Session #73
Isilem, the 9th of Quark – 565 H.E.
“Roland might be unreliable, but he is still trustworthy, if you understand the difference I am getting at,” Mercy said.
Kazrack, Ratchis, and Martin were having an early dinner with their cohort, Dorn and Ratchis’ fellow friar, Mercy, in a dim corner of the Inn of Friendly Flame. The day before, Kazrack had finally finished his masterwork full plate mail armor and his priestly training, and he paid for a round in celebration.
Outside, the middle of summer blazed on and there seemed to be few places in Nikar’s exposed plateaus where the withering sun could be avoided. Martin and Ratchis’ training had finished a day or two earlier, and preparations had started for the long overland journey back to Gothanius. However, when they sent word to Roland to inform him there was no reply. Martin the Green visited the Temple of Bast and was told that the priest had left town a day or so earlier, saying he had to take care of business.
“But he could be charmed,” Ratchis said. “We told him everything. He has information that if used against us could be deadly.”
“There is nothing we can do about it now,” Kazrack said. “The question is, do we wait for him to return?”
“We have no idea where he is or what he is doing, or even if he will be back,” Ratchis replied. “We leave as scheduled.”
The others agreed.
“I can always send him after you if he returns after you’ve left,” Mercy offered.
“I am going to scout the ways of out of town and see if I can pick up his trail,” Ratchis said. “Just to see if I can figure out where he might have been headed.”
“I sent word by faultless to Alexandra the Lavender not too long after we arrived in Nikar,” Martin said. (1) “I was hoping to hear from her by now. In fact, I hoped she might even come herself so we might discuss the situation and get her advice.”
“We have to plan as if we were on our own,” Ratchis said. “Because we are…”
“Well, I will send another message, this one to Daniel, the castle-steward, to let him know we are returning, and about our run-in with Rindalith.” (2)
“Maybe you shouldn’t mention our return,” Ratchis suggested.
“I am just afraid our absence has been noted and we might be in violation of our contracts,” Martin said.
“I can live with that,” Ratchis replied.
Kazrack shrugged his shoulders.
“After we are done here, let’s go take care of whatever last minute purchases and preparations we have to make and then meet back here to discuss what kinds of spells we are going to prepare while on the road,” Ratchis suggested.
Kazrack nodded, and poured most of a mug of mead down his throat, the rest was soaked into his beard, now sporting more rune-covered ceramic and stone beads woven into it.
“Well, I plan to prepare the spell of Detect Scrying daily,” Martin said. “I have enough components to do it every day and it’ll last nearly two months. I figured that as we get closer to the time for the entrance to the Maze to be revealed, we can afford even less to be spied upon by Richard or anyone else.”
Ratchis went to the bar and get another flagon of ale for the table. The common room was empty except for two old-timers at the far end of the bar nursing their ales, and a young man leaning in and speaking with Huggert over the bar. He was not sitting, and threw Ratchis a suspicious glance as the half-orc approached.
“Why are you looking for him? You don’t have some kind of grudge against him and his folks, do ya?” the inn-keep was asking.
“No,” the young man slid a small stack of silver coins across the bar. “I was sent by a member of his order to help him.”
“Okay, because we don’t want people taking care of their dirty laundry around here, if you get my meaning,” Huggert did not sound convinced, but he took the silver. “Maybe, you tell me what you want and I’ll pass the message to him. Tell me where I can tell him to find you.”
“I guess I’ll be staying here,” the young man looked around, as if the place did not hold to his standards in some way. “If the watch-mage is here, I guess I will run into him eventually.”
Ratchis ordered the drinks and looked over at the young man once again. Huggert looked back and forth and then pointed to the half-orc.
“You should speak to this man,” Huggert said, and then turned to Ratchis. “If this is trouble you’d better take it out of town.”
“You know Martin the Green?” the young man asked. He could not keep a look of disgust from washing over his face as he took in Ratchis.
“Who’s asking?” Ratchis grunted.
The young man frowned. His hands went to his belt where long sword was hung low and peace-knotted and long nasty-looking dagger was tucked into it as well.
“I am Logan Naismith,” the young man said, not offering a hand. “I was sent by Alexandra the Lavender, a member of his order.”
Logan had the olive skin, square jaw and lean stature of a Herman-Lander. He was a few inches shorter than six feet tall, and had close cropped black curls on his head. The few mousy whiskers on his chin showed his youth, but Ratchis saw something in his brown eyes that seemed wizened by experience. Logan wore travel-stained black studded leather armor, and had dropped his pack by the door.
“You have a letter?” Ratchis asked.
Logan hesitated. “No… But I have things she told me that she said only he and she would know,” he finally said.
Ratchis sized up the young man for another half-minute and then gestured with his chin for him to follow. Half way back to the table, the half-orc stopped and looked down at Logan.
“I’m called Ratchis, by the way, and if this is a trick I promise you will regret it.”
Logan Naismith smirked and rolled his eyes, but nodded.
Logan joined them and while he begged off at first when offered some food, he ate hungrily after he finally accepted. He spoke with them while dunking thick slabs of bread in tomato soup; a wedge of cheese half-melted in it.
“I have come to Derome-Delem from Teamsburg,” Logan said.
“Teamsburg? That’s Neergaard?” Martin asked.
“No, Herman Land,” Logan lowered his head and slurped soup from the bowl.
“Oh, that Teamsburg,” Martin said, his voice filling with pity. (3)
“So you just happened to have come to Derome-Delem all the way from Herman Land? Or were drawn here by the promises of the King of Gothanius like everyone else?” Ratchis asked, oblivious to the significance.
“I came here to visit a friend of my father,” Logan replied. “Alexandra the Lavender.”
“Who is your father?” Martin asked.
“Allistair the Coal, watch-mage of Teamsburg,” Logan said.
“Are you a mage?” Martin’s brow furrowed.
“No, my brother is an alumnus,” Logan said. “The Academy was not for me.”
The barmaids had started their shift, and one of them brought round another tray full of mugs and pitchers of mead, greeting Kazrack with blushing faces.
Logan made a face of displeasure when he saw the hairy-chinned broad young women.
“My father sent me to Alexandra to give her whatever help I could, and the help she had for me to do was to come seeking you out and help you how I can in what you are doing,” Logan said. “She said you had sent her a message explaining your difficulties.”
“That is putting it lightly,” Martin replied, with skepticism “Did she send anything else?”
“We should not discuss them in public,” Logan said, looking around and then taking a long sip of ale.
“Aye, let us grab a bottle and return to my home,” Mercy said, standing. “I have some questions of my own.”
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At Mercy’s house, she cast detect evil to scan Logan’s aura, with the young man’s consent, and Ratchis followed it up with a detect charm spell. Both came up negative, though Mercy noticed the faintest lingering hint of it on Martin the Green.
“So what did Alexandra tell you?’ Martin asked, after he received a ring from Logan; a ring that was certainly Alexandra’s.
“Mostly that I should come help you however I could, and she told me about this rogue watch-mage named Richard the Red,” Logan began. “There have been agents of the Academy looking for him for a while, though they thought he was in Thricia.”
“We are very familiar with him,” Kazrack said.
Logan shrugged. “According to Alexandra, there is talk of his arranging for his own son to be kidnapped by someone or other, and later when the son wasn’t cooperative he conspired to have the boy’s betrothed kidnapped as well.”
“Any other Academy news?” Martin asked.
“They chose a new Archmage, Aemil, formerly the Aquamarine,” Logan added. (4)
“Okay, so what else did she say? Did she send any information about the Maze?” Martin asked.
“The what?” Logan was puzzled.
“Hurgun’s Maze.”
“Uh, I think I might have heard of it before,” Logan scratched his head, and shrugging. “My father probably mentioned it some time when he was going on and on showing off all the lore he knows.”
“She didn’t tell you anything about the Maze? You don’t bring information about it?”
Logan shook his head.
“What about the drow witches?”
“Drow are a myth,” Logan replied.
Kazrack slapped his own forehead in frustration.
“Hopefully, you will be able to go along believing that,” Martin replied.
Logan frowned and looked at each of the Keepers of the Gate in turn; puzzled.
“What else did she tell you to tell me?” Martin asked.
“Well, it seems that there is a rumor coming out of Gothanius about a rogue watch-mage and his party of non-humans. And how he has been neglecting his duties for his own agenda in Gothanius.”
“Yes, Richard the Red,” Kazrack said.
“No, Martin the Green,” Logan pointed at the watch-mage, and then at Ratchis and finally at the dwarf.
Martin’s shoulders sagged.
After a long moment of silence, Martin stood. “I guess I best go send that message to Daniel right away in hopes of salvaging my reputation even a little bit.”
“Write it down and keep talking with Logan. I will take it for you,” Mercy offered. Martin agreed.
“Anyway, they know me in this town, I’ll get a fair price,” Mercy added with a wink as she left with the letter a few minutes later.
“I don’t know what else there is to tell you, except that Alexandra was able to dig up some old letters from the former watch-mage of Bountiful that seemed to suggest the first king of Gothanius made some kind of pact with demons for power,” Logan said, and shrugged his shoulders, as if he did not quite believe it.
“We had suspected such a thing,” Martin commented.
“The only other Gothanius new she gave me was how the Nauglimir Dwarven Merchant Consortium’s relations with Gothanius are strained. The work on the road is still going on, but at a slowed rate because of some disagreement about some community of gnomes in an area the humans want to expand into.”
“Is pressure from the Consortium going to keep Gothanius from doing so?” Martin asked.
“I have no idea,” Logan said. “She said she might send more information later, I can only assume by magical means.”
“What about news of the world beyond Derome-Delem?” Martin asked.
“The war is going rotten,” Logan said. “There are fewer battles. The Herman Land navy cannot get through with enough force to capture the islands, but the few troops that have gotten through have managed to burn so many fields, before they’ve been slaughtered they say the common people and most of the lesser nobility are near starving.”
“That sounds like Herman Land is in the stronger position,” Kazrack said.
“Maybe, but they have almost no navy left and pirates pick around the western islands in numbers rivaling the legends of the old days of the Pirate Kings,” Logan said.
There was an abrupt knock on the door and the n Gunthar’s voice came echoing from outside.
“Hey, jackasses! Get out here! I have something to show you!”
Outside they found the Neergaardian holding the reins of wooly beast of burden with a long neck and a pronounced snout. It was brown and white and its big lips chewed incessantly.
“Maaaaa!” the beast bleated.
“It’s a llama!” Gunthar said. (5)
“I know it’s a llama,” Ratchis said. “Do you know how to take care of this thing?”
“How hard can it be?” Gunthar replied. “I figured we needed it to carry heavy stuff.”
“Okay,” Ratchis replied.
“I’m glad I have your permission, oh pious priest of freedom,” Gunthar said, snidely.
Ratchis growled.
“They had some of these beasts in Garvan,” Martin said. “In Thricia we use yaks.”
“You going back to Gothanius?” Logan asked.
“Oh! I know you just arrived, but yes, we are leaving tomorrow,” Martin replied to Logan, but looked at Ratchis.
“We’re not delaying,” Ratchis said. “And we haven’t decided if he is coming with us. It’s dangerous.”
“I’m sure Alexandra would not have sent him to aid us if he were unable to take care of himself,” Martin reasoned.
“Who in the hells is this yahoo?” Gunthar said, looking at Logan up and down.
“I do not know that he is a ‘yahoo’,” Kazrack replied.
“I am Logan,” the young man said, frowning. “I have been sent to aid Martin.”
“You coming along with us, too?” Gunthar asked.
“That has not been determined for sure yet,” Ratchis interjected.
“Damn, you guys’ll let any old poofter into the party these days,” Gunthar shook his head. “You gonna tell him all our secrets before he sneaks off, like ya did the last one?”
“What is he talking about?” Logan’s sneered; his body visibly tensed up.
“Gunthar here has never learned manners,” Martin explained.
“Though maybe one day someone will teach him the hard way,” Kazrack added. “I would have done it, but the law here in town forbids fisticuffs.”
“You still wanna have a go, Stumpy?” Gunthar asked. “I can squeeze you in for tomorrow afternoon, after a short appointment with shrimpy here’s momma.” He pointed at Logan and winked.
“Gunthar!” Ratchis roared.
“If you ever speak about my mother again there is going to be a problem,” Logan said, flatly.
“What? You gonna cry now, baby? Need your nappy changed?” Gunthar laughed.
“Perhaps I will take you up on that,” Kazrack said through gritted teeth. He rubbed his tightened fist with his other hand.
“Yes, that is exactly what we need, to be fighting among ourselves out in the wilderness,” Martin said. He turned to Gunthar. “You are going to have to learn how to treat people or else we are going to have to ask you to leave the group.”
“Oh! Marty’s grown a pair all of a sudden,” Gunthar continued to laugh, holding his stomach in an exaggerated fashion. He looked at Logan as he spoke “I guess I should pick on someone my own size, right Shorty?” Gunthar winked again.
Logan’s eyes shot daggers at Gunthar as the Neergaardian, pulled the llama around.
“I’ll meet you tossers back here before dawn, so you can latch whatever gear to Fearless here afore we go,” Gunthar said, leading the llama off.
“Fearless?” Martin queried.
“Ya chose a stupid name for yourselves. I figured I’d keep the old one alive, for as long at least until we are forced to eat him,” Gunthar exploded with laughter, and was soon gone.
“Why do you travel with him?” Logan asked, finally speaking again.
“I don’t know,” said Kazrack.
“He is good in a fight,” Ratchis said. “And he is a burden placed upon me by Nephthys.”
“Do you really think so?” Kazrack asked.
Ratchis shrugged.
There was a long silence.
“Was that a joke?” Dorn asked.
“Yes,” Ratchis replied sheepishly.
“Dwarven humor is better,” Kazrack said. “Here, listen to this one…”
Everyone groaned and went back inside.
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After a supper prepared by Mercy in honor of their coming trip, Dorn took Logan to the inn for a few drinks and so he could see a little more of the town before having to leave the next day. In reality, it was an excuse for the rest of the party to discuss the new perspective companion without his presence.
“Are you sure this is not a trick, or that he is not a spy of some kind,” Kazrack asked Martin. “Could not Richard the Red have provided him with information?”
“He had a ring from Alexandra the Lavender with her arcane mark upon it,” Martin replied.
“And that cannot be forged?” Ratchis asked.
“Not unless someone wants to incur the Curse of Thoth,” Martin said. (6)
Kazrack rolled his eyes, unconvinced.
“Well, if he is a spy, then let him come with us so we can keep an eye on him,” Ratchis said. “But if he is not, I am concerned that the road we travel and what we go do is too dangerous for him. He does look young.”
”He must be older than either Derek or Jeremy were,” Kazrack said.
“Yes, and they are both dead,” Ratchis replied.
“What do propose we do?” Martin asked, frowning.
“He and I can spar a little when we get out of town and we can get a gauge of his abilities,” Ratchis suggested.
“If you feel it must be done,” Martin sighed. “Let us just make sure we do it when we are not too far from town so if we do need to send him back he will not have too far to travel on his own.”
“And D’nar, if he beats you, do we get to send you back to town?” Kazrack shoved the half-orc with his elbow, but Ratchis just growled.
They spent another hour going over lists of provisions and pouring over Martin growing collection of maps. It was decided they would take the western route out of town to avoid the Black Orc lands, though what little information they could glean of the foothills northwest of Nikar suggested the presence of giants.
“We’ll be saving a day or three by that route, but when I think of passing through mountains with rock-throwing giants…” Ratchis began.
“I know, exhilarating, isn’t it?” Kazrack’s eyes gleamed.
“Not exactly what I was thinking,” Ratchis replied.
“I have gained a spell that will be useful for avoiding such encounter,” Martin said. “An arcane eye I can send way ahead of us, or up to a high point to get a good view of which routes are safest.”
Soon afterwards, Kazrack left to return to the temple and say his good-byes to the friends and peers he had met there, and spent his final night on dwarven consecrated ground and pray to Hodonar for a safe trip. Martin returned to the inn, where Dorn was drinking in the common room, and Logan was already asleep, exhausted from his own journey. The watch-mage slipped on Lacan’s Demise and, after studying his spellbooks for another hour, went to bed.
Back at Mercy’s house, Ratchis went over his pack one last time, making sure it was packed for ease of long travel, and that what he might need often was easily accessible. As he was about to climb into the loft to bed, Mercy called to him from her own bed.
“Ratchis?”
“Yes?”
“I think we should spend the night together,” Mercy said.
”We do that every night,” Ratchis replied, puzzled.
“No, I mean… Come here,” Mercy said, and she blew out the candle by her bed. “There is no reason why friends should not share a close moment together before one is about to leave to what might be his death.”
Ratchis went to her.
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Notes:
(1) Faultless are message-bearing birds known for their unerring arrival. They are very expensive.
(2) In Session #29, Daniel asked the party to retrieve the queen’s diary from Rindalith.
(3) The City of Teamsburg, an important northeastern port in the Kingdom of Herman Land, was the site of the first strike sneak attack on the part of the Black Islands Barony that incited the current civil war. More than half the city burned and thousands died.
(4) Upon accepting the position of Archmage of the Academy, the watch-mage drops the color associated with his name.
(5) Llamas are commonly used as beasts of burden and even to ride by the people who live in the hilly and mountainous areas of Derome-Delem. Hill dwarf communities of this island also commonly use them. The broader alpaca breed of llama are also found all over El Reino Unido de Familias Superiores.
(6) Wizards arcane marks are protected by the power of Thoth, God of Knowledge and Magic. Those who forge one are said to become feebleminded.
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