el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #4 – “Delirium Tremens” (part 3 of 4)
Osilem, the 17th of Sek – 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)
The next morning found a fully restored Victoria discussing tactics with Markos. They talked for a long time without the interference of the others
“I am sorry for my rash words spoken in the heat of my anger,” Markos said to the militant. “I know your actions in the battle were not done out of cowardice. It is just that I cannot agree with the tactics of it…”
And on and on the discussion went… Eventually the others joined it as well, but before it could become another quarrel it was agreed to let the discussion lie until another time.
Chok’tem announced that he would be willing to let Sir Quintus go. “His body has been broken of the need, though his mind might still dwell on it,” the lizardman said in his tongue to Markos. “He should recover fully as long as he does not use the shannis again.”
“Perhaps we should search his things to make sure he does not have any more of it,” Markos suggested.
“He does not have it,” Chok’tem said. “He came to us because the desire had grown so strong upon him from not having it…”
“The truth of the matter is… the men you refer to as ‘brigands’ were only near Bog End to pick up the raw pollen,” Sir Quintus said, as the other lizardman pulled up the stakes that confined him. “The problem was that there was none to pick up because Chok’tem and his people had withheld the pollen because I was taking too long in talking to Lord Swann on their behalf…”
Bleys nodded to Chok’tem approvingly. The knight continued, “I came into the swamp to convince them to give up the pollen, as I was afraid that the longer MacHaven and his men were around, the more chance there was they would cause some trouble to the locals, and… and the greater the chance that my secret would be revealed. But… when I arrived, the lizardfolk captured me instead to break me of my habit.”
“Are you happy that they did this?” Markos asked.
“I fear I may never be happy again,” Sir Quintus Gosprey replied with resignation in his voice.
“And Valerius… You will keep his secret?” Markos turned to the squire.
“Yes…” the boy answered dejectedly. “If he is to redeem himself he need a clean slate and he will need help, and what else does a squire do but help his master?”
They were two horses short, what with Sir Quintus Gosprey’s horse having been eaten by the muckdwellers, and Argo falling into the plant pit, so the packhorse was fitted with a saddle, and the gear it carried was spread out among the others. Sir Quintus took Valerius’ horse and Victoria rode the packhorse. Valerius walked, climbing onto Markos’ horse when deeper water required a mount.
Chok’tem led them back to the track by a winding way that still took less than half the time than that of Tavius. The lizardman did not even say good-bye. He slipped back into the brush and was gone before anyone noticed.
The topic of tactics came up again as they slowly rode out of the bog. As usual, Bleys stayed out of it, perhaps not even listening, and Laarus while attentive, was quiet, and after a few words, both Timotheus and Telémahkos tried to stop listening – but it didn’t work.
“All I am saying is that any tactics that allow you to walk away from a fight with no one on your side dying could not have been too bad,” Victoria said.
“I totally disagree,” Markos insisted. “Next time someone’s cowardly demeanor could lead to someone else’s death…”
Telémahkos, who rode right in front of Markos, turned around, not stopping his horse. “Just to let you know, I will not dirty my hands here and now, but if you insult me again in public I will meet you with steel.”
“…And he continues to live up to my expectations,” Markos said to Victoria.
“You cannot continue to impugn the honor of others without expecting to be challenged on it,” Victoria replied.
“Even if we fought and he killed me, it would not make him any less a coward,” Markos replied. “But I will let it go, for now…”
A break in the foliage could be seen up ahead and deep muddy field where Telémahkos’ horse had gotten stuck was in sight when Timotheus saw Laarus suddenly sway in his saddle.
[sblock]
The sharp smell of burning chemicals filled Laarus’ nostrils and he felt his stomach immediately turn. His vision dimmed and when it began to return, he no longer saw the swamp around them, but some cramped dark place where he could see a ‘Q’ branded onto the side of a barrel.
Laarus could feel something welling up in his throat and suddenly there was a loud explosion that caused the world to go white for half a moment as it echoed in his mind.
[/sblock]
The priest of Ra leaned over suddenly, his body flopping loosely as if drunk and he coughed up a stream of yellow bile.
“Laarus! Are you alright?” Timotheus asked. Laarus sat back up and wiped his mouth with a kerchief he drew out of a pocket in his doublet. “I am fine. I just got nauseous there for a moment… I am fine now…” Laarus looked even paler than usual.
“Isis protect us!” Timotheus hissed, covering his mouth. “He has the bog flu!” He made a mental note to not share a room with Laarus wherever they ended up staying that night.
Just after mid-day they finally reached Bog End, but rode another couple of miles south of it before stopping to have lunch not wanting to be seen by locals. Once again Sir Quintus tried to convince them to allow him to return to Gullmoor Keep first, but Markos reminded him of the choices, and the knight acquiesced.
The road south grew wider and better maintained the further they went. The bog gave way to narrow strips of forest divided by steep bald hills, while on the left the sea came into view and then fell away, leaving the road atop tall jagged bluffs. Soon the hills to the west were gone and the strips of forests divided large farmsteads. All afternoon they passed peddlers and other locals with ox-drawn carts and wheelbarrows filled with springtime fruit, but it would not be until nigh sunset that New Harbinger would come into view.
It was an octagonal fortified town of yellowing white stone with eight tall towers about is outer wall, and a tall spire of a citadel at the northern side. It abutted the rocky shore, connecting to a fortified harbor with smaller towers that reached the water’s edge. There were many ships docked there. The cry of gulls made Markos’ frustration with his companions melt away in the moment.
The Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland came down the slope towards New Harbinger, and the size of the place became more and more apparent.
“Wow, this is bigger than the Gate,” Timotheus said as the road wound down to the cleared lands about it. There was a livery among the few buildings that began a few hundred yards away from the wall, and Sir Quintus explained that there was a local ordinance regarding horses in the town’s narrow streets.
A middle-aged bearded man named Tolliver ran the livery and he was expecting them. “I was asked to look out for your arrival by your steward,” he said. “And I am also to tell you to ask for Lieutenant Ferris Twelf at the gate.” The party took their gear from their horses and walked to the entrance of the town.
The drawbridge was still open, but the great portcullis decorated with wrought iron black swans was lowered, and after a brief questioning they were shown through a narrow door in the gate into an enclosed bailey with countless niches for bowman on either side. There was a great wooden gate reinforced with iron that led into the town itself, but a smaller door was set into it.
Lieutenant Ferris Twelf met them there and greeted Sir Quintus warmly, but immediately asked him as to his health.
“Welcome to New Harbinger,” the lieutenant said turning to the other and introducing himself. “The captain of the guards wants to meet and talk with you, and he has been summoned. Your steward arrived a few days ago and alerted us to your coming. She and your hirelings have taken rooms at the Sign of the Green Gem, the only inn of repute in town, and may have arranged for rooms for you there, as well. However, the current season means that there are many merchants in town, so if there are no rooms, I have been instructed for you to send word to the citadel so they might see to your hospitality.”
This lieutenant Twelf bore little resemblance to the lean half-elven officer they had met on the Beach Road. He was shorter and rounder, and had no visible elven heritage to speak of. (1)
“Speaking of hospitality, Ferris… I have to see the Lord immediately,” Quintus said. “It is very important…”
“I’ll have someone bring you there right away,” the lieutenant replied, and he summoned one of his guards.
The knight turned to the young nobles and thanked them for their help. “If you are ever in the area of Gullmoor again and have need of aid, please seek me out…”
“Sir Quintus,” Bleys stepped over. “Did we not agree that you would speak to the Lord in our presence?”
“Yes, that was the agreement,” Markos reinforced.
“I am more likely to get an actual audience with him at this time if I go alone, rather than show up with six young nobles in tow,” Quintus replied, his exhaustion evident in his voice and manner. “You are being asked to wait here, and have other business in town, I would rather get this over with…”
“And how will we know that you have fulfilled your promise?” Markos asked.
“You can confirm with the Lord when you speak to him,” Quintus replied quietly as to not have Lieutenant Ferris hear. “And if you find that I did not inform him satisfactorily, well then… do what you think you must…”
The lieutenant looked confused by the sudden heated whispering when he turned from giving his guard his order to escort the knight and his squire to the citadel, but the party acquiesced and the knight and squire were led through a narrow side door into the town.
A few moments later Captain Aurelius Oberto arrived. Tall and handsome with long brown hair held in a tail by gold thread, the captain wore a chain shirt, and had a long sword at his side. His golden tabard bore a quartered field with a black swan in the top right and a bluish-green gemstone in the bottom left. He smiled broadly as he approached the young nobles, bowing and then shaking each of their hands as he introduced himself and welcomed them, guessing each of their names. The captain gave a strange look at Markos as he shook his hand.
“And how long do you plan to stay here in New Harbinger?” he asked everyone.
“Not long…” Laarus of Ra replied. The young priest looked to the others to reinforce his reply, before continuing. “Perhaps three days?”
“More or less,” Timotheus added.
“But if we have to leave suddenly that won’t cause anyone any…” Telémahkos began to ask.
“No… No… I was just curious. The gates are closed at sunset, but other than that, you can leave whenever you like, but…” He paused. “Well… The citadel steward asked to be informed of your arrival, so if I were you I would expect to be invited to dinner there for an audience with Lord Swann.”
“Yeah, sure… that’d be great!” Timotheus replied with real enthusiasm.
“Well, don’t take my word as invitation,” the captain clarified. “I am just saying that her asking is a good indication that a invitation will come… So, please keep that in mind as you make your plans.”
“Thank you for letting us know, we will plan accordingly,” replied Victoria.
“Also, master Bleys,” he looked to the tall purple-garbed watch-mage. “Your fellow alumnus wanted me to tell you to come see him when you arrived. Do you know Oroleniel the Salmon?”
“Yes,” Bleys said, bowing his head slightly in thanks. “He graduated two years before I did…”
“Well, that was basically it… I just wanted to see you with my own eyes so I can report your arrival with utter truthfulness,” the captain said. “And if there is anything you need while you are in town that we can help you with please see Lieutenant Twelf, and if there anything he cannot help you with, he will refer you to me.”
“Actually, I may as well ask now… What temples do you have in the city?” Victoria asked.
“Only Tefnut has a proper temple,” the captain explained. “But there is a shrine to Horus near the harbor, and also a plaza that holds shrines to several gods, including the triad of Ra, in the northwestern quadrant.”
At the captain’s signal, the inner gate was opened to let them into the town proper, and they were immediately struck by the pungent scent of spices and the sea. The town beyond was mostly draped in the gloom of the day’s last moments. There were many winding streets thought tight clusters of buildings, some of which where wooden and leaning towards ramshackle, but others were of white stone; most of them had their roofs and walls painted with quicklime. All of them were one story, except for one building near the center of town. This one Lieutenant Ferris Twelf pointed out as the Sign of the Green Gem. Beyond this to the left they could see the towers of the citadel, and to the right those of the fortified harbor.
Bleys, Laarus, Telémahkos, Timotheus, Markos and Victoria walked down the main thoroughfare, where guards were lighting lanterns at the edge of the entrance to each cluster of buildings, lighting their way.
. . .to be continued…
----------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(1) Lieutenant Ferris Twelf is actually a cousin of Lorkas from the human side of his family. The party met Lorkas Twelf in Session #2.
Osilem, the 17th of Sek – 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)
The next morning found a fully restored Victoria discussing tactics with Markos. They talked for a long time without the interference of the others
“I am sorry for my rash words spoken in the heat of my anger,” Markos said to the militant. “I know your actions in the battle were not done out of cowardice. It is just that I cannot agree with the tactics of it…”
And on and on the discussion went… Eventually the others joined it as well, but before it could become another quarrel it was agreed to let the discussion lie until another time.
Chok’tem announced that he would be willing to let Sir Quintus go. “His body has been broken of the need, though his mind might still dwell on it,” the lizardman said in his tongue to Markos. “He should recover fully as long as he does not use the shannis again.”
“Perhaps we should search his things to make sure he does not have any more of it,” Markos suggested.
“He does not have it,” Chok’tem said. “He came to us because the desire had grown so strong upon him from not having it…”
“The truth of the matter is… the men you refer to as ‘brigands’ were only near Bog End to pick up the raw pollen,” Sir Quintus said, as the other lizardman pulled up the stakes that confined him. “The problem was that there was none to pick up because Chok’tem and his people had withheld the pollen because I was taking too long in talking to Lord Swann on their behalf…”
Bleys nodded to Chok’tem approvingly. The knight continued, “I came into the swamp to convince them to give up the pollen, as I was afraid that the longer MacHaven and his men were around, the more chance there was they would cause some trouble to the locals, and… and the greater the chance that my secret would be revealed. But… when I arrived, the lizardfolk captured me instead to break me of my habit.”
“Are you happy that they did this?” Markos asked.
“I fear I may never be happy again,” Sir Quintus Gosprey replied with resignation in his voice.
“And Valerius… You will keep his secret?” Markos turned to the squire.
“Yes…” the boy answered dejectedly. “If he is to redeem himself he need a clean slate and he will need help, and what else does a squire do but help his master?”
They were two horses short, what with Sir Quintus Gosprey’s horse having been eaten by the muckdwellers, and Argo falling into the plant pit, so the packhorse was fitted with a saddle, and the gear it carried was spread out among the others. Sir Quintus took Valerius’ horse and Victoria rode the packhorse. Valerius walked, climbing onto Markos’ horse when deeper water required a mount.
Chok’tem led them back to the track by a winding way that still took less than half the time than that of Tavius. The lizardman did not even say good-bye. He slipped back into the brush and was gone before anyone noticed.
The topic of tactics came up again as they slowly rode out of the bog. As usual, Bleys stayed out of it, perhaps not even listening, and Laarus while attentive, was quiet, and after a few words, both Timotheus and Telémahkos tried to stop listening – but it didn’t work.
“All I am saying is that any tactics that allow you to walk away from a fight with no one on your side dying could not have been too bad,” Victoria said.
“I totally disagree,” Markos insisted. “Next time someone’s cowardly demeanor could lead to someone else’s death…”
Telémahkos, who rode right in front of Markos, turned around, not stopping his horse. “Just to let you know, I will not dirty my hands here and now, but if you insult me again in public I will meet you with steel.”
“…And he continues to live up to my expectations,” Markos said to Victoria.
“You cannot continue to impugn the honor of others without expecting to be challenged on it,” Victoria replied.
“Even if we fought and he killed me, it would not make him any less a coward,” Markos replied. “But I will let it go, for now…”
A break in the foliage could be seen up ahead and deep muddy field where Telémahkos’ horse had gotten stuck was in sight when Timotheus saw Laarus suddenly sway in his saddle.
[sblock]
The sharp smell of burning chemicals filled Laarus’ nostrils and he felt his stomach immediately turn. His vision dimmed and when it began to return, he no longer saw the swamp around them, but some cramped dark place where he could see a ‘Q’ branded onto the side of a barrel.
Laarus could feel something welling up in his throat and suddenly there was a loud explosion that caused the world to go white for half a moment as it echoed in his mind.
[/sblock]
The priest of Ra leaned over suddenly, his body flopping loosely as if drunk and he coughed up a stream of yellow bile.
“Laarus! Are you alright?” Timotheus asked. Laarus sat back up and wiped his mouth with a kerchief he drew out of a pocket in his doublet. “I am fine. I just got nauseous there for a moment… I am fine now…” Laarus looked even paler than usual.
“Isis protect us!” Timotheus hissed, covering his mouth. “He has the bog flu!” He made a mental note to not share a room with Laarus wherever they ended up staying that night.
Just after mid-day they finally reached Bog End, but rode another couple of miles south of it before stopping to have lunch not wanting to be seen by locals. Once again Sir Quintus tried to convince them to allow him to return to Gullmoor Keep first, but Markos reminded him of the choices, and the knight acquiesced.
The road south grew wider and better maintained the further they went. The bog gave way to narrow strips of forest divided by steep bald hills, while on the left the sea came into view and then fell away, leaving the road atop tall jagged bluffs. Soon the hills to the west were gone and the strips of forests divided large farmsteads. All afternoon they passed peddlers and other locals with ox-drawn carts and wheelbarrows filled with springtime fruit, but it would not be until nigh sunset that New Harbinger would come into view.
It was an octagonal fortified town of yellowing white stone with eight tall towers about is outer wall, and a tall spire of a citadel at the northern side. It abutted the rocky shore, connecting to a fortified harbor with smaller towers that reached the water’s edge. There were many ships docked there. The cry of gulls made Markos’ frustration with his companions melt away in the moment.
The Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland came down the slope towards New Harbinger, and the size of the place became more and more apparent.
“Wow, this is bigger than the Gate,” Timotheus said as the road wound down to the cleared lands about it. There was a livery among the few buildings that began a few hundred yards away from the wall, and Sir Quintus explained that there was a local ordinance regarding horses in the town’s narrow streets.
A middle-aged bearded man named Tolliver ran the livery and he was expecting them. “I was asked to look out for your arrival by your steward,” he said. “And I am also to tell you to ask for Lieutenant Ferris Twelf at the gate.” The party took their gear from their horses and walked to the entrance of the town.
The drawbridge was still open, but the great portcullis decorated with wrought iron black swans was lowered, and after a brief questioning they were shown through a narrow door in the gate into an enclosed bailey with countless niches for bowman on either side. There was a great wooden gate reinforced with iron that led into the town itself, but a smaller door was set into it.
Lieutenant Ferris Twelf met them there and greeted Sir Quintus warmly, but immediately asked him as to his health.
“Welcome to New Harbinger,” the lieutenant said turning to the other and introducing himself. “The captain of the guards wants to meet and talk with you, and he has been summoned. Your steward arrived a few days ago and alerted us to your coming. She and your hirelings have taken rooms at the Sign of the Green Gem, the only inn of repute in town, and may have arranged for rooms for you there, as well. However, the current season means that there are many merchants in town, so if there are no rooms, I have been instructed for you to send word to the citadel so they might see to your hospitality.”
This lieutenant Twelf bore little resemblance to the lean half-elven officer they had met on the Beach Road. He was shorter and rounder, and had no visible elven heritage to speak of. (1)
“Speaking of hospitality, Ferris… I have to see the Lord immediately,” Quintus said. “It is very important…”
“I’ll have someone bring you there right away,” the lieutenant replied, and he summoned one of his guards.
The knight turned to the young nobles and thanked them for their help. “If you are ever in the area of Gullmoor again and have need of aid, please seek me out…”
“Sir Quintus,” Bleys stepped over. “Did we not agree that you would speak to the Lord in our presence?”
“Yes, that was the agreement,” Markos reinforced.
“I am more likely to get an actual audience with him at this time if I go alone, rather than show up with six young nobles in tow,” Quintus replied, his exhaustion evident in his voice and manner. “You are being asked to wait here, and have other business in town, I would rather get this over with…”
“And how will we know that you have fulfilled your promise?” Markos asked.
“You can confirm with the Lord when you speak to him,” Quintus replied quietly as to not have Lieutenant Ferris hear. “And if you find that I did not inform him satisfactorily, well then… do what you think you must…”
The lieutenant looked confused by the sudden heated whispering when he turned from giving his guard his order to escort the knight and his squire to the citadel, but the party acquiesced and the knight and squire were led through a narrow side door into the town.
A few moments later Captain Aurelius Oberto arrived. Tall and handsome with long brown hair held in a tail by gold thread, the captain wore a chain shirt, and had a long sword at his side. His golden tabard bore a quartered field with a black swan in the top right and a bluish-green gemstone in the bottom left. He smiled broadly as he approached the young nobles, bowing and then shaking each of their hands as he introduced himself and welcomed them, guessing each of their names. The captain gave a strange look at Markos as he shook his hand.
“And how long do you plan to stay here in New Harbinger?” he asked everyone.
“Not long…” Laarus of Ra replied. The young priest looked to the others to reinforce his reply, before continuing. “Perhaps three days?”
“More or less,” Timotheus added.
“But if we have to leave suddenly that won’t cause anyone any…” Telémahkos began to ask.
“No… No… I was just curious. The gates are closed at sunset, but other than that, you can leave whenever you like, but…” He paused. “Well… The citadel steward asked to be informed of your arrival, so if I were you I would expect to be invited to dinner there for an audience with Lord Swann.”
“Yeah, sure… that’d be great!” Timotheus replied with real enthusiasm.
“Well, don’t take my word as invitation,” the captain clarified. “I am just saying that her asking is a good indication that a invitation will come… So, please keep that in mind as you make your plans.”
“Thank you for letting us know, we will plan accordingly,” replied Victoria.
“Also, master Bleys,” he looked to the tall purple-garbed watch-mage. “Your fellow alumnus wanted me to tell you to come see him when you arrived. Do you know Oroleniel the Salmon?”
“Yes,” Bleys said, bowing his head slightly in thanks. “He graduated two years before I did…”
“Well, that was basically it… I just wanted to see you with my own eyes so I can report your arrival with utter truthfulness,” the captain said. “And if there is anything you need while you are in town that we can help you with please see Lieutenant Twelf, and if there anything he cannot help you with, he will refer you to me.”
“Actually, I may as well ask now… What temples do you have in the city?” Victoria asked.
“Only Tefnut has a proper temple,” the captain explained. “But there is a shrine to Horus near the harbor, and also a plaza that holds shrines to several gods, including the triad of Ra, in the northwestern quadrant.”
At the captain’s signal, the inner gate was opened to let them into the town proper, and they were immediately struck by the pungent scent of spices and the sea. The town beyond was mostly draped in the gloom of the day’s last moments. There were many winding streets thought tight clusters of buildings, some of which where wooden and leaning towards ramshackle, but others were of white stone; most of them had their roofs and walls painted with quicklime. All of them were one story, except for one building near the center of town. This one Lieutenant Ferris Twelf pointed out as the Sign of the Green Gem. Beyond this to the left they could see the towers of the citadel, and to the right those of the fortified harbor.
Bleys, Laarus, Telémahkos, Timotheus, Markos and Victoria walked down the main thoroughfare, where guards were lighting lanterns at the edge of the entrance to each cluster of buildings, lighting their way.
. . .to be continued…
----------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(1) Lieutenant Ferris Twelf is actually a cousin of Lorkas from the human side of his family. The party met Lorkas Twelf in Session #2.
