Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 170
A few minutes after most of the Spire has left the Greenhouse, a pair of soldiers comes to the door bearing a large pile of labeled magic items. It’s a collection of the magical loot found around Verdshane after the battle, sent to be divvied up among the surviving adventuring types. There is some brief discussion about how to most fairly split up the swag. Royce says he only wants a weapon, since he is fairly well festooned with magic items following the demise of his adventuring group. He takes a +2 ghost touch halberd and is satisfied. Glade and Wellington alternate with the Company in choosing from the remaining stuff, with the Company getting some extra picks due to its larger size. The paladin and the kid come away with a wand of keen edge with 16 charges, a brooch of shielding (51 points of protection remaining), and three potions – tongues, blur and protection for elements: cold. The Company gets a pair of goggles of night; 4 beads of stillness (each is like a one-charge metamagic rod with the still spell feat); a permanently-enchanted +3 arrow of distance; an arcane scroll with stone to flesh and repulsion, a divine scroll with neutralize poison, water walk and inflict serious wounds; a potion of vision (+10 to search checks for an hour); and (in Dranko’s opinion) the cherry on the magic item sundae: a ring of djinn summoning.
Glade and Royce take their leave of the Greenhouse; Wellington stays behind, to continue scribing Kibi’s energy buffer spell into his book. A few minutes are spent portioning out their new magical goodies. When they’re done, they sit back and… and…
The members of the Company look around the Greenhouse and at each other.
There’s nothing to do!
“I think it’s obvious what we do now,” says Dranko after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah?” asks Grey Wolf.
“Yeah,” answers Dranko. “We just won the frikkin’ war, and we’re some of the most powerful heroes in the kingdom. Let’s go drinking!”
“A fine idea,” agrees Grey Wolf. “I’ll buy.”
So our heroes head out through the city. It is strangely empty for a beautiful autumn evening, as all of the men who served in and around Verdshane (and survived) won’t return for many days. Those that they pass on the street are clearly glum, nervous, expectant. There has been no official word that the war is over and won, and the typical commoner fears the worst.
The Company chooses an upscale tavern and restaurant called the Duke’s Footprint, a place that long ago they heard was a favorite dining choice of Sagiro Emberleaf. A stiff, frowning man greets them at the door.
“How many I help you?” he asks politely.
“We want food, for, er…nine,” says Dranko. “And hey, cheer up. We won.”
“Won what, sir?”
“The war. Well, we won in Verdshane, and I hear we’ve got ‘em on the run down south,” Dranko says.
“Ah. Well, I’m sure you would know,” says the greeter, not believing a word. “Let me show you to a table.”
“Really,” says Dranko, as the Company is led inside. “It’ll probably be made public in the next day or two. Then I’ll come back and you can apologize for not believing me.”
“Right this way.”
The Company proceeds to eat, drink, and get merry. With the exception of Morningstar and One Certain Step (and maybe Aravis – it’s hard to say), all of them get progressively more and more drunk, to the point where everyone is trying to steal steaks off of each others’ plates, and Ernie even starts making rude jokes about Dranko’s tongue. Step, bemused, turns to an exasperated Morningstar.
“I don’t understand,” he says gravely. “Everyone gets their own steak. I do not see the need to also eat someone else’s.”
Morningstar shrugs. “I’m thinking of attending midnight mass at my church tonight,” she sighs. “The sisters there don’t trust me, but at least they’ll be sober.”
Step turns back to his steak to find that Flicker has stolen it. The Paladin of the Sun Goddess looks at Morningstar. “Midnight mass? I think I would be glad to accompany you. But while I would happily escape the company of our friends, I also fear to leave them unguarded in their current state.”
Dranko tries again to convince someone that they won the war, this time the shy servant woman, Arla, who’s bringing out wine, meat and apple pie.
“Really?” she says, eyes wide. “Did you see my brother? His name is Robert, and he looks something like me, though taller, with red hair and a neat mustache.”
“No, we didn’t,” says Ernie. “But there were a lot of people there.”
“Oh, I do hope he’s all right,” says Arla, wringing her hands.
Around ten o’clock the Company stumbles out of the Duke’s Footprint, smashed and laughing.
“Where to now?” slurs Ernie?
“What about that church service at your temple?” Aravis asks Morningstar.
“I’m not bringing them there in this state,” she answers. “Perhaps a small service at the Greenhouse before bed.”
“Greenhouse?” says Dranko. “I’m not going home yet. The night is young! Flicker! How about we head over to your parents’ place?”
“Great idea!” answers Flicker, wobbling a bit. “To the Smoke House!”
The collectively stagger through the streets of Tal Hae.
A few blocks down, Kibi notices someone watching him. He turns around, but… no one is there. Damn, he thinks… too much wine. But no, someone is watching him. He can feel it. He doesn’t know who, or from where, but it’s sudden and unsettling.
“Er… guys? Guys?” he says.
“What’s up, Kibi?”
“I’m being watched.”
“Where from?” asks Dranko.
“I don’t know. I just sort of feel it, in my head. Someone’s watching me. I know it.”
Dranko immediately hits himself with a quick-sober orison.
“Oooooh,” he says, clutching his head for a moment. “Now I’ll need to get drunk all over again.”
But thinking clearly now, he fires off a detect magic, looking all around Kibi for signs of a scry sensor.
He detects nothing.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks.
“Yeah. It’s… well, I don’t know what it’s like. But someone, somewhere, is watching me.”
Dranko scrambles up a nearby building and surveys the surrounding rooftops. He sees no one.
“Hey, it stopped!” says Kibi.
With nothing else to do about it, the Company continues on the Smoke House, the tavern and inn run by Flicker’s parents. By the time they arrive, most of them have forgotten all about Kibi’s mysterious watcher and are ready for more alcohol. Flicker stumbles through the door and waves at the people he knows. Dranko realizes that Flicker is about to make a fool out of himself in front of his parents.
“Flicker, you’re drunk as a skunk. Here.”
He hits the halfling with another quick-sober orison. Flicker splutters, grips his head, and turns angrily on Dranko.
“Why in the Gods’ name did you do that?”
“I didn’t want your parents to see you drunk,” says Dranko, taken aback.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Dranko! My parents run a frikkin’ bar. You think they care if I’m drunk? Hey dad! Over here! I need a drink in the worst way. Hey, make it one for everyone, on me!”
Flicker’s father comes over himself with a large tray of drinks.
“You’re in a good mood this evening, Flicker. Have any good news? We could all use some these days.”
“You bet!” says Flicker. “We won the war!”
“You what?”
“You heard me. We were there. Isn’t that right, guys?”
“Darn right,” says Dranko. “We were there at Verdshane. We fought there.”
“We kicked Naradawk’s ass,” adds Ernie.
“Hard,” says Grey Wolf.
“And it sounds like the Delfirians are retreating down south, too,” says Flicker. “I’m sure you’ll hear it officially soon enough, but we won! The war is over!”
Flicker’s father jumps up on a table, which causes everyone to quiet down.
“Attention everyone,” he says to the assembled patrons. “My son and his friends just came back from Verdshane. The war is over, and we won!”
The place goes berserk, and before another hour has passed, halflings are dancing and singing in the Smoke House as they haven’t in many long weeks of worry. It’s long after midnight when the Company staggers homeward to the Greenhouse for bed.
* *
Kibi is the last one still awake. He’s not so sloshed as the others; his dwarven constitution gives him a higher tolerance for his liquor. He’s thinking about that feeling of being watched, how unnerving it was. It was like nothing he had ever…
It starts again. It’s in the room, watching him. It’s inside the Greenhouse! He shouts in alarm.
“Hey! Guys! Help! I’m being watched again, right now! Hey!”
Dranko is the first to arrive. He’s still plastered, but has a sudden insight.
“I bet I know what it is. I bet it’s Cranchus, spying on you. Who else but an Archmage could watch you inside the house? Here, this’ll make him stop watching.”
To Kibi’s utter horror, Dranko drops his pants. He waggles his backside around, mooning “Cranchus,” wherever he might be.
The others arrive a moment later, to find out why Kibi was calling for help.
Ah. That’s why. Dranko seems to be… er…
“Dranko!” says Ernie. “Put your pants on this minute.”
“I’m mooning Cranchus,” Dranko explains.
“Blinding him, more like,” mutters Grey Wolf.
“And do you think that’s a smart thing? asks Morningstar, rolling her eyes.
“Er… I guess not…”
He pulls up his trousers.
“Hey, if an Archmage was watching, I’ll apologize later, I promise.”
“There aren’t any Archmagi left,” reminds Kibi.
That sobers everyone up quick.
“Kibi!” the rest of the Company shouts almost as one. “Shhhhhhh! We don’t talk about that, remember?”
Realizing his gaffe, Kibi turns a bright red.
“I… um, sorry. Oops. Oh, I shouldn’t have said that. Anyway, as horrible as it was seeing Dranko’s bum, that wasn’t why I called for help. I was being watched again.”
“Here?” asks Aravis, alarmed. “In the Greenhouse?”
Aravis casts detect magic and Morningstar casts detect thoughts, but neither of them pick up anything unexpected about the house, its magical wards, or the people inside. With nothing else to do, everyone goes back to sleep. Morningstar watches Kibi’s dreams later that night, and discovers that the dwarf is dreaming of being watched, by two small white pinprick eyes. It’s creepy.
* *
The next morning the Company wakes to the sound of a town crier out in the street – news of the kingdom’s victories is at last being made public. Notices are being posted on the doors of shops that a victory parade and festival will be held two weeks hence.
Aravis wakes to find that he is idly scratching an itchy spot on his foot . He glances down to see that he has developed some sort of rash. He yawns, gets up, dresses, and goes in search of a cleric. Dranko prays for a cure disease, and the rash is healed. That seems innocuous enough, but Morningstar finds that she has a similar rash, on her elbow. As with Aravis, a cure disease takes care of it. They discuss the most likely causes, and decide that they must have picked up something in the forest during the battle.
After breakfast Kibi goes down to the basement to get working on his vest of dwarf preserving, a magical vest that will combine the effects of water walking and familiar pocket as a safety measure for himself and Scree in the event of a teleportational water landing. After about an hour of work he realizes that he’s being watched again. He looks around curiously, but again no one is there.
“Er… hello?”
Nothing.
“I’m just working on this vest,” he explains to the watcher. He holds it up. “Teleporting in an island kingdom can be risky.”
Nothing.
“I’ll just get back to work then, ok?”
For another few minutes he senses eyes watching him – two small white eyes. He calls for Morningstar, who casts detect thoughts on him again. Nothing unusual is discovered. Kibi tries not to become unnerved, and eventually the eyes stop their strange scrutiny.
For the next couple of days the Company takes care of random business. Morningstar arranges for Swan to deliver a full report on the Dreamscape battle to the High Priestess Rhiavonne. Ernie is asked (not surprisingly) to help out in the kitchens at the temple of Yondalla, as they prepare for the upcoming festival day. He invents a new spicy cookie recipe which he dubs “Nifi Cookies.” Dranko returns to the home where he first lived after leaving the church, a run-down rental unit still presided over by his old landlady, Berthel Jugglegut. In a fit of overwhelming charity he pays off her own rental of the house for the next fifty years, assuring that she’ll never want for anything again. She is overwhelmed by the gesture, and celebrates with a bottle of traditionally cheap wine that Dranko has thoughtfully provided.
Also during this time, Aravis again finds he has contracted a spot of rash. Suspecting something sinister, Kibi casts detect magic and discovers that the irritation is faintly magical. Hmmm. Just to be on the safe side, she casts a sending to Corporal Edridge. Edridge, it’s Morningstar. We are experiencing a slightly magical rash. Anyone else in Verdshane having trouble? It’s dumb, but we’re checking..
The reply: No, no rash outbreak. Perhaps you contracted it from that corpse in your room? Will inform Anabrook, just in case.
* *
On the 17th day of September, a small box is delivered to the Greenhouse, along with a fancy parchment bearing the royal seal. Ernie gathers the Company together in the living room and reads the scroll.
To the occupants of the Greenhouse, a.k.a. Abernathy’s Company, Ozilinsh’s Company, and the Heroes of the Kalkas Peaks:
By the decree of His Royal Majesty, King Crunard IV of Charagan, you are hereby granted full deed and title to Longtooth Keep*, Hill-fort of the Norlin Hills. A sum of five thousand gold crowns will be made available to assist you in the rebuilding, maintenance and upkeep of the Keep; this money can be collected at the bursary of Hae Kalkas.
The Keep and its properties shall be your collective and autonomous responsibility; in addition to the grounds within its outer wall, it encompasses all land within one mile of its center, including all roads, way stations and guard-posts. Right of Taxation still falls to Lady Rose Wymar of Hafast, and although Longtooth will not fall under her direct political or economic influence, you will be expected to maintain a mutually agreeable relationship with the local nobility.
Also, it has been decided that a new Rank and Order shall be created within the Kingdom of Charagan, in recognition of services rendered both past and future. These persons shall be titled as members of the Spire Guard. As such, their responsibilities are: to protect the Kingdom from all known threats of an unusual or arcane nature; and to investigate possible sites or occurrences that could comprise or become such a threat.
Herein is official notice that Spire Guard titles are hereby conferred upon: Sir Ivellios Forester; Dame Morningstar of Ell; Sir Flicker Proudfoot; General Kay Olafsen; Sir Dranko Blackhope of Delioch; Sir Ernest Roundhill of Yondalla; Sir Kibilhathur Bimson; Sir Aravis Telmir. One Certain Step, in light of outstanding service, is granted similar rank and title for as long as he wishes to maintain residence within the borders of Charagan.
Know that these same titles have also been conferred upon: Sir Royce Tillman; Dame Glade Silvermorne; Sir Wellington Chandler; Sir Jerzembeck Fletcher; Dame Junaya Fletcher; Sir Cavrius Smith; Sir Keez’k’r Red-tooth; Dame Wynalda Farrier; Sir Attrius Cromwell; Dame Portia Oakshade.
All insignia and documents accompany this letter.
With great appreciation and thanks,
His Royal Majesty,
King Crunard IV of Charagan
There is much rejoicing.
…to be continued…
* The Company has visited Longtooth Keep once before. It was there that they fought a skeleton being animated by one of the Eyes of Moirel (one of the Eyes now in the basement of the Greenhouse). It was there that Sagiro Emberleaf seemed to meet his end. And it was there that the Eye-in-skull uttered the surprising words: "Ernest, how nice to see you again." Then to Kibi: "Bimson, my regards to your Grandfather."