Session #3 (part I)
As Beorth watched a group of mourners shed their requisite and duly paid for tears at the graves of the rich, Malcolm pulled out his dirk and worked a good-sized stone out of the ground.
He rested the stone by his foot, pulled off his studded leather armor, and hefted the stone again.
“Ach, lessee how fir I cun throw this,” and with that he charged forward and tossed the rock so it landed only a foot or two from the base of the hill.
“Ya think ya cun throw a rock further than that?” Malcolm asked Kazrack.
“Perhaps,” answered the dwarf, “But for it to be fair I have to use the same rock.”
He walked down the hill to retrieve it.
At that moment, Jeremy began to dig for his own rock with his short sword.
“I need a smaller rock, I’m not as strong as you guys,” Jeremy said.
“Ach, ya need to use the same stone ta be far. The dwarf said it,” said Malcolm
Kazrack handed the stone to Jeremy, “Here ya go.”
Jeremy hefted the stone and then run forward with a deft flurry of his feet and launched it. It landed at least 8 or 9 feet further than Malcolm’s throw.
“Ach, pretty good. Lemme get it so Kazrack can try,” Malcolm went to retrieve the stone.
“What time of the day was it when you came here with Lalena?” Beorth asked Jana, still sticking to the topic at hand.
“Definitely later than it is right now,” she replied.
Malcolm passed the stone to the dwarf and he tossed it hard over his head. It landed a foot further than Jeremy’s throw. Malcolm looked annoyed.
“This is a place of rest and respect for the dead. You should not be throwing stones and playing games,” Beorth said.
“Ach, their dead, what do they care?” Malcolm called back from on his way to get the stone.
“Respect for the dead is as much for the living as it is for the dead themselves,” the paladin replied.
The skald returned with the stone.
“Well, I guess we are done here. The woman knows we are on to her and I guess it was not very likely that she’d return,” Kazrack said. “I have other things I’d like to do before we leave.”
“Yes, as do I,” Beorth said. “I guess we must leave this in the hands of the city guard.”
He noticed Malcolm hefting the rock again.
“Malcolm, I said that this is not the place for such games. I would prefer if you did not do that.”
“Aye, noted.” And with that he threw the rock with all his strength, and it landed a good foot further than Kazrack’s toss.
Beorth sighed and the others laughed.
The group decided to disperse and do the all the things they wanted to do before leaving aboard the Sea Cow that afternoon.
Malcolm took off with blazing speed calling for Jeremy to follow him, which the young Neergaardian did. However, at the gate to the city they were separated by the mob of peddlers entering the city, and Malcolm lost sight of his friend.
“Meet me at the marketplace!” he called out and continued there in a steady jog.
Meanwhile, as Beorth also returned to the Temple District (22) , Jana and Kazrack returned to the Slim Stiletto, so that the dwarf could drop off his equipment.
The only person that seemed to be awake was an older man with graying dark brown hair and a bushy mustache.
He did not reply to the two companions’ greeting.
“Excuse me, do you know where Deet or the Innkeep is?” Kazrack asked the man, who was tying to a large pack. He wore a longsword, and had a short spear strapped lengthwise to his bag.
The man did not answer. Kazrack stepped closer.
“Excuse me,” he said again.
The man did not even turn to face the dwarf, “Hell if I know. Probably sleeping.”
“You may leave your stuff in my room,” Jana offered, and up the stairs they went. As they walked past one open door they heard a very loud snoring. Kazrack looked into to see a chain shirt tossed casually on the floor, along with a belt holding a short and long sword. Jeremy’s sleeping form was face down on the bed, drooling on his pillow. Kazrack collected the blonde Neergaardian’s belongings and placed them neatly on the table and closed the door for him.
After dropping his stuff off in Jana’s room, Kazrack returned to his father’s smithy to do one last morning’s worth of work with them before leaving, perhaps forever. Meanwhile, Jana close the door to her room, and did not re-emerge for several hours.
After spending some time looking for Jeremy, even returning to the city gate to do so, Malcolm returned to the Slim Stiletto to find his friend asleep. He woke him to borrow some money and then went off to purchase a goat from a peddler he had run into while looking for his friend.
Malcolm returned with the purchased goat, to arrange a feast for him and his friends. He awoke poor Kamir and after having clubbed the goat to stun it and breaking it neck, hung it up for Kamir to gut and clean. Half-asleep and mumbling, the chubby boy complied.
The skald then impatiently waited for his friend Jeremy to awaken.
“Coom un, ah goot sum'thin' for oos ta do,” he said to the groggy warrior.
“What is it?” Jeremy asked, eating some of the goat the inn-keep had prepared for them.
“Have ya gotta bow?”
“I have a crossbow,” Jeremy answered. “What is this all about?”
“Maybe we cun barra a bow,” Malcolm replied. “I want ta shoot down the body hanging in the Temple District.”
And so they made their way there.
“Don’t ya think it’ll be dangerous?” Jeremy asked.
“Nah,” Malcolm replied. “We’re providing a service.”
---
Meanwhile, Beorth was composing a letter to Oneus the head monk of the monastery he was currently warden of, explaining why he had to leave.
He tidied up the place a bit
Beorth then went to the Library of Thoth (23) to say goodbye to his only real friend in the city – Levekt, an elderly priest of the knowledge god.
Beorth was allowed in and told where his elderly friend could be found arranging the herbology section. The holy warrior walked past shelves and shelves of books, knowing he was forbidden to touch even one. (24)
“Father, I have come to tell you that I must leave the city,” Beorth said in his normal quiet manner that need not be toned down one bit for the quiet expected in the library.
The old man was stooped and struggled with the large and dusty books.
“Why is this?” he rasped.
“It is either stay and be imprisoned for being a Black Islander, or go to war, which I neither want to do, or would be allowed to do because I am a Black Islander. It is time for me to seek my fortune elsewhere, and fulfill the will of Anubis wherever that might take me.”
“Aye, well there comes a time that every boy becomes a man and must strike out on his own, and your path is a worthy one. Just remember one thing, lad. . . “
“What is that?”
“Write everything down!”
Beorth allowed himself a chuckle and smile.
“There are great experiences to be had out in the world and things to be learned that many can profit from if it is recorded,” the old man said with coughing glee.
“I will bring back a book for you,” Beorth said, not sure himself if he meant it or was being polite.
“I wish I had some gift to give you - something to help you on your way.”
“Your good wishes are enough, father.”
“I will go to the Wayhouse of Ptah and give an offering in your name for safe journey.”
“Thank you, Levekt.” They quickly shook hands; the old man never being one to show emotion.
“Good luck, and be careful,” the old man said, and Beorth returned to the monastery.
The holy warrior went over his list of things left to do in his mind, and was so deep in thought he did not notice the body was being removed from the tower of the Red God of the West’s temple. Instead, he went inside and after a mid-day prayer decided to inter the paladin’s head, even if he had to accept failure at retrieving the body. However, before he could do that, he heard the bell at the monastery gate.
Washing his hands quickly, the young warrior hurried upstairs to the gate to find four guards bearing a litter covered in a white sheet. An attractive young woman in black hair, in a red headband and white robes stood before them at the gate.
“Beorth, is it?” the woman asked. Beorth recognized her as one of the local Medicus of Fallon.
He nodded his head.
“I think we have met briefly before. I am Marta of Fallon. I was hoping you could help us,” the woman said gesturing to the guards holding the litter, and sweating profusely in the late summer heat.
“You have a body for me to inter?” Beorth asked.
“Yes, the Horus-Son that was left to rot against the Temple of the Red God the West. We were able to negotiate a compromise with them. They realize that their continued survival in this city and nation requires that they cooperate at least in part to keep the peace even with those that feel serve demons.”
“You negotiated with them to retrieve the body?” Beorth gave a thin-lipped smile. “That is good news. Of course, I will attend to the body. Thank you. Thank you. Anubis and Fallon both be praised.”
Beorth opened the gates to allow the medicus and guards into the monastery grounds.
“It is fortuitous that you came now, for I will be leaving this very day,” Beorth said to Marta.
“Are you going to war?” she asked.
“No, to Derome-Delem.”
“I am the only one of my brethren of the temple who has remained behind. The rest have gone to heal the wounded on the field of battle,” Marta said, with only a hint of envy.
“We all must do our duty where it lies, my lady,” Beorth said.
“Call me Marta.”
--
At that moment Malcolm and Jeremy arrived at the Temple District to find the body had been removed. Malcolm frowned with disappointment.
--
After interring the body in the lower crypts of the monastery, Beorth walked over to the headquarters of City Guard by the gate to the noble district to see Captain Runwick.
The captain was busy with a great deal of paperwork.
“I just wanted to inform you Captain, that we were unable to discover the herb woman, Lalena – the alleged desecrator of graves,” Beorth said calmly.
“Uh, okay,” the Captain said looking up from his papers. “Well, we have her name and where she lives, we can bring her in for questioning and pressure some answers out of her.”
“Um, okay,” Beorth said, nervously.
Runwick continued looking through his papers, “You’re name’s Beorth, right?”
“Yes,” the paladin answered.
“Hmm, I could have sworn I saw your name around here somewhere. Something about questioning you for something.”
Beorth felt a fat drop of sweat pour down his face.
“Detaining? Questioning? Something? What was it? Maybe I’m wrong. . “ He looked through his papers for a proper clue.
“Well, if you need me, you know where I’ll be,” Beorth said.
“Yes, I’m sure it is not so important,” the Captain of the Guard said to him looking straight at him.
With that, the young holy warrior returned to the monastery to retrieve his gear and meet the group of would-be dragon-slayers at the Slim Stiletto.
--
At the inn that served as Crumb’s headquarters of recruitment, the boys were having their last meal in Verdun. As Chance played a last game of darts against some of the others (losing as badly as he had won before), Jeremy, Kazrack, Malcolm and Jana enjoyed some of the goat Malcolm had purchased. Of course, a severely fatigued Kamir was busy running about bringing people’s packs downstairs for them (after having helped to pack them) and serving them their lunch.
As Kamir served a tray full of bowls of stew to one table, he passed by the table where the three “dark” fellows sat. There was the tall and broad “loud” one, the medium-build “handsome” one and the short skinny, kind of ugly, “quiet” one – Kamir walked past and the tall one blatantly set out his foot, sending Kamir flying face first to the floor, hot stew and shards of ceramic bowls accompanying him.
“Watch it ya clumsy idiot,” the tall, loud one said. “Ya touched my foot!” He guffawed. The place erupted in laughter.
Kamir began to clean up the pieces of bowl place them on the tray, still down on all fours. He began to apologize profusely, his words garbled by the lump in his throat.
Kazrack came over and began to help him clean it up.
“That is awfully big of you, picking on someone weaker and smaller than you are to puff yourself up,” the dwarf said looking up at the tall man.
“Well, from your height everyone must look pretty big. Huh, stumpy?”
Kazrack paused and glared.
“It’s okay Mr. Dwarf, it was my fault,” said Kamir. “Really, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“You can’t let other people push you around, Kamir,” Kazrack said to the boy.
“I hope that by coming along I can help to slay the dragon and become brave like you guys, and maybe a hero, too,” the pathetic lad added. This also gave Kazrack pause.
“Ha! Cowardly little one has nothing to say,” the tall one said loudly.
Malcolm walked over and stood behind Kazrack, who stood and face the man, who also stood. He towered over both the dwarf and skald.
“Looks like another little one has come to join the fray,” the man said referring to Malcolm.
“Listen to me,” Kazrack said calmly. “I know you won’t do anything because we are contracted to not brawl, and I won’t be baited into breaching the contract either. So why don’t you keep to yourself and shut up.”
The man leaned forward with a half-step, his fists clenched and his chest puffed, his shirt rippling in time with the muscles beneath.
“Devon!” the medium-build man said sharply. “Leave it be. Sit down.”
And so, pausing to look back at the dwarf and the skald with a sneer, the man named Devon, sat down and resumed his hushed conversation with his own companions.
“Thank you. Thank you for your help,” Kamir said. ‘But I got it, it’s okay. No problem.”
The dwarf placed the last bits of bowl he had scooped up and dropped them on the tray, as Kamir stood and ran back towards the kitchen.
“Kamir, hurry up with more stew!” another of Crumb’s boys yelled from across the common room.
“We’re gonna help that boy,” Kazrack said to himself.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes
(22) Remember, the market is found within the Temple District of Verdun.
(23) Thoth is the God of Knowledge, Law and Magic.
(24) Research at a Library of Thoth costs upwards of 300 silver pieces per day.
And recollect some of the earlier people, place and things that are being recalled in the current story hour thread.
