Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
"Second Son of a Second Son" - An Aquerra Story Hour (*finally* Updated 04/19)
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="el-remmen" data-source="post: 4617427" data-attributes="member: 11"><p><strong>Session #29 – “Bogged Down With Them Bog End Blues”</strong> [sup]1[/sup]</p><p></p><p>The Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland were led back to the New Harbinger Citadel, and given an opportunity to wash up and change clothes for dinner with Lord Swann and his family. Timotheus brought the letter from ‘Jeffry’ he had found in Oroleniel’s house over to Bleys to keep with the spellbook.</p><p></p><p>“Don’t read it,” Tim said when Bleys made to open it. “It is personal and has nothing to do with what is going on, but it should be kept safe with his things.”</p><p></p><p>As they gathered in the common area waiting to be summoned, Markos made a face at Telémahkos. “You are wearing armor,” the mage said. Telémahkos reacted by pulling his cloak around his shoulders to cover where his chain shirt was visible under his shirt.</p><p></p><p>“So?”</p><p></p><p>“That’s bad manners,” Markos said. “I mean, even <em>I</em> know that much…”</p><p></p><p>“Markos is correct,” Bleys said in his even tone. “Do you expect foul play?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, someone <em>is</em> trying to kill me,” Telémahkos said. “It is not about not trusting Lord Swann…”</p><p></p><p>“And yet, that is how it will be perceived…” Bleys replied. Telémahkos sighed angrily and stomped back to his cell to remove the chain shirt. </p><p></p><p>“Don’t worry, cousin! I got your back!” Timotheus called after him. </p><p></p><p>As Telémahkos came back down the hall, he noted some kind of creature floating down the hall towards the common room ahead of him. It was a levitating fleshy disk with two eyestalks atop it and several tentacles hanging beneath it. It was a dull gray color covered in spots of soft blue. It expelled gas from beneath its body through a tightened bladder and it scuttled along weirdly.</p><p></p><p>“A flumph!” Timotheus said happily as the thing entered the room, the fine flowery smell of its motivating gas filling the room. Telémahkos entered behind it.</p><p></p><p>“Didn’t your family have one?” Victoria asked with some shock.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, yeah up in Pyla’s there’s one, but I don’t spend much time there,” Tim replied.</p><p></p><p>“We had one briefly when I was young, but my father kept asking about what it’d be like in a soup…” Telémahkos said.</p><p></p><p>“Oh my!” The flumph’s voice was odd. It emerged from a broad bill-like mouth. It was deep and it cadence was odd. “The Signers of the Charter of Scheireiland are to follow me to dinner… I am called Prestik!”</p><p></p><p>The young nobles followed the flumph out of the common room and down the hall to the narrow steps that led to the Lord’s dining room.</p><p></p><p>They found the dining room to be much as they remembered it from their last dinner with the court of House Swann - a large chamber decorated with marble, with a broad open window with intricately carved painted wooden shutters that overlooked the harbor and Drie-Hoek Bay, shining in the dying light of the evening sun And for the most part the guests were the same. There was Novaluna Julia Swann, cousin of the lord, and sister to Sir Septimias Benedict Swann, who being involved in the fight against the Gold Straw Lizardfolk in the Crossroads Bog was not present. Julia was pretty and plump, and had cut her hair nearly to the scalp, save for some clumps of long hair near the front she had slicked back. It was an to unusual length for a Thrician of either gender. Sitting across from her was Octavia Camilla Swann, pale and petite, who sat beside the middle-aged Decima Aurora Swann, who Timotheus waved to enthusiastically. She had a nervous demeanor and a swollen face. Sir Decimus Wilmus Swann was not present, having traveled to the Golden Tower of the West to winter on the Captured Sea with his wife’s family. Among the guests was also Tiperol Dust, the Grand Vizier of the court, with his dusky skin and pointed dark beard, and Corwin Locksley, a man with long straight blond hair and soft features. And finally there was a man some inches shy of six feet with a bit of accustomed comfort about his belt, but who nonetheless was handsome. He had a gleam in his eye that was warm and appealing. He stood as the Signers entered, and greeted them. It was Novius Sebastian Swann, uncle to the Lord and youngest brother of the exiled Regent.[sup]2[/sup] </p><p></p><p>The servants closed the shutters and drew thick maroon curtains over them, as a chilling draft had been coming through it, and lamps and candles were lit.</p><p></p><p>The long table had three large bowls full of small bright red apples, chunks of smoked cheese and three large porcupine-apples. As soon as Timotheus sat and smiled at everyone he reached for one of the apples and took a big bite, which made everyone turn and look at him. The Lord had not arrived or been announced. No one was supposed to touch the food yet. Quickly, Julia Swann grabbed an apple as well and took an even larger and louder bite, and then smiled weakly at everyone at the table, but her eyes rested longest on Markos who was fighting to contain a laugh. Octavia Camilla Swann turned up her nose, and Decima Aurora tittered behind a kerchief. Telémahkos, Victoria and Laarus all glared at Timotheus, and the brawny warrior shrugged with embarrassment.</p><p></p><p>A moment later Lord Swann was announced, breaking the tension.</p><p></p><p>“I see you have met my wise and well-traveled uncle, Novius,” Young Lord Swann said, gesturing to him. “He is often abroad taking care of our House’s mercantile interests…”</p><p></p><p>“Really? Where have you traveled?” Victoria asked Novius, and he shared a tale of Haffar’s Port and the simultaneous increase in wealth and crime in that infamous city.</p><p></p><p>“In your opinion, what would it take to crack down on the increased piracy in the Wizard’s Sea?” Victoria asked.</p><p></p><p>“If you ask me, what we need do is go to the Kingdom of Herman Land’s aid against its traitorous protectorate,” Lord Swann interjected. “The sooner things normalize in the east, the sooner they will normalize here… But while more than half of Herman Land’s western fleet is in the east…?”</p><p></p><p>The table fell to a discussion of the merits and pitfalls of aiding Herman Land in their war, and the potential for unrest and chaos to spread across central Aquerra if Thricia were to do such a thing. Timotheus, who had little interest in world politics, fell to talking to Decima about her son Heydricus, who was being fostered at High Talon. “He’s doing great! He’s settled down a lot… He hasn’t broken any bones that I know of for a good while now…”</p><p></p><p>The dinner seemed to fly by with course after course of local favorites - thick white karnemilke, served with squares of hard bread, large plates of stampot and rookworst sausage, for dessert they enjoyed the sweetness of vla, a kind of milk custard covered in a variety of spices, but by this time, they had moved from the table, and were gathered in small groups talking around the dining room’s large hearth.[sup]3[/sup]</p><p></p><p>Julia Swann spoke to Markos and Bleys, expressing disappointment at her inability to go the Academy of Wizardry as she would have liked, but mentioned having a chance to attend the University of Thricia in the coming year. </p><p></p><p>“The University has a broader spectrum of academic interest,” Markos said.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, they will instruct anyone,” Bleys deadpanned. Julia could not help but smile and quickly look to see Markos’ reaction.</p><p></p><p>“…Only because they have better teachers…” Markos responded.</p><p></p><p>“The Academy focuses on quality not quantity,” Bleys said.</p><p></p><p>Before they could go on entertaining Julia with their banter, a servant came over to fetch Bleys. There was a citadel guard at the door to the dining room, waiting to escort him to see Oroleniel the Salmon. Markos and Telémahkos moved to follow, but the guard raised his hand. “The Lord has said only Master Bleys…” </p><p></p><p>Markos grumbled, and Telémahkos looked to Bleys, but they watch-mage’s face revealed no fear or worry.</p><p></p><p>“I have been bringing your colleague his meals for these many weeks,” the guard said, conversationally as he brought Bleys to another part of the citadel, an area that Bleys had never visited. The guard was young, with a reddish-brown beard and no mustache in the typical House Swann style. He wore a yellow tabard with a black swan upon it. Bleys expected to be led down towards the dungeons, but instead he was lead along long hallways that ran towards the rear wing of the immense structure. “I lament that there has been no elven food to bring him, however…”</p><p></p><p>Bleys the Aubergine said nothing in return.</p><p></p><p>“Do you know any elven foods?” the guard stopped and looked at him smiling.</p><p></p><p>“No.”</p><p></p><p>“I thought you might suggest some… But you do not know any elven foods? Do you know any elven at all?” the guard asked. He continued to lead the way.</p><p></p><p>“No,” Bleys replied. “What is your name?”</p><p></p><p>“Jeffry, sir…”</p><p></p><p>“Why do you ask these things?”</p><p></p><p>“I just thought Master Oroleniel might prefer to converse in his own tongue,” the guard suddenly seemed a bit nervous to Bleys. “It might make him more comfortable to speak in the language of his people… If only there was a way for you to understand him if he spoke in that tongue…” </p><p></p><p>A moment later they arrived at thick wooden door reinforced by bands of black steel. Jeffry took a key from his belt and slipped the key in the lock gently, but before turning it, knocked loudly. “Master Oroleniel, you have a visitor!” He called through the door before shoving it open. It was clearly heavy and fit snugly into its frame.</p><p></p><p>Beyond the door was something that was far from the cell one might imagine someone accused of treason would reside in. It was decorated and furnished as a fancy sitting room with a cot holding a feather mattress in one corner. There was a desk and small table with a tray of food. The room had its own potbelly stove, and a night table with a large bronze basin. There was a narrow shaft in the opposite wall, about two feet high and one foot wide, through which cold air seeped out. It must have lead to a window that overlooked the bay. Oroleniel the Salmon came around the table and folded his hands in front of him.</p><p></p><p>“At last…”</p><p></p><p>Jeffry left them, and Oroleniel gestured for Bleys to sit across him at the table.</p><p></p><p>“It is good that we can finally speak privately,” Bleys said.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, it is…” Oroeleniel opened his eyes and looked at Bleys from beneath his brow, while quickly touching two cupped fingers to his ear. He cocked his head back to the window shaft. Bleys nodded his understanding.</p><p></p><p>-------------------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>“It is good to have friends,” Novius Sebastian Swann said to the other Signers back in the dining room as he finished a harrowing tale of escape from pirates. They drank brandy and munched on warmed pastries filled with a warm sweet milk paste. Lord Septimias Giaus Swann had left with his Vizier soon after Bleys had, and Decima Aurora Swann excused herself soon after that.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, it is,” Victoria agreed. Novius seemed to address her more than the others, and had stopped his story on at least two occasions to ask her opinion on some fine point of battle or honor.</p><p></p><p>“And it is in times of adversity that the fastest friendships are forged,” the smiling man continued. Telémahkos. Timotheus and Markos all took sidelong glances at Laarus. “And sometimes unusual ones…”</p><p></p><p>“Speaking of unusual, have you ever traveled to the Kingdom of the Red God of the West? What do you know of the state of trade between our nations?” Telémahkos asked.</p><p></p><p>“Well… I of course would not know too much of that… But I have been to that strange land, though not very populated parts… It was back in my adventuring days…” Novius began another tale.</p><p></p><p>------------------------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Back in the small room where Oroleniel the Salmon was being held, the half-elven watch-mage moved the tray over and placed down a lacquered wooden board covered in letters, numbers and other symbols. The words ‘yes’ and ‘no’ in the top left and right corner respectively. In his hands he held a wooden ring that held a lens.</p><p></p><p>Bleys walked over from the stove, from where he had placed a small log inside, rubbing soot between his fingers. As he sat back down across from Oroleniel looking at the board, he pressed his finger on the edge of the plate, taking a few grains of salt.</p><p></p><p>“Since you are a diviner, I assume you know what this is?” Oroleniel asked. </p><p></p><p>“Yes, though I have never used one,” Bleys replied. “I always thought it was more an implement of witchcraft… Though there are some divinatory spells I have heard of that could use such a board as a focus… Why do you have it?”</p><p></p><p>“A curiosity I thought you might appreciate,” Oroleniel said, but as he spoke, he moved the lens set in the wooden frame over the letters, spelling out, “Signal to me.” He turned the board around.</p><p></p><p>“<em>Would you mind if I spoke some in elvish?</em>” Oroleniel asked in his mellifluous tongue.</p><p></p><p>Bleys nodded and then spoke some arcane words, casting <em>comprehend languages</em>.</p><p></p><p>“<em>I am sure you have many questions to ask me, so why don’t you ask them,</em>” Oroleniel said, continuing in elvish.</p><p></p><p>“Why don’t you just tell me what happened when you left here with Sir Septimias Benedict Swann?” Bleys asked.</p><p></p><p>Oroleniel nodded and began a long detailed account of the ride out to Bog End and then out into the Crossroads Bog. He spoke in common, but included asides and opinions in elvish and used the lens to point to ‘no’ when he was stretching some truth. He told of how Sir Septimias Benedict Swann’s over-confidence and desire for glory led him to make poor choices, and it was his fault the men-at-arms died, drawn into deep bogs by crafty muckdwellers that had nothing to do with Chok’tem’s tribe.</p><p></p><p>“Parleying with the lizardfolk once we actually found them was nearly impossible,” Oroleniel explained. “Sir Septimias was infuriated, certain that the muckdwellers were obeying the Goldstraw tribe, and he interpreted any act on their part that was not immediate obedience and surrender as threatening. While on watch one morning, I spotted lizardfolk approaching and went ahead to parley before Sir Septimias could wake up, but he found us and immediately accused me of being a traitor, but as my people say…”</p><p></p><p>And now Oroleniel the Salmon spoke in the elven tongue, but rather than any saying, he added to his tale. “Actually, he caught me the second time when we were trying to arrange for a way to pass the whereabouts of the evil lizardfolk back to me so I might lead the knights towards lizardfolk that actually are hostile…”</p><p></p><p>“Did you not try to explain yourself to Sir Septimias?” Bleys asked.</p><p></p><p>“Of course, but he was not about to listen to me or believe Chok’tem that a splinter group of his tribe had turned to worshiping the serpent god and were up to no good,” the half-elf explained, switching back to common tongue. “It was evident that he was unwilling to make any distinctions between lizardfolk.”</p><p></p><p>“What did you do then?” Bleys asked.</p><p></p><p>“Well, I was forced to use my magic to keep him and his men from killing Chok’tem and his rangers,” Oroleniel said. “And then of course, I had to flee myself when he threatened me with arrest…”</p><p></p><p>“And this was before or after Sir Septimias went to Gullmoor?” Bleys asked.</p><p></p><p>“After, I went with him to Gullmoor to recoup and gather more men,” Oroleniel answered. “When Sir Quintus Gosprey heard the news he hurried out to the bog with his squire and were never heard from again… It is said they both perished in the bog. Let me say a prayer for his soul in the tongue of my people…” But he did not say a prayer, instead he said, “Quintus and his squire were still alive last I saw them, and aiding Chok’tem in rooting out the evil lizardfolk who have abandoned their tribe… Furthermore, he believes that this is all a distraction to keep attention away from something going on in Moraes Heng, but he was never able to figure out exactly what, or explain why he thought this…”</p><p></p><p>Bleys nodded solemnly, but Oroleniel continued in elvish. “It is imperative that no one know of his survival so that he may continue to work unhindered and he not be forced to choose to fight against his comrades in arms.”</p><p></p><p>“And what would you have me do?” Bleys asked.</p><p></p><p>“It is imperative that you go to the Crossroads Bog and figure out what is going on for yourself and put an end to this needless violence,” Oroleniel said. “You and I both know that Chok’tem and his people may not want violence and want nothing more to contribute to cause of Thricia, but they will defend themselves if attacked and these honorable creatures will be driven off for having caused no ill.”</p><p></p><p>“I agree,” Bleys said. “Tell me, what do you know of MacHaven?”</p><p></p><p>“The bandit leader? Not much…”</p><p></p><p>“Do you think he is involved?” </p><p></p><p>“Before I decided to sneak back into New Harbinger to get my spellbook, I heard word in Bog End that the bandits were becoming more brazen…” Oroleniel replied. “It may be they are involved in whatever is going on, but I cannot say for sure…”</p><p></p><p>“Was Lorkas Twelf among those sent out of Gullmoor to aid Sir Septimias?” Bleys asked.</p><p></p><p>“Actually, he was… How did you know?” Oroleniel was looked puzzled.</p><p></p><p>“He is the only man aside from Sir Quintus that I know out of Gullmoor,” Bleys said.</p><p></p><p>“I believe he can be trusted to listen to reason…” Oroleniel said in Elvish again. “Tell me, I have been cut off from news here… How goes the Lizardbane’s efforts to slay or drive off the Goldstraw?”</p><p></p><p>“The lord informed us that he was able to burn down one of their villages and smash a number of lizardfolk eggs with the aid of Thricius of Anhur…”</p><p></p><p>Oroleniel’s head drooped. “That will make reconciliation even more difficult, if not impossible… But still, it must be attempted…”</p><p></p><p>“Now, what of this book? The Pillars of Thricia?” Bleys asked.</p><p></p><p>“Of that I cannot tell you…” Oroleniel looked down. “But I can say that I have no seditious intent against Thricia. The book was a gift and an intellectual curiosity…”</p><p></p><p>“Who gave it to you?” Bleys asked.</p><p></p><p>“I cannot say,” the half-elf watch-mage replied. He looked up.</p><p></p><p>“Lord Swann plans to bring this matter to the Margrave,” Bleys said.</p><p></p><p>Oroleniel laughed. “Let him! The Margrave has better things to do than to deal with this misunderstanding! The young lord will find himself adequately chastened for his overreaction and for imprisoning a watch-mage!” The half-elf smiled more broadly than Bleys had ever witnessed, and he winked and touched two fingers to his ear again.</p><p></p><p>“Very well, if there is nothing else I shall inform my companions of what is going on and we shall return to that area and investigate…” Bleys said.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, my advice is to either go into the Crossroads Bog and seek out the splinter group, or to go to Moraes Heng and see if you can get to the bottom of whatever is going on there, as the involvement of the soldiers from Gullmoor in the bog skirmishes means there is no one looking out for the people and lands there…”</p><p></p><p>Bleys nodded. Oroleniel the Salmon wished him well and that the gods watch over their efforts to bring justice to the land. They both stood and Bleys the Aubergine shook his colleague’s hand. He knocked on the door, and was led back to the dining room to meet up with the others.</p><p></p><p><em>…to be continued…</em></p><p></p><p>----------------------------------------------------</p><p><strong>Notes:</strong></p><p></p><p>[sup]1[/sup] Session #29 was played on Sunday, April 13, 2008 in Brooklyn, New York.</p><p> </p><p>[sup]2[/sup] The disagreement over Gaius taking power upon reaching 18 years of age rather than waiting until he was 21 as his father had willed and as his uncle, the regent, felt should be case, led to Octavian Benedict Swann being unofficially exiled from the court.</p><p></p><p>[sup]3[/sup] Special thanks to Markos’s player, John G. for doing research on some foods to use as local delicacies.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="el-remmen, post: 4617427, member: 11"] [b]Session #29 – “Bogged Down With Them Bog End Blues”[/b] [sup]1[/sup] The Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland were led back to the New Harbinger Citadel, and given an opportunity to wash up and change clothes for dinner with Lord Swann and his family. Timotheus brought the letter from ‘Jeffry’ he had found in Oroleniel’s house over to Bleys to keep with the spellbook. “Don’t read it,” Tim said when Bleys made to open it. “It is personal and has nothing to do with what is going on, but it should be kept safe with his things.” As they gathered in the common area waiting to be summoned, Markos made a face at Telémahkos. “You are wearing armor,” the mage said. Telémahkos reacted by pulling his cloak around his shoulders to cover where his chain shirt was visible under his shirt. “So?” “That’s bad manners,” Markos said. “I mean, even [I]I[/I] know that much…” “Markos is correct,” Bleys said in his even tone. “Do you expect foul play?” “Well, someone [I]is[/I] trying to kill me,” Telémahkos said. “It is not about not trusting Lord Swann…” “And yet, that is how it will be perceived…” Bleys replied. Telémahkos sighed angrily and stomped back to his cell to remove the chain shirt. “Don’t worry, cousin! I got your back!” Timotheus called after him. As Telémahkos came back down the hall, he noted some kind of creature floating down the hall towards the common room ahead of him. It was a levitating fleshy disk with two eyestalks atop it and several tentacles hanging beneath it. It was a dull gray color covered in spots of soft blue. It expelled gas from beneath its body through a tightened bladder and it scuttled along weirdly. “A flumph!” Timotheus said happily as the thing entered the room, the fine flowery smell of its motivating gas filling the room. Telémahkos entered behind it. “Didn’t your family have one?” Victoria asked with some shock. “Oh, yeah up in Pyla’s there’s one, but I don’t spend much time there,” Tim replied. “We had one briefly when I was young, but my father kept asking about what it’d be like in a soup…” Telémahkos said. “Oh my!” The flumph’s voice was odd. It emerged from a broad bill-like mouth. It was deep and it cadence was odd. “The Signers of the Charter of Scheireiland are to follow me to dinner… I am called Prestik!” The young nobles followed the flumph out of the common room and down the hall to the narrow steps that led to the Lord’s dining room. They found the dining room to be much as they remembered it from their last dinner with the court of House Swann - a large chamber decorated with marble, with a broad open window with intricately carved painted wooden shutters that overlooked the harbor and Drie-Hoek Bay, shining in the dying light of the evening sun And for the most part the guests were the same. There was Novaluna Julia Swann, cousin of the lord, and sister to Sir Septimias Benedict Swann, who being involved in the fight against the Gold Straw Lizardfolk in the Crossroads Bog was not present. Julia was pretty and plump, and had cut her hair nearly to the scalp, save for some clumps of long hair near the front she had slicked back. It was an to unusual length for a Thrician of either gender. Sitting across from her was Octavia Camilla Swann, pale and petite, who sat beside the middle-aged Decima Aurora Swann, who Timotheus waved to enthusiastically. She had a nervous demeanor and a swollen face. Sir Decimus Wilmus Swann was not present, having traveled to the Golden Tower of the West to winter on the Captured Sea with his wife’s family. Among the guests was also Tiperol Dust, the Grand Vizier of the court, with his dusky skin and pointed dark beard, and Corwin Locksley, a man with long straight blond hair and soft features. And finally there was a man some inches shy of six feet with a bit of accustomed comfort about his belt, but who nonetheless was handsome. He had a gleam in his eye that was warm and appealing. He stood as the Signers entered, and greeted them. It was Novius Sebastian Swann, uncle to the Lord and youngest brother of the exiled Regent.[sup]2[/sup] The servants closed the shutters and drew thick maroon curtains over them, as a chilling draft had been coming through it, and lamps and candles were lit. The long table had three large bowls full of small bright red apples, chunks of smoked cheese and three large porcupine-apples. As soon as Timotheus sat and smiled at everyone he reached for one of the apples and took a big bite, which made everyone turn and look at him. The Lord had not arrived or been announced. No one was supposed to touch the food yet. Quickly, Julia Swann grabbed an apple as well and took an even larger and louder bite, and then smiled weakly at everyone at the table, but her eyes rested longest on Markos who was fighting to contain a laugh. Octavia Camilla Swann turned up her nose, and Decima Aurora tittered behind a kerchief. Telémahkos, Victoria and Laarus all glared at Timotheus, and the brawny warrior shrugged with embarrassment. A moment later Lord Swann was announced, breaking the tension. “I see you have met my wise and well-traveled uncle, Novius,” Young Lord Swann said, gesturing to him. “He is often abroad taking care of our House’s mercantile interests…” “Really? Where have you traveled?” Victoria asked Novius, and he shared a tale of Haffar’s Port and the simultaneous increase in wealth and crime in that infamous city. “In your opinion, what would it take to crack down on the increased piracy in the Wizard’s Sea?” Victoria asked. “If you ask me, what we need do is go to the Kingdom of Herman Land’s aid against its traitorous protectorate,” Lord Swann interjected. “The sooner things normalize in the east, the sooner they will normalize here… But while more than half of Herman Land’s western fleet is in the east…?” The table fell to a discussion of the merits and pitfalls of aiding Herman Land in their war, and the potential for unrest and chaos to spread across central Aquerra if Thricia were to do such a thing. Timotheus, who had little interest in world politics, fell to talking to Decima about her son Heydricus, who was being fostered at High Talon. “He’s doing great! He’s settled down a lot… He hasn’t broken any bones that I know of for a good while now…” The dinner seemed to fly by with course after course of local favorites - thick white karnemilke, served with squares of hard bread, large plates of stampot and rookworst sausage, for dessert they enjoyed the sweetness of vla, a kind of milk custard covered in a variety of spices, but by this time, they had moved from the table, and were gathered in small groups talking around the dining room’s large hearth.[sup]3[/sup] Julia Swann spoke to Markos and Bleys, expressing disappointment at her inability to go the Academy of Wizardry as she would have liked, but mentioned having a chance to attend the University of Thricia in the coming year. “The University has a broader spectrum of academic interest,” Markos said. “Yes, they will instruct anyone,” Bleys deadpanned. Julia could not help but smile and quickly look to see Markos’ reaction. “…Only because they have better teachers…” Markos responded. “The Academy focuses on quality not quantity,” Bleys said. Before they could go on entertaining Julia with their banter, a servant came over to fetch Bleys. There was a citadel guard at the door to the dining room, waiting to escort him to see Oroleniel the Salmon. Markos and Telémahkos moved to follow, but the guard raised his hand. “The Lord has said only Master Bleys…” Markos grumbled, and Telémahkos looked to Bleys, but they watch-mage’s face revealed no fear or worry. “I have been bringing your colleague his meals for these many weeks,” the guard said, conversationally as he brought Bleys to another part of the citadel, an area that Bleys had never visited. The guard was young, with a reddish-brown beard and no mustache in the typical House Swann style. He wore a yellow tabard with a black swan upon it. Bleys expected to be led down towards the dungeons, but instead he was lead along long hallways that ran towards the rear wing of the immense structure. “I lament that there has been no elven food to bring him, however…” Bleys the Aubergine said nothing in return. “Do you know any elven foods?” the guard stopped and looked at him smiling. “No.” “I thought you might suggest some… But you do not know any elven foods? Do you know any elven at all?” the guard asked. He continued to lead the way. “No,” Bleys replied. “What is your name?” “Jeffry, sir…” “Why do you ask these things?” “I just thought Master Oroleniel might prefer to converse in his own tongue,” the guard suddenly seemed a bit nervous to Bleys. “It might make him more comfortable to speak in the language of his people… If only there was a way for you to understand him if he spoke in that tongue…” A moment later they arrived at thick wooden door reinforced by bands of black steel. Jeffry took a key from his belt and slipped the key in the lock gently, but before turning it, knocked loudly. “Master Oroleniel, you have a visitor!” He called through the door before shoving it open. It was clearly heavy and fit snugly into its frame. Beyond the door was something that was far from the cell one might imagine someone accused of treason would reside in. It was decorated and furnished as a fancy sitting room with a cot holding a feather mattress in one corner. There was a desk and small table with a tray of food. The room had its own potbelly stove, and a night table with a large bronze basin. There was a narrow shaft in the opposite wall, about two feet high and one foot wide, through which cold air seeped out. It must have lead to a window that overlooked the bay. Oroleniel the Salmon came around the table and folded his hands in front of him. “At last…” Jeffry left them, and Oroleniel gestured for Bleys to sit across him at the table. “It is good that we can finally speak privately,” Bleys said. “Yes, it is…” Oroeleniel opened his eyes and looked at Bleys from beneath his brow, while quickly touching two cupped fingers to his ear. He cocked his head back to the window shaft. Bleys nodded his understanding. ------------------------------------------------------- “It is good to have friends,” Novius Sebastian Swann said to the other Signers back in the dining room as he finished a harrowing tale of escape from pirates. They drank brandy and munched on warmed pastries filled with a warm sweet milk paste. Lord Septimias Giaus Swann had left with his Vizier soon after Bleys had, and Decima Aurora Swann excused herself soon after that. “Yes, it is,” Victoria agreed. Novius seemed to address her more than the others, and had stopped his story on at least two occasions to ask her opinion on some fine point of battle or honor. “And it is in times of adversity that the fastest friendships are forged,” the smiling man continued. Telémahkos. Timotheus and Markos all took sidelong glances at Laarus. “And sometimes unusual ones…” “Speaking of unusual, have you ever traveled to the Kingdom of the Red God of the West? What do you know of the state of trade between our nations?” Telémahkos asked. “Well… I of course would not know too much of that… But I have been to that strange land, though not very populated parts… It was back in my adventuring days…” Novius began another tale. ------------------------------------------------------------ Back in the small room where Oroleniel the Salmon was being held, the half-elven watch-mage moved the tray over and placed down a lacquered wooden board covered in letters, numbers and other symbols. The words ‘yes’ and ‘no’ in the top left and right corner respectively. In his hands he held a wooden ring that held a lens. Bleys walked over from the stove, from where he had placed a small log inside, rubbing soot between his fingers. As he sat back down across from Oroleniel looking at the board, he pressed his finger on the edge of the plate, taking a few grains of salt. “Since you are a diviner, I assume you know what this is?” Oroleniel asked. “Yes, though I have never used one,” Bleys replied. “I always thought it was more an implement of witchcraft… Though there are some divinatory spells I have heard of that could use such a board as a focus… Why do you have it?” “A curiosity I thought you might appreciate,” Oroleniel said, but as he spoke, he moved the lens set in the wooden frame over the letters, spelling out, “Signal to me.” He turned the board around. “[I]Would you mind if I spoke some in elvish?[/I]” Oroleniel asked in his mellifluous tongue. Bleys nodded and then spoke some arcane words, casting [I]comprehend languages[/I]. “[I]I am sure you have many questions to ask me, so why don’t you ask them,[/I]” Oroleniel said, continuing in elvish. “Why don’t you just tell me what happened when you left here with Sir Septimias Benedict Swann?” Bleys asked. Oroleniel nodded and began a long detailed account of the ride out to Bog End and then out into the Crossroads Bog. He spoke in common, but included asides and opinions in elvish and used the lens to point to ‘no’ when he was stretching some truth. He told of how Sir Septimias Benedict Swann’s over-confidence and desire for glory led him to make poor choices, and it was his fault the men-at-arms died, drawn into deep bogs by crafty muckdwellers that had nothing to do with Chok’tem’s tribe. “Parleying with the lizardfolk once we actually found them was nearly impossible,” Oroleniel explained. “Sir Septimias was infuriated, certain that the muckdwellers were obeying the Goldstraw tribe, and he interpreted any act on their part that was not immediate obedience and surrender as threatening. While on watch one morning, I spotted lizardfolk approaching and went ahead to parley before Sir Septimias could wake up, but he found us and immediately accused me of being a traitor, but as my people say…” And now Oroleniel the Salmon spoke in the elven tongue, but rather than any saying, he added to his tale. “Actually, he caught me the second time when we were trying to arrange for a way to pass the whereabouts of the evil lizardfolk back to me so I might lead the knights towards lizardfolk that actually are hostile…” “Did you not try to explain yourself to Sir Septimias?” Bleys asked. “Of course, but he was not about to listen to me or believe Chok’tem that a splinter group of his tribe had turned to worshiping the serpent god and were up to no good,” the half-elf explained, switching back to common tongue. “It was evident that he was unwilling to make any distinctions between lizardfolk.” “What did you do then?” Bleys asked. “Well, I was forced to use my magic to keep him and his men from killing Chok’tem and his rangers,” Oroleniel said. “And then of course, I had to flee myself when he threatened me with arrest…” “And this was before or after Sir Septimias went to Gullmoor?” Bleys asked. “After, I went with him to Gullmoor to recoup and gather more men,” Oroleniel answered. “When Sir Quintus Gosprey heard the news he hurried out to the bog with his squire and were never heard from again… It is said they both perished in the bog. Let me say a prayer for his soul in the tongue of my people…” But he did not say a prayer, instead he said, “Quintus and his squire were still alive last I saw them, and aiding Chok’tem in rooting out the evil lizardfolk who have abandoned their tribe… Furthermore, he believes that this is all a distraction to keep attention away from something going on in Moraes Heng, but he was never able to figure out exactly what, or explain why he thought this…” Bleys nodded solemnly, but Oroleniel continued in elvish. “It is imperative that no one know of his survival so that he may continue to work unhindered and he not be forced to choose to fight against his comrades in arms.” “And what would you have me do?” Bleys asked. “It is imperative that you go to the Crossroads Bog and figure out what is going on for yourself and put an end to this needless violence,” Oroleniel said. “You and I both know that Chok’tem and his people may not want violence and want nothing more to contribute to cause of Thricia, but they will defend themselves if attacked and these honorable creatures will be driven off for having caused no ill.” “I agree,” Bleys said. “Tell me, what do you know of MacHaven?” “The bandit leader? Not much…” “Do you think he is involved?” “Before I decided to sneak back into New Harbinger to get my spellbook, I heard word in Bog End that the bandits were becoming more brazen…” Oroleniel replied. “It may be they are involved in whatever is going on, but I cannot say for sure…” “Was Lorkas Twelf among those sent out of Gullmoor to aid Sir Septimias?” Bleys asked. “Actually, he was… How did you know?” Oroleniel was looked puzzled. “He is the only man aside from Sir Quintus that I know out of Gullmoor,” Bleys said. “I believe he can be trusted to listen to reason…” Oroleniel said in Elvish again. “Tell me, I have been cut off from news here… How goes the Lizardbane’s efforts to slay or drive off the Goldstraw?” “The lord informed us that he was able to burn down one of their villages and smash a number of lizardfolk eggs with the aid of Thricius of Anhur…” Oroleniel’s head drooped. “That will make reconciliation even more difficult, if not impossible… But still, it must be attempted…” “Now, what of this book? The Pillars of Thricia?” Bleys asked. “Of that I cannot tell you…” Oroleniel looked down. “But I can say that I have no seditious intent against Thricia. The book was a gift and an intellectual curiosity…” “Who gave it to you?” Bleys asked. “I cannot say,” the half-elf watch-mage replied. He looked up. “Lord Swann plans to bring this matter to the Margrave,” Bleys said. Oroleniel laughed. “Let him! The Margrave has better things to do than to deal with this misunderstanding! The young lord will find himself adequately chastened for his overreaction and for imprisoning a watch-mage!” The half-elf smiled more broadly than Bleys had ever witnessed, and he winked and touched two fingers to his ear again. “Very well, if there is nothing else I shall inform my companions of what is going on and we shall return to that area and investigate…” Bleys said. “Yes, my advice is to either go into the Crossroads Bog and seek out the splinter group, or to go to Moraes Heng and see if you can get to the bottom of whatever is going on there, as the involvement of the soldiers from Gullmoor in the bog skirmishes means there is no one looking out for the people and lands there…” Bleys nodded. Oroleniel the Salmon wished him well and that the gods watch over their efforts to bring justice to the land. They both stood and Bleys the Aubergine shook his colleague’s hand. He knocked on the door, and was led back to the dining room to meet up with the others. [I]…to be continued…[/I] ---------------------------------------------------- [b]Notes:[/b] [sup]1[/sup] Session #29 was played on Sunday, April 13, 2008 in Brooklyn, New York. [sup]2[/sup] The disagreement over Gaius taking power upon reaching 18 years of age rather than waiting until he was 21 as his father had willed and as his uncle, the regent, felt should be case, led to Octavian Benedict Swann being unofficially exiled from the court. [sup]3[/sup] Special thanks to Markos’s player, John G. for doing research on some foods to use as local delicacies. [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
"Second Son of a Second Son" - An Aquerra Story Hour (*finally* Updated 04/19)
Top