After leading Arakhan around the docks for a bit, he clearly wanted to kill us. And I for one appreciate being alive.” “I have to agree with you there; he wasn’t pulling hits with his sword. Probably would have bled right there if Myrai hadn’t of helped me,” Remarked Daneath. I gamely shrugged, “Glad to help…we should try harder, so I don’t have to maybe?” “So Kingsley,” Beepu started to ask. “Did you leave anyone behind?” “Wha—oh no. Family passed away a while ago. Don’t have a wife or anything either,” he said, almost disappointedly. “No one?” I said frowning. “I mean it could be worse, but somehow I don’t think you can go back to Yartar.” “No…probably not.” He said glumly. “Well cheer up! I can write you a letter of reference! This barge should continue up to Silverymoon. If you want you can go to my mother’s place there, and she can help you get established!” Said Beepu enthusiastically. “R—really? You would that?” I turned to look at Beepu, “You can do that?” “Yes, yes,” Beepu said waving his hand nonchalantly. “Least we can do. There was no way for Kingsley here to know that he would be, well ending his employment. So, it is the least I can do to get you restarted.” I was surprised, and a little envious. I could only offer what I had. I didn’t have a family like Beepu. And have the confidence to offer what he did, with the certainty that his mother would help. The same offer that I had from Beepu for his father’s help. Beepu was not the easiest to get along with, but I wouldn’t ever say that he wasn’t generous. “Well…thanks. That will help,” Kingsley said with some tears in eyes. “Now If you don’t mind, I’m starved…I need to…” “Please! Don’t worry about it. It’s not your week to die, and perhaps the change will work out for the best” I said hopefully. And with that he started toward one of the tends, where some cheese and bread were already laid out. “That’s generous of you,” said Daneath. “You are sure your mother will help?” “Of course! No question at all!” “Well, that’s good. Now, what do we do about Arakhan?” said Iesa. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Well…he might not give up easily. We might need to disguise ourselves at the next stop just in case.” Iesa said. “Makes sense, but can you do it?” Daneath said. “That could be challenging,” Beepu frowned. “Bet I can,” Iesa said and then started looking at me. In fact, all three were. “Wait…what? I can just cover up under a hood, right?” “Well, that’s the first thing that a person searching for another looks for; someone trying to hide features.” Iesa said. “We’re going to have to do something about your hair.” I felt defensive suddenly, “I…well…sure…I guess. Nothing permanent right?” Iesa smiled, “No, not at all. But…I don’t know what to do with the eyes.” Beepu was frowning, “Well…we could cover her eyes. As if she were blind.” “Any magic you could use?” Daneath asked Beepu. “My illusions would work only if she stood still. I will have to think of something else.” “We have some time to figure it out right?” I asked, somewhat alarmed at the attention about how I looked. “Well, we’ll need an idea by tomorrow, before we dock,” Daneath said. “And what are you berks going to do? I mean he’s distinctive per Kingsley,” and I pointed at Beepu. “Fake beard and a burlap sack. He keeps Foggle hidden,” Iesa replied, and Beepu shrugged and nodded without much fuss. “And the Big D?” “Fake mustache and braid his hair.” I blinked,” And yourself?” “Well, I was going to cut down my hair, so I had some for the beard, and darken my skin, and wear a hat.” “A hat.” I less asked, than stated the obvious. “Myrai, you are just very…distinctive. The gold and the eyes are dead giveaways.” “I bet he doesn’t even show.” I said. “Can we take the chance?” Daneath asked? “I…I guess not. We’ll take care of it tomorrow I suppose.” I said defeated. Turning away to look at the passing water, I realized that it was an odd argument to have. It made sense that we might be looked for. So why was I putting up a stink about it? Frowning I thought about it and I realized that deep down…I wanted to be distinctive. Like it or not it was me. I never wanted to hide who I was in the Gatehouse, in Sigil, or even when I first arrived a hood was fine. But the prospect that someone might actively look for me and I had to hide was uncomfortable. The next morning found myself sitting down on the edge of the deck, with Iesa seated on a stool behind me. He was rubbing some smelly oil through my hair that he claimed would alter the color. He had already trimmed his hair down, and honestly it looked like an improvement. It was strange having another person work their hands through my hair like this. It actually felt a bit relaxing, as he gently pulled sections of my hair and coated it. All the time I was thinking about my eyes. How could one disguise them? I sat and thought, and something then just fell into place. One of the incantations I knew could alter aspects of my voice and presence. Could I use that? As I thought about it, I decided it was worth a try. “Iesa, what color is my hair turning out?” “Well, I would describe it as coppery at the moment. It doesn’t really want to get much darker.” “Ok,” and I remembered that green eyes worked well for that color, and I sat and thought about Beepu’s eyes. I then focused both light and dark energy, and painted magic over my eyes. I pulled out the mirror from my pouch and looked. The hair was coppery alright; metallic copper but not as shiny as my natural gold. But my eyes were now a bright green. I focused a little and toned it down to be less vivid and after some trying had a look that I could live with. As a red head I was going to be tolerable. But the first thing I discovered was that I had to constant put energy in keeping up the appearance. It just wouldn’t stick around for very long. The second thing I found out was that it was giving me a headache. At least I knew when the spell was working. “Well, I’m about done.” Iesa said. “Hope I didn’t hurt you.” “Same here, and no you didn’t.” I stood up on the deck turned to face Iesa, raising his chin as I bent down. His eyes locked with mine, and I watched his jaw drop and his eyes blink with surprise. “How did you—” “A bit of effort, even now. I need to actively keep it up. But I gather it works for you.” I said with a smirk. “Looks good, what else could you want?” “A wide brimmed hat obvious. This actually hurts to do.” “I’ll keep an eye out.” “Great. Are we the only ones getting off in Portstown?” I asked. “Yes, everyone else is travelling north past the ruins of Nesmé and eventually Silverymoon. That includes Kingsley.” “Well, then we don’t have to explain to others leaving the boat then.” “Nope. And hopefully this will be enough. Oh, before I forget here is some coin I owe you,” and he passed me a small bag of coin. “From our findings?” “Yes…minus some expenses.” “Expenses? Like the orphans that were waving their hands at you as we left Yartar?” “Ah…yes. I didn’t think anyone noticed.” “I don’t think the others did. But I’m sure they could use the help,” I said approvingly. “Well let’s get ready to leave.” Iesa said, clearly happy that the discussion on his soft spot was over. It didn’t take long to get our meager things. Daneath was surprised at my new look, and his new braids screamed dwarf. Beepu looked like a poor gnome with a patchy beard and simply nodded at my new look. Foggle was hidden…somewhere. While Mo was bounding around the boat. “Isn’t Mo somewhat distinctive?” I asked. “Yes, but I’ll carry him in my pack once he burns off some energy,” Iesa replied. The barge was pulling toward the dock and the crew was getting ready to cast mooring lines to fasten the barge to the jetty. As this was going on, I took a moment to thank the captain for the journey. He looked at me and laughed, saying he wasn’t sure if he was drinking more now or before to have a missed a second woman on board. Finally, we said our goodbyes to Kingsley. Beepu gave him a letter, and Iesa gave him some coin as well to “Help him get restarted.” Kingsley had tears in his eyes and simply said “Thank you.” I touched him and gave a simple blessing. [I] Bless Kingsley to live until his appointed time, [/I] [I]So, his deeds will live forever,[/I] [I] So be the will of my Lord, so when Death comes,[/I] [I] All will know his worth forever.[/I] He looked at me and nodded and asked, “And when is my time?” I shook my head, “It’s not for us to know. But I’m pretty sure it’s not today, and probably not tomorrow.” “What about the day after?” “Pretty good if you don’t annoy the captain.” “I guess that will do. Thanks, Myrai.” And with that final good bye, the four of us walked down the gangplank and stepped into Portstown. So, if I ever said that I was disappointed in Triboar or Yartar, looking around I realized that indeed it could get worse. Portstown was optimistic in being called a town. It couldn’t be larger than twenty buildings, which would put it at half the size of Triboar. And it was far poorer, with most of the buildings in rough shape. Even calling the buildings, ‘buildings’ was a stretch in most cases. At least one was a burned-out shell and others ready to fall apart. The main road was a muddy track leading through the town. Few horses of any kind were visible hitched by the buildings, and only a few people were making their way around the town. “Guys, other than Beepu and his sack, we’re going to stand out just on the virtue of the towns inhabitance being this poor.” I observed. “That is why I chose this sack. It gives off the vibe of poor and unwashed. I learned that from ‘the Dirty One’ here.” “Hey! I was in jail, they don’t give baths in jail.” Iesa said hurt. “Can we move, I’ve got a large headache already,” I said resisting the urge to rub my temples. “Whatever, we need to find that smith,” Daneath said, his patience already a bit thin. He was eager to get on the next step. “Keep your ears open then,” I said and started down the main road, and the rest followed. Daneath stayed with me, and Beepu and Iesa stuck to each other on the other side of the street. As we made our way, we quickly found the local Inn, but also heard that distinctive sound of hammer on an anvil. Daneath and I looked at each other, nodded and made our way to the noise. On the very edge of Portstown, stood a smithy. It was a large building, larger than I would have guessed for a town of this size. As we approached I whispered to Daneath. “Let me go in first…I have some actual business I want done.” “Business?” “Yes, an actual transaction. Once that is done, he might be more willing to talk. Wait for the others and see if anyone else is paying attention.” “Sure, why not. It’ll let others catch up anyway.” Nodding, I strode into the smithy. It probably would have been dark for most eyes, as there wasn’t a light source anywhere, and most of the windows were shuttered. But to me, everything was brightly lit with no shadows at all. But what I saw on the walls surprised me. Large weapons; huge axes and blades were fastened to the walls. They were hung above the reach of people, which told me these were trophies, and not items for sale. The walls otherwise had various tools, horseshoes, some weapons and shields. Standing tall at the anvil was a grey skinned half-orc. He didn’t wear a shirt or smock, and his chest was covered in scars from weapons and burns. He barely lifted his eyes to look at me as I entered. “What did you want?” he asked simply in a deep gruff voice. His tone was what I expected, someone who talked when necessary. “I’m looking to have some work done on a shield,” I said as I browse over the weapons that hung on racks on the side of the smithy. There weren’t a lot, but what was there was good quality. “Work? The shield you are carrying barely looks used. What work could you need done?” “I would rather the sign of my faith be on display for my friends…and foes to see.” The half-orc snorted a moment, “So what, they fear you? That might be a stretch,” he said derisively. “So, what did you want on the front then?” “A set of balance scales held aloft by a skeletal arm” The half-orc looked up at me and stared, his eyes focusing on me. As he did so, I pulled out my holy symbol out from under my armor with the image I described. “You aren’t what I would expect for a doomguide.” He said, looking at me carefully. “Death can wear many guises. Why would his faithful…or acolytes be different?” I said with an edge of challenge in my voice. “True enough. I have seen many battles and many deaths. And some are more pleasing than others. Did you have a preference on how it is done?” “Well, if I had a day to have it done what could you do?” “I’m not much for gilding, encrusting or untherin styles” “Untherin?” “It’s an eastern technique, where you make a dovetail channel and pound gold flush into it. There’s also fake Untherin which is a simple pattern that you hammer gold into. Works just as well. But it isn’t exactly scary, and it takes a week. But what I can do etch it and fill in spots with lampblack. Seems more fitting.” “Alright, that sounds good. So, how about I buy a shield from you, and you etch it, and I pick it up tomorrow evening? You can take this one as part of the trade.” “Ten gold then for the shield and work with the trade,” he said. “Done,” and I pulled out a pouch from beneath my armor and removed five gold coins. “Half now in good faith with one small request. He took the coins from my hand and looked at me quizzically. “Request?” “Yes. On top of the business I have, my friend outside has some questions, and you might be able to answer.” I then turned and raised my voice to say, “Hey D!” The half-orc frowned, “I’m no innkeep with rumors.” As Daneath came inside with the other two in tow. “Well, thank you for your business. And I do hope you can help.” I said, and I looked at Daneath. Daneath was taking in the trophies and tried to start off casually; “So…wow, how much is that axe up there?” he said completely missing its importance. “It’s not. Is that the question?” the half-orc growled. “Uh…no. You see I am looking for someone and I was pointed your way by a mutual…acquaintance.” “Not ‘friend.’ Who?” the Half-orc bluntly asked, clearly on edge. “Leoras of Yartar.” Daneath said as nonchalantly as he could. “Leoras. Not a friend. And why would he send you here?” “Because you might know someone that can help me find someone else.” “Know some people. Do you even know who you are looking for?” he replied, his arms crossed. His agitation was visible and clear in his voice. “Someone with a tattoo.” “Look. I don’t have time to play with words. I have a commission to do,” nodding at me, and turned to get a shield that hung from the rack nearby. The headache was getting to me at this point, and my patience was running out. “D…show him.” I said simply pointing at my own arm. Daneath looked at me a moment with a pained expression and then nodded. He rolled up his sleeve and exposed the snake tattoo on his arm. “This tattoo.” The half-orc turned to look, and he looked like he was about to drop the shield as his eyes opened wide. “No. I won't help you.” He said shaking his head slowly and with a touch of fear in his voice. Daneath looked at Iesa with a puzzled look, and Iesa simply shrugged in surprise. Turning back to the half-orc. “What? We need to talk to someone who has this mark. Why will you not—” “Because,” he interrupted “I swore not to.” “Please,” I appealed. “We’ve come a long way and its important. If there anything you can do…” The smith thought for a long time, and finally nodded and raised a meaty hand. “I won’t lead you. I’ll tell you where to go. But I can’t guarantee you’ll…” “Get what we want?” Iesa asked. The half-orc turned to look at Iesa and said: “Survive.” [B]Session notes:[/B] Ever notice that its hard to find French toast, or French bread, or wines from Burgundy in D&D? Well, you also can’t do Damascening either, which is a style of inlay used on armors. So Unther has now replaced Damascus. Source of this type of stuff below: [URL]https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/dect/hd_dect.htm[/URL] 2,781 [/QUOTE]
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