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Message: <blockquote data-quote="el-remmen" data-source="post: 65893" data-attributes="member: 11">Session #7 (part III)Balem, the 19th of EseThe wooden wheels turned and the day was spent walking and riding westward, up and down hills, until finally a hill seemed to go up and never come back down, and a moderate forest filled the eyes in to the north, south and west. By mid-morning, the woods open up to reveal a small town of log buildings along the side of wide river that cut a deep trench in the land. The trees of the forest still clung close to the edge of this pimple of civilization. As the wagons turned southward, seeking out a place to make camp, Crumb’s boys saw two men walking with a huge elk hanging from a stout stick they carried on their ssdahoulders. They wore long coats of fur, leather work pants, and hats made of raccoon and beaver. Walking along beside them was a young boy of about eight years, similarly attired, carrying the corpses of three rabbits tried to string. The town’s one street was made of a dusty packed dirt, and a stone bridge, could be seen across the entrance to the town, with covered turrets facing to the north and south (as the river ran). The wagons came to a clearing along the muddy riverbank, and Crumb’s boys began to make camp, Kamir doing most of the work as usual. Even as they set their tent stakes into the ground and gathered what wood they could find, Crumb’s boys noted an odd smell coming from the river. At first it was subtle, but as the wind changed to come from the northwest, it became almost too much to bear. Beorth recognized it immediately. It was the smell of death. Beorth and Ratchis walked down to the river to find the source of the stench and when they arrived it was all too obvious. All along the river bank, for about 100 yards in each direction north and south, was a chaotic collection of wooden spikes and stakes pointing towards the river. The sharpened wood ranged from the thickness of large tree branches, to smaller stakes, but impaled on these were countless corpses in varying states of decay. The whole area was splattered with blood and gore and bits of cloth. Some of the bodies were nothing more than bleached bones, but others looked only a week or two old, their faces bloated and purple. Rats scurried about munching on their flesh, and crows and gulls hopped from corpse to corpse pecking out eyeball, tugging on revealed entrails. The dead men were dressed in clothing one might expect of sailors; billowy sailcloth shirts, and short pants and kerchiefs. Broken spears and rusted sabres could be seen littered among the corpses. Beorth stumbled backward, overwhelmed by the sight of so many bodies dishonored in such a way. He covered his face with one hand and let out a long breath. “Anubis, give me strength,” he muttered, and the turning to Ratchis he said, “Something must be done about this.” The party gathered and discussed the situation. Beorth knew he could not let such an affront to Anubis pass, and yet he knew that the people of this town might not look kindly on his interference. They agreed to head into town after the mid-day meal and find someone in charge to talk to about the problem. As Crumb’s boys gathered to get their bowl full of stew, Crumb coughed to get their attention. “Welcome to the town of Stonebridge,” he said in his usual basso. “Let me tell you all, that this is kind of a rough place and it is best if you boys stay away from town. We have traveled far and to be honest, the easiest part of our journey is behind us. When we leave here, after three or four days of rest, we will be traveling along narrow trails, up hills and into the mountains. While we are here, see Deet about getting a small stipend for buying some winter gear for the journey, and I will send Horung and Kinney to get some good food and drink so we can celebrate all we have accomplished so far.” “I wonder why he wants us to stay away from town,” mused Kazrack aloud as he, Ratchis, Chance, Beorth, Jana and Jeremy did just that. “Isn’t it obvious?” said Jeremy with exasperation. “The people here impale people on stakes by the river and let them rot!” The six of them came to the town’s one thoroughfare, lined with log houses on both sides, except for one large building of white brick. It was across from what was obviously a tavern that hung a painted sign of a dead pirate with six crows atop him pecking at his corpse. The avoided that place and went to the white brick building and knocked on the thick oaken door. A middle-aged man, his hair already showing streaks of white answered the door. He looked the collection of people outside of his door up and down. “Well met,” said Beorth. “Well met,” said the man. “Are you looking for a room? We have vacancies.” “Oh, this is an inn? No, we were jut looking for who’s in charge around here. Who is your Lord?” Beorth asked. “We don’t have a lord,” the man replied. He looked over Beorth’s shoulder at Ratchis and wiped a bit of spit from the corner of his mouth. He then glanced down at Kazrack. “We have a marshal that runs the place. But I’m not sure you want to talk to him.” “Why not?” asked Beorth. “He is not a very talkative fellow, but maybe Kennoch the priest of Ra could help you. His house, I mean, the temple is right next door.” The man pointed up the street. “Thank you very much,” Beorth said. “And if you do need rooms feel free to return,” the man said and closed the door. They walked over to a smaller house nearby, made of logs, but with a slate roof, unlike the thatched or log roofs of most of the buildings in town. Upon the door painted in gold, was the symbol of Ra. Again, Beorth knocked. There was no answer at first, so Beorth knocked again, this time louder. The door swung open suddenly, and there was a man in his mid-twenties; his head was clean shaven, and he had a chain shirt hastily donned, in one hand he held a mace and had a shield strapped to his forearm. “Are the pirates attacking?” he said, excitedly. He looked surprised to see Beorth and the others standing before his door. “Um, no,” replied Beorth. “We have come to speak to you about the bodies on the river bank.” “Oh, you must excuse me. Few people come to see me unless we are under attack, which is a shame, but the reality of this harsh place,” the man said, his face relaxing into a smile, his face has the creases of one who had been chubby, but who had become lean with time. They could tell now that he has the slightest hint of a Wallbrookian accent. “Come inside. I am Kennoch of Ra. This is my home, but it is also the house of Ra, all are welcome.” He stepped inside and gestured for the others to follow. He slipped off his chain shirt and hung it on the wall with his mace. The far wall across from the door was a shrine dedicated to the Sun God, with a golden statue of the hawk-headed King of the Gods upon his barge. Two plain wooden benches lined the left and right walls, and a plain wooden door beside the altar led to a room behind. Kennoch went over to the hearth and tossed some sticks on the fire. “Would anyone like tea?” he asked. “I would be delighted,” said Beorth. “Uh, okay,” said Jeremy. Kennoch hung a teapot over the fire, and turned to the group. “So, what are your names and what are you doing in Stone Bridge?” The six companions introduced themselves and explained about the trip to Gothanius, and then Beorth asked, “You mentioned pirates; are those the bodies of pirates by the river?” “Yes,” answered Kennoch. “The Tall Twin River Pirates are a foul and Set-lovin’ bunch who use the river for their smuggling and slaving operation. They are a constant thorn in the side of the people of Stonebridge, taking slaves, setting fire to the houses, stealing their hard-earned crops and furs. The people of Stonebridge hate them and rightly so. It is for that reason that the bodies are hung up on the riverbank to show all the pirates what happens to those who come here to pillage and kill. Every man, woman and child here can fight better than many warriors I have seen back in Wallbrook and Herman Land.” “But this goes against our ways of burial and the treatment of the Dead, no matter who they might have been in life, as set down by Anubis,” said Beorth, his voice soft and solemn. “I know,” said Kennoch, pouring tea into cups for his guests. “But these are a hard and proud people and only recently have a I come to them with the word of Ra. It will take time before they will learn how wrong their acts are. It is only by virtue of my being able to help defend the town that I have earned the respect of any of them.” “You help them fight?” Beorth asked. “Well, they ARE pirates and law-breakers, setites, what else would I do?” “Well, I don’t think I can let such a thing continue if I can help it,” said Beorth. “Do you know whom I might speak to in town to get permission to collect these bodies and lay them to rest?” “Well, there is the Marshal Harrick Moonglum, but I do not think he would be much help. He is a man of few words and short temper - Do not ever disturb him when he is drinking! - He will not even talk to strangers, but I have been able to say a few things to him lately, perhaps I can speak on your behalf, and see if he will discuss the problem with you at least.” “We would greatly appreciate that,” said Beorth. “But I have to tell you again, the people of Stonebridge are proud and independent people. They even refused the offer of the dwarves of the Nauglimir Dwarven Merchant Consortium to build the town walls to fend off the pirates.” “They were offered Dwarven walls and they refused?” Kazrack said in disbelief. “Aye,” replied Kennoch. “The deal was for a safehouse (66)   to be built here, but the people of Stonebridge do not want interference from the dwarves. They want to live free of all responsibilities to anyone but themselves. They suffer the pirates as the cost of their freedom.” Ratchis shuffled restlessly in his seat. “The marshal holds his title because he is the best fighter and smartest leader against he pirates, but if another came and could best or kill Harrick, he would become the marshall and the people would follow him until a stronger leader came along. These people have yet to learn some of Ra’s basic lessons,” Kennoch said. “I will go try to find him in his home in the woods north of here, but a half mile away. He is a furrier. If you like, wait for me at the Sign of the Six Crows and I will come and tell you what he said.” So Beorth and the others went to the tavern across the way, as Kennoch took up his shield and mace agai, and took a path out of the north side of the town’s only street into the woods. The Sign of the Six Crows was dark and had a floor of hard earth and long wooden tables and benches. There was however one small table with one chair in the center of the room. A grizzled man, looking old beyond his years and wearing a broad scar on his chin was cleaning the mugs. “Eh? Well met,” he croaked. The party ordered some mead, and then the barkeep went out back “to tend to some business” and said he’d be right back. A few minutes later, a tall man dressed in studded leather armor, with a brown bear fur cloak and a beard to match, and having a hand axe and a longsword on his belt walked in the tavern. He had steel blue eyes, and while shoulders were broad, the rest of his body was lithe, but muscular. Without pausing he stepped behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass and then took a seat at the lone table in the center. He filled the glass up to the top with the whiskey and downed it quickly, and then poured another. This one he sipped more slowly. Not once did he address or even acknowledge the presence of the party. “I bet that’s the marshal,” Kazrack whispered to Jeremy. The swing doors creaked again, and this time the flamboyant form of Garcon came through. “Oh, ho! Here are my stalwart companions and worthy friends, retiring to the comfort of the village tavern for a drink and a bite. I shall join them!” Garcon walked over to the group, sitting next to Jana. “Oh, such a vision of loveliness we have here that even this simple rustic tavern becomes beautiful in the light of her glow,” Garcon said, taking her hand and planting a sloppy kiss as she pulled it away. Chance growled softly. “Oh, but yes,” said Garcon, pulling out an atomizer and spraying himself with cologne. “We should not flaunt the connection we have, envious eyes turn cruel!” He put away his perfume and clapped his hands. “Barkeep, please bring me your finest wine!” The barkeep had just stepped back in, and Kazrack and Jeremy got up and moved away from Garcon, taking spots at the bar. “We have mead,” the barkeep said in a flat voice. “Yes, well, that will have to do then,” said Garcon. “What a simple people!” “You have to come and get it!” the barkeep called. “Yes, of course. How quaint. And of course, refill the drink of the lovely lady,” Garcon said, getting up. He paused by Beorth. “Excuse me dear fellow, I do seem to be a bit short, could you perhaps lend me a copper or two until the next time we stop somewhere?” Beorth smirked and handed him a few coins. “Thank you my dear sir. You re truly blessed by the gods!” ------------ “Excuse me,” Kazrack asked the barkeep. “But do you know who that is there?” The dwarf gestured to the guy drinking the whiskey by himself. “That there’s the marshal, but do yourself and me a favor both, and don’t bother him when he’s drinking, he doesn’t like it,” the barkeep said. “Okay, we just wanted to talk to him about giving the bodies by the river a decent burial,” said Kazrack. “Why the hell wouldja wanna do something like that for?” the barkeep said with surprise. “Those pirate bastards deserve anything they get. They killed my sister, and I killed the one that done it, and I was happy to see the crows pecking out his eyes, I tell ya. That is how I got the name of me place!” He wiped a bit of spittle from the corner of his mouth, a fire seemed to blaze in his eyes. “Anyway, that kind of talk will only make the marshal real angry, and I’ve seen him take on and kill six men by himself, so I wouldn’t really wanna make him mad if I was you.” “He killed six men by himself? At once?” Kazrack looked over his shoulder at the marshal. “I’m sure he did,” said Jeremy. “Every town has one of those, some guy that no one else can beat and who can beat a handful of people without breaking a sweat. Back home, it’s old Greavey.” The marshall drained the last of the whiskey and walked out.--- “So tell me about your grand adventures I have heard you have been doing? Can you use a sword? We could be a heroic dueling couple who fight for justice and the oppressed! I could teach all the skills that I have mastered with my weapons. I can be shockingly violent, but do not be frightened for with you I would be a gentle as a lamb,” Garcon batted his eyelashes innocently. Jana sighed. Jeremy walked out of the tavern after the marshal. He waited in the cover of the doorway until he saw the tall man turn around the corner and then he crept after him. The marshal stepped into the thick woods behind the tavern, and Jeremy decided not to follow. He went back into tavern and had another drink. Not too long after, Kennoch came walking in. He greeted the barkeep, who grunted and walked over to where Beorth was sitting. “I could not find the marshal. He was not at his home, or nearby,” said the young priest of Ra. ”I think he was just here,” said Beorth, but we were not sure and did not want to disturb him.“Good idea. It is best if you are introduced before you try to talk to him, otherwise it can only hurt your cause,” said Kennoch. “Why don’t you return to your camp and I will continue to look for him. Return in the morning for dawn prayer to Ra and I will tell you what he said then.” It was agreed and while Ratchis, Jana, Chance, Kazrack and Jeremy went back to camp, Beorth crossed the bridge and sitting on the opposite river bank went without a meal, and prayed for the souls those left out to rot, which is what filled his vision from where he sat. Kazrack brought him a bedroll, blanket and a bite to eat, fearing that he might stay there all night in the cold.--- The afternoon waned, and soon the sheep that Horung and Kinney had been slow roasting on a spit was ready to be eaten. A mash of cranberries was boiling over another fire, and finally Crumb and Deet arrived rolling kegs of ale for all the boys. A cheer went up. This would be the best meal they had in a long time. The mood was one of gaiety and the smell of roast mutton and overflowing ale covered even the nearby stench of death (and the fact that the wind had changed again also helped). Kazrack fetched his fiddle and began to play a tune and soon Chance had joined in on his harmonica and the boys were dancing happily in circles, and clapping and singing. Finn Fisher stood by the Wallbrookian and the dwarf and stomped his foot and clapped his hands to keep time. The ale flowed freely, and between songs Kamir bought mugs of it to the musicians (and during songs he ran back and forth filling Devon’s mug for him).During this time Beorth simply sat on the opposite river bank and prayed, but as it got dark he cross the bridge and came back to camp. The festivities he found did little to ease his troubled heart, but even as he headed to the tent he and Kazrack shared, the song was interrupted. Gwar came crashing out of the bushes, his shirt was torn and blood poured down from a wound on his right shoulder. “Somebody attacked me!” he cried. Ratchis came running over, “What happened?”“I was peeing, over in the bushes where we all do our business and some guy comes tumbling out of the dark. He must been drunk because he was weaving here and there, and I look back up and he’s right there and grabs me and bites me! He took a chunk out! Look!”Jana came over to deal with Gwar’s injury, but Ratchis just grabbed his staff and went running in the direction Gwar had indicated. Beorth followed, but being still in his armor, moved slower. Chance just kept playing harmonica, and Jeremy by this time was very drunk and crawling into his tent to get his sword, slipped down on his stomach and passed out. Kazrack handed his fiddle to Finn and ran behind the two of them as well.Ratchis crashed through the brush towards where the latrine had been dug and saw the outline of a stumbling figure. He wore a white shirt, and short pants and seemed to be mumbling to himself. The figure moved closer with sudden a quickness and reached towards Ratchis. He could now see that the flesh of this person was a rotten blue and grey. The skin was bubbled and bloated, peeled back in places where insects crawled around on raw flesh. One eyeball was turned inward, and his skull bore the cleave of an axe. Ratchis readied his staff , as it lurched forward to grab him with its blackened fingernails.End of Session #7---------------------------------------------------------Notes:(66) The Nauglimir Dwarven Merchant Consortium uses “safehouses” as places to store wares, rest caravans and give shelter to traveling dwarves.</blockquote>

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