Seravin's Tales of the Night Below (Two Updates this Week - 07/24/07)
- Thread starter Seravin
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RedShirtNo5 said:
merci -
From the sound of things the party made it to bottom of the mine and are about to fight the priests? Ouch. My guys were about 4th-ish and it got a little harried as I recalled. Still, it's do-able with a smart party and if the priests are only mostly co-ordinated.
Good luck to them...
Winter’s Journey
Religion can be a touchy subject. How much moreso within an empire ruled by divine right? According to the priests of Latina, the Emperor (or Emperess when those times occur) can trace direct lineage to Latina herself. There is no question that Latina is the supreme deity within the empire. Fortunately Latina is a reasonably tolerant deity, concerning herself with the ruling and safety of the realm; her subjects are allowed to worship as they please within certain limits.
As such, there are some two dozen other deities recognized by the Imperial government. Sarath (Latina’s General) of course stands highly in the eyes of the Empire, as does Eresk (The Vigiliant One). Avia, Braen, Calith, Dyana, Elis, Fon, Hyla, Jola, Kirel, Laton, Moran, Niela, Sheelegra, Tylan, Vieta, and Vion are all respected deities within the Empire.
Other deities are not so welcome in the Empire of Shtara. Worshipping any of the following deities will result in a charge of treason, presuming the worshipper could (would) be taken alive: Baresh the Deceiver, Dynessa of the Shadows, Lersa the Spiteful, Pars the Beast, Ruma the Greedy, Saluk the Reaver, and Tresh the Tyrant.
What of the other entities worshipped as deities?
What of the elven Corellon called Larethian, the Master-smith called Moradin, and the other entities given a nod of respect? All angels, says the Imperial church. The elves and the dwarfs do not worship in the way of humans and shrug their shoulders at the debates for there are more important things to talk about. As for the warrow, also called halflings, no one knows much about their Hidden Lords.
And the other, darker entities? The orcs worship Gruumsh and the goblins Maglubliyet. Obscure texts make reference to more monstrous entities called Blidloolpoolp and Maanzicoran; demons all. Perhaps they grant power or perhaps they are just different guises for the evil deities; but according to scripture sacred to Latina these things are not gods. Of course some cynics might ask what’s the difference if you’re granted powers by a supernatural entity beyond your ken? For now the answer is a matter of faith.
----
In the fallen dwarven citadel known as Khundrukar, Garundaryek speaks of many things. The hideous crone bears the wisdom of age and a sharp tongue honed on the wheel of time. As the Voice of Luthic, Garundaryek speaks the tales in order to pass on the laws and customs the tribe.
Garundaryek speaks and the orcs about her pause in their tasks and their mutterings. Now is the time of learning. “The humans can be trusting, especially when faced with a weaker foe.” She rasps with derision as she spits into a corner. “This is not true of all the humans, but it is true of the Five. The Bloodskull tribe was shattered at their feet and the Bloodskull treasures ran through their hands. Bloodskull slaves now serve the Five and the Bloodskull tribe is no more.”
Garundaryek gnaws on a bone for a bit as her teeth have begun to ache with age. Soon, perhaps within the time of two birthings, she will pass on. Today though, Garundaryek rules the cavern of females and children and not even the warriors will gainsay her word. A flare of pain in her teeth makes her grimace briefly and she throws the bone to the side with a snarl. Two children fight over the fallen bit of food and the shamaness grins at the tussle.
“The Five came to me in the cave then.” She raises her spindly arms, showing the bracers strapped to them. “My claws were sharp and we stood ready to defend the children. Then the littlest of the Five stepped forward and spoke. She spoke orcish like a goblin, but she understood the words of strength and knew of the defense of children.” The shamaness trailed off for a moment. “My hope is that a warrior will someday eat her heart, for she would make a powerful wise-woman of the tribe when she is reborn.” ’Or even a chieftan.’ Is the thought unsaid.
“Kess-tral is the name of the littlest of the Five and she bade us to make a journey through the upper darkness to the holes dug by men. ‘Wait there through two risings of the bright orb called the sun’, she bade. We had no where else to go so we did so. Ogurkek could not kill them, not even one. I might have killed one, but no more than that. Glory is for the warriors, the tribe is for the women." The listeners around the shamaness believed her every word.
"So we journeyed through the dark passages, following the routes given to us.” Garundaryek snorts here. “The humans are trusting. They told us to meet them in the man-holes, and trusted us to reach them unharmed. I knew of the passages from the talk of warriors. They are dangerous ways, filled with oozes and slimes, but we had nowhere else to go and the Kess-tral promised us the safety of another tribe, a stronger tribe.” Garundaryek snarled briefly. “A still living tribe.” The humans were trusting but we had no choice. The caves of the Bloodskull tribe were opened to the slimes and the jellies and we journeyed through the tunnels and arrived at last to bright, cold sky.”
One of the orc children, a young male, had won the bone prize with a yelp of victory. Garundaryek smiled visciously and kicked him. “Winning the prize is the not the same as keeping it.” She warned. As the child-orc tried to stand, his opponent - a female-child, jumped on him from behind, her little fists flailing. The young male-orc grunted and fell down again and the female-orc grabbed the bone and fled into the crowd.
Garundaryek chuckled as the young male-orc glared at the crowd for he would not dare give her the evil eye. He had learned two lessons for only a little bone. It was a good day.
“The second time the sun raised itself, three of the Five met us; the witch-elf, the singing-one, and the Ash-imar-human. When the sun was almost set we journeyed through the hills until we came to the great river.
Humans are crafty creatures and have devised a wayof traveling upon water. We had never seen the like in the caves below, but the wood that can burn can also float. Remember that rivers are no longer as dangerous or impassable to the humans. The Kess-tral and the human called Kill-rawn met us with the boats, two of them. They bade us to get on the boats and we journeyed down the river towards the setting sun.
The humans rested at night, though they kept guard against us in case we attacked them in their weakness. Humans are not all stupid. When the sun rose we traveled on the waters again, huddled under blankets to shield us from the harsh sun and chilling cold.
The chilling cold is a warning from the gods, do not ignore it.
That night while the humans rested, the gods descended upon the land, covering everything in the powdery-ice. I was awake that night as the white powder fell from the sky. We could have lost some of the smallest children save for the power of Luthic.” Garundaryek looked in the eyes of each of the women. “Luthic spoke in my ear that day and warned me of the sudden cold. My prayers for the tribe placated her and thus we were spared.
Not so the Five. A demon came down from the mountains that night, heralding the cold with a screaming wind. The Kess-tral and the Ash-imar were watching as the lesser bright orb called Jola was high. It stalked down from the mountains, bringing the gale of wind and ice with it. The tales of the Spiked Skulls call it a winter-demon, an elemental thing of ice and a herald of winter. Whatever it’s name, the demon was furious with the Kess-tral for some reason. It stalked across the river and came to attack her. The Kess-tral was fast though and she had the protection of her warrior, the Ash-imar.
The two humans fought like goblins but with the strength of orcs. It was almost not enough. The cold of the winter-demon cut like a hundred knives and its claws were like swords. Perhaps the Kes-tral and the Ash-imar could have killed it, perhaps not, but humans protect their own. The Kill-rawn, the witch-elf, and the singing one were awakened by the long battle and they strode out into the swirling white powder and soon the winter-demon was vanquished, leaving behind only ice-chunks. The wind died down and the white powder fell slower. When the sun rose again we set out on the boats with only a fingertip of the powdery-ice to remind us of the god’s power.”
Garundaryek paused in thought for a moment. “I do not know why the winter-demon came or why it was after the Kess-tral*. The tales of the Spiked Skulls say its death delayed the coming of winter though. By the time we reached the human city called Blasingdale the powdery-ice was gone from the land.
At the human city we left the boats and walked towards the tall mountains. The Kess-tral and the Kill-rawn left us to enter the human city. By the coming of night they met us again with sledges on wheels.”
Garundaryek stopped speaking and stared off into the darkness, apparently not seeing those around her. It didn’t take long for the younger orc-children to start fidgeting, and even the female orcs started to look at each other nervously as the silence grew long. No one dared move though. Garundaryek would not tolerate an incomplete lesson.
Eventually the ancient-looking shamaness began to speak again, shaking off whatever trance had gripped her. “Two days. We traveled two more days into the hills. On the second day we met the warriors of the Spiked Skulls. The warriors were confident and proud as befits a strong clan and challenged the Five with the orc-females and children.
Only the Kess-tral could understand these new warriors though; and when she spoke to these warriors she spoke as a proper orc. The Kess-tral was wise and had learned the little wisdoms of the orcs that I chose to share. I knew the Kess-tral’s impression would shape our status with the new tribe.
The Kess-tral is the smallest of the Five, small even for a human, barely larger than a child-orc. She spoke like an orc but did not earn the warrior’s respect.” Garundaryek smiled. “Not at first. She almost fought the warriors there on the road until the Ash-imar stepped forward to proclaim her as his woman. I knew the Kess-tral by then, she was not pleased. Still, she managed to gain passage to meet with Chief Garuktok of the Spiked Skulls tribe
Chief Garuktok laughed at the Kess-tral, amused by the small human-child; but the Kess-tral spoke like a warrior and spoke with spirit of a warrior. She brought letters from the merchants of the human city and she brought the tribe of the Spiked Skulls females and children to make their clan stronger. She also brought gifts of food and steel. In return for these gifts the chief made a feast for the Five and the tribe members and he granted the Kess-tral a request for vengeance because it amused him.
That night, during the feast, the Kess-tral met the most offensive warrior in battle. She killed him with two blows by the strength of her own hand.”
Garundaryek grinned evilly. “The Kess-tral is now a warrior and thus has her name. Be wary of the Five from the Empire tribe for even the smallest one is dangerous and cunning. Be wary of the Five from the Empire tribe for their ways our not ours. They can kill all the warriors or make a new tribe stronger, on whim alone. They fight the winter-demons and they fight the things in the dark beyond all sight. There is only one lesson in this tale worth remembering – beware the Five of the Empire tribe.”
------
* - I’ve been revisiting my Charles DeLint books around about this time and pulled out an ice para-elemental from the Manual of the Planes. The vague idea was that the elemental was heralding the coming of an early winter and was enraged by Kestral’s ring as it passed by the camp.
The party never found this out as there weren’t a lot of clues and I never did anything else with it. Later after I reorganized the calendar, I found out how early a winter it would have been (it’s late August about now – I think at the time I thought it was late September).
- Next time, more fun from the charcter's point of view...
Religion can be a touchy subject. How much moreso within an empire ruled by divine right? According to the priests of Latina, the Emperor (or Emperess when those times occur) can trace direct lineage to Latina herself. There is no question that Latina is the supreme deity within the empire. Fortunately Latina is a reasonably tolerant deity, concerning herself with the ruling and safety of the realm; her subjects are allowed to worship as they please within certain limits.
As such, there are some two dozen other deities recognized by the Imperial government. Sarath (Latina’s General) of course stands highly in the eyes of the Empire, as does Eresk (The Vigiliant One). Avia, Braen, Calith, Dyana, Elis, Fon, Hyla, Jola, Kirel, Laton, Moran, Niela, Sheelegra, Tylan, Vieta, and Vion are all respected deities within the Empire.
Other deities are not so welcome in the Empire of Shtara. Worshipping any of the following deities will result in a charge of treason, presuming the worshipper could (would) be taken alive: Baresh the Deceiver, Dynessa of the Shadows, Lersa the Spiteful, Pars the Beast, Ruma the Greedy, Saluk the Reaver, and Tresh the Tyrant.
What of the other entities worshipped as deities?
What of the elven Corellon called Larethian, the Master-smith called Moradin, and the other entities given a nod of respect? All angels, says the Imperial church. The elves and the dwarfs do not worship in the way of humans and shrug their shoulders at the debates for there are more important things to talk about. As for the warrow, also called halflings, no one knows much about their Hidden Lords.
And the other, darker entities? The orcs worship Gruumsh and the goblins Maglubliyet. Obscure texts make reference to more monstrous entities called Blidloolpoolp and Maanzicoran; demons all. Perhaps they grant power or perhaps they are just different guises for the evil deities; but according to scripture sacred to Latina these things are not gods. Of course some cynics might ask what’s the difference if you’re granted powers by a supernatural entity beyond your ken? For now the answer is a matter of faith.
----
In the fallen dwarven citadel known as Khundrukar, Garundaryek speaks of many things. The hideous crone bears the wisdom of age and a sharp tongue honed on the wheel of time. As the Voice of Luthic, Garundaryek speaks the tales in order to pass on the laws and customs the tribe.
Garundaryek speaks and the orcs about her pause in their tasks and their mutterings. Now is the time of learning. “The humans can be trusting, especially when faced with a weaker foe.” She rasps with derision as she spits into a corner. “This is not true of all the humans, but it is true of the Five. The Bloodskull tribe was shattered at their feet and the Bloodskull treasures ran through their hands. Bloodskull slaves now serve the Five and the Bloodskull tribe is no more.”
Garundaryek gnaws on a bone for a bit as her teeth have begun to ache with age. Soon, perhaps within the time of two birthings, she will pass on. Today though, Garundaryek rules the cavern of females and children and not even the warriors will gainsay her word. A flare of pain in her teeth makes her grimace briefly and she throws the bone to the side with a snarl. Two children fight over the fallen bit of food and the shamaness grins at the tussle.
“The Five came to me in the cave then.” She raises her spindly arms, showing the bracers strapped to them. “My claws were sharp and we stood ready to defend the children. Then the littlest of the Five stepped forward and spoke. She spoke orcish like a goblin, but she understood the words of strength and knew of the defense of children.” The shamaness trailed off for a moment. “My hope is that a warrior will someday eat her heart, for she would make a powerful wise-woman of the tribe when she is reborn.” ’Or even a chieftan.’ Is the thought unsaid.
“Kess-tral is the name of the littlest of the Five and she bade us to make a journey through the upper darkness to the holes dug by men. ‘Wait there through two risings of the bright orb called the sun’, she bade. We had no where else to go so we did so. Ogurkek could not kill them, not even one. I might have killed one, but no more than that. Glory is for the warriors, the tribe is for the women." The listeners around the shamaness believed her every word.
"So we journeyed through the dark passages, following the routes given to us.” Garundaryek snorts here. “The humans are trusting. They told us to meet them in the man-holes, and trusted us to reach them unharmed. I knew of the passages from the talk of warriors. They are dangerous ways, filled with oozes and slimes, but we had nowhere else to go and the Kess-tral promised us the safety of another tribe, a stronger tribe.” Garundaryek snarled briefly. “A still living tribe.” The humans were trusting but we had no choice. The caves of the Bloodskull tribe were opened to the slimes and the jellies and we journeyed through the tunnels and arrived at last to bright, cold sky.”
One of the orc children, a young male, had won the bone prize with a yelp of victory. Garundaryek smiled visciously and kicked him. “Winning the prize is the not the same as keeping it.” She warned. As the child-orc tried to stand, his opponent - a female-child, jumped on him from behind, her little fists flailing. The young male-orc grunted and fell down again and the female-orc grabbed the bone and fled into the crowd.
Garundaryek chuckled as the young male-orc glared at the crowd for he would not dare give her the evil eye. He had learned two lessons for only a little bone. It was a good day.
“The second time the sun raised itself, three of the Five met us; the witch-elf, the singing-one, and the Ash-imar-human. When the sun was almost set we journeyed through the hills until we came to the great river.
Humans are crafty creatures and have devised a wayof traveling upon water. We had never seen the like in the caves below, but the wood that can burn can also float. Remember that rivers are no longer as dangerous or impassable to the humans. The Kess-tral and the human called Kill-rawn met us with the boats, two of them. They bade us to get on the boats and we journeyed down the river towards the setting sun.
The humans rested at night, though they kept guard against us in case we attacked them in their weakness. Humans are not all stupid. When the sun rose we traveled on the waters again, huddled under blankets to shield us from the harsh sun and chilling cold.
The chilling cold is a warning from the gods, do not ignore it.
That night while the humans rested, the gods descended upon the land, covering everything in the powdery-ice. I was awake that night as the white powder fell from the sky. We could have lost some of the smallest children save for the power of Luthic.” Garundaryek looked in the eyes of each of the women. “Luthic spoke in my ear that day and warned me of the sudden cold. My prayers for the tribe placated her and thus we were spared.
Not so the Five. A demon came down from the mountains that night, heralding the cold with a screaming wind. The Kess-tral and the Ash-imar were watching as the lesser bright orb called Jola was high. It stalked down from the mountains, bringing the gale of wind and ice with it. The tales of the Spiked Skulls call it a winter-demon, an elemental thing of ice and a herald of winter. Whatever it’s name, the demon was furious with the Kess-tral for some reason. It stalked across the river and came to attack her. The Kess-tral was fast though and she had the protection of her warrior, the Ash-imar.
The two humans fought like goblins but with the strength of orcs. It was almost not enough. The cold of the winter-demon cut like a hundred knives and its claws were like swords. Perhaps the Kes-tral and the Ash-imar could have killed it, perhaps not, but humans protect their own. The Kill-rawn, the witch-elf, and the singing one were awakened by the long battle and they strode out into the swirling white powder and soon the winter-demon was vanquished, leaving behind only ice-chunks. The wind died down and the white powder fell slower. When the sun rose again we set out on the boats with only a fingertip of the powdery-ice to remind us of the god’s power.”
Garundaryek paused in thought for a moment. “I do not know why the winter-demon came or why it was after the Kess-tral*. The tales of the Spiked Skulls say its death delayed the coming of winter though. By the time we reached the human city called Blasingdale the powdery-ice was gone from the land.
At the human city we left the boats and walked towards the tall mountains. The Kess-tral and the Kill-rawn left us to enter the human city. By the coming of night they met us again with sledges on wheels.”
Garundaryek stopped speaking and stared off into the darkness, apparently not seeing those around her. It didn’t take long for the younger orc-children to start fidgeting, and even the female orcs started to look at each other nervously as the silence grew long. No one dared move though. Garundaryek would not tolerate an incomplete lesson.
Eventually the ancient-looking shamaness began to speak again, shaking off whatever trance had gripped her. “Two days. We traveled two more days into the hills. On the second day we met the warriors of the Spiked Skulls. The warriors were confident and proud as befits a strong clan and challenged the Five with the orc-females and children.
Only the Kess-tral could understand these new warriors though; and when she spoke to these warriors she spoke as a proper orc. The Kess-tral was wise and had learned the little wisdoms of the orcs that I chose to share. I knew the Kess-tral’s impression would shape our status with the new tribe.
The Kess-tral is the smallest of the Five, small even for a human, barely larger than a child-orc. She spoke like an orc but did not earn the warrior’s respect.” Garundaryek smiled. “Not at first. She almost fought the warriors there on the road until the Ash-imar stepped forward to proclaim her as his woman. I knew the Kess-tral by then, she was not pleased. Still, she managed to gain passage to meet with Chief Garuktok of the Spiked Skulls tribe
Chief Garuktok laughed at the Kess-tral, amused by the small human-child; but the Kess-tral spoke like a warrior and spoke with spirit of a warrior. She brought letters from the merchants of the human city and she brought the tribe of the Spiked Skulls females and children to make their clan stronger. She also brought gifts of food and steel. In return for these gifts the chief made a feast for the Five and the tribe members and he granted the Kess-tral a request for vengeance because it amused him.
That night, during the feast, the Kess-tral met the most offensive warrior in battle. She killed him with two blows by the strength of her own hand.”
Garundaryek grinned evilly. “The Kess-tral is now a warrior and thus has her name. Be wary of the Five from the Empire tribe for even the smallest one is dangerous and cunning. Be wary of the Five from the Empire tribe for their ways our not ours. They can kill all the warriors or make a new tribe stronger, on whim alone. They fight the winter-demons and they fight the things in the dark beyond all sight. There is only one lesson in this tale worth remembering – beware the Five of the Empire tribe.”
------
* - I’ve been revisiting my Charles DeLint books around about this time and pulled out an ice para-elemental from the Manual of the Planes. The vague idea was that the elemental was heralding the coming of an early winter and was enraged by Kestral’s ring as it passed by the camp.
The party never found this out as there weren’t a lot of clues and I never did anything else with it. Later after I reorganized the calendar, I found out how early a winter it would have been (it’s late August about now – I think at the time I thought it was late September).
- Next time, more fun from the charcter's point of view...
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Time in Between
A crisp, brittle cold filled the night air around Thurmaster. The surprise snow from ten days ago was long gone, but the night air was filled with the promise of a winter soon to come. Kellron gazed at the dilapidated inn called the Hounds and Tails and grimaced. There was no telling what was going to happen now.
The front door opened and Ashimar walked out, looking around. Spotting Kellron the initiate of Sarath and former rogue padded silently towards his brooding friend.
The pair stood silent for a moment contemplating the inn.
“Nice night.” Commented the former street-rogue.
“Cold though.” Replied Kellron
“Will probably snow soon. The last one was early.”
“Looks like we’ll miss part of it at least.”
Ashimar nodded at the change of subject and the agreement. “You think they’ll help?” He asked Kellron. “This Car-mar-aren didn’t seem to trust us.” He spoke the name slowly, enunciating every syllable carefully.
Kellron shrugged and thought back over their meeting with the bald, rock woman. They called themselves gnomes and stood barely the height of a halfing. Their skin was a dark, grayish color and they were nearly hairless. The gnome spokeswoman had looked at them all suspiciously, but she was the one who had started the talking.
Fortunately Kestral had a natural facility with languages. The fomer courier (they hadn’t ‘worked’ in over a month) claimed that she could speak six languages when she had first met the group and since then had picked up a smattering of four more in the last three months. One of those four languages was a common under-tongue which allowed her to talk somewhat haltingly with these gnomes.
The news hadn’t been good and had taken the wind out of their success with the orcs and the freeing of Semheis. The orcs were only a link in the kidnapping chain. Creatures called illithids (also known as mind flayers by the Library) were behind the kidnappings, taking the slaves from the orcs for some unknown purpose.
Carmararen would not say much else; she wanted to test the party first to make sure that whatever they did wouldn’t bring doom upon her people. So an agreement was reached. The group would come back and meet her scouts inside of a month, prepared for an extended journey beneath the ground. It would be a test of fitness of arms for Carmararen wanted them to eliminate a nest of trolls. If the party could do this task then she felt they would be capable enough to use the information that she could pass on to them. Kellron’s faith allowed him to ignore fear, but that didn’t mean he looked forward to this test.
Kellron grinned finally and truned to answer Ashimar. “We were in the middle of an orc cave covered in blood.” He pointed out.
Ashimar grinned also. “That’s right, you smelled like an orc for two days until Jallarzi could magic the stench out of your amor. No wonder Carmararen seemed suspicious.”
Kellron gave his friend a side-long glance and clapped him on the back. “Maybe.” He admitted. “But I don’t think that’s it.” The two young men were nearly the same age, neither quite twenty years of age, and they had radically different upbringings; but in the past three months they had come fast friends – brothers in all but name.
Ashimar looked at the inn and snorted in disgust. “The place is a dump.”
Kellron sighed. “Yes it is.”
“And the food…” He trailed off. It didn’t pay to think about the food.
Kellron nodded. He had an iron stomach, but the last time they had stayed here they had been awakened by the sound of people heaving the evening’s meal outside their window. Quite frankly even getting the food down showed a certain amount of intestinal fortitude.
Ashimar continued on a different tract. “At least the rooms keep the bugs warm.” He said comfortingly.
“You know if you keep this up they won’t let you stay here.”
“That okay. I know the owner. You already said we could stay for free.”
“I must have been out of mind. Besides, the place isn’t mine until I register the sale with Squire Marlen in the morning and get his seal. Then I’ll be a tax paying landholder.” Kellron looked over the inn. “It’s probably not worth four thousand lions, but I think with a bit of work I’ll earn it back. We’re near Corlean and on the route to Blasingdale. With a little bit of care it can earn some money again.” He snorted. “At the very least it will be a nice place to stay from now on. I think Alice can manage the place while I’m gone.”
“Alice is…?”
“The barwoman. The older one with the black hair.”
Ashimar nodded sagely. “Tough looking woman. She doesn’t look like she’ll take any nonsense.” The two men looked at the inn again.
“Lets go inside.” Said Kellron. “It’s getting cold.”
Ashimar grinned and rubbed his hands up and down and arms. “I was hoping you would say it first.” As he started inside. “Best of luck on this.” He added before they reached the door. “I wouldn’t mind a cheap place to stay.”
“I was shooting for clean.”
A crisp, brittle cold filled the night air around Thurmaster. The surprise snow from ten days ago was long gone, but the night air was filled with the promise of a winter soon to come. Kellron gazed at the dilapidated inn called the Hounds and Tails and grimaced. There was no telling what was going to happen now.
The front door opened and Ashimar walked out, looking around. Spotting Kellron the initiate of Sarath and former rogue padded silently towards his brooding friend.
The pair stood silent for a moment contemplating the inn.
“Nice night.” Commented the former street-rogue.
“Cold though.” Replied Kellron
“Will probably snow soon. The last one was early.”
“Looks like we’ll miss part of it at least.”
Ashimar nodded at the change of subject and the agreement. “You think they’ll help?” He asked Kellron. “This Car-mar-aren didn’t seem to trust us.” He spoke the name slowly, enunciating every syllable carefully.
Kellron shrugged and thought back over their meeting with the bald, rock woman. They called themselves gnomes and stood barely the height of a halfing. Their skin was a dark, grayish color and they were nearly hairless. The gnome spokeswoman had looked at them all suspiciously, but she was the one who had started the talking.
Fortunately Kestral had a natural facility with languages. The fomer courier (they hadn’t ‘worked’ in over a month) claimed that she could speak six languages when she had first met the group and since then had picked up a smattering of four more in the last three months. One of those four languages was a common under-tongue which allowed her to talk somewhat haltingly with these gnomes.
The news hadn’t been good and had taken the wind out of their success with the orcs and the freeing of Semheis. The orcs were only a link in the kidnapping chain. Creatures called illithids (also known as mind flayers by the Library) were behind the kidnappings, taking the slaves from the orcs for some unknown purpose.
Carmararen would not say much else; she wanted to test the party first to make sure that whatever they did wouldn’t bring doom upon her people. So an agreement was reached. The group would come back and meet her scouts inside of a month, prepared for an extended journey beneath the ground. It would be a test of fitness of arms for Carmararen wanted them to eliminate a nest of trolls. If the party could do this task then she felt they would be capable enough to use the information that she could pass on to them. Kellron’s faith allowed him to ignore fear, but that didn’t mean he looked forward to this test.
Kellron grinned finally and truned to answer Ashimar. “We were in the middle of an orc cave covered in blood.” He pointed out.
Ashimar grinned also. “That’s right, you smelled like an orc for two days until Jallarzi could magic the stench out of your amor. No wonder Carmararen seemed suspicious.”
Kellron gave his friend a side-long glance and clapped him on the back. “Maybe.” He admitted. “But I don’t think that’s it.” The two young men were nearly the same age, neither quite twenty years of age, and they had radically different upbringings; but in the past three months they had come fast friends – brothers in all but name.
Ashimar looked at the inn and snorted in disgust. “The place is a dump.”
Kellron sighed. “Yes it is.”
“And the food…” He trailed off. It didn’t pay to think about the food.
Kellron nodded. He had an iron stomach, but the last time they had stayed here they had been awakened by the sound of people heaving the evening’s meal outside their window. Quite frankly even getting the food down showed a certain amount of intestinal fortitude.
Ashimar continued on a different tract. “At least the rooms keep the bugs warm.” He said comfortingly.
“You know if you keep this up they won’t let you stay here.”
“That okay. I know the owner. You already said we could stay for free.”
“I must have been out of mind. Besides, the place isn’t mine until I register the sale with Squire Marlen in the morning and get his seal. Then I’ll be a tax paying landholder.” Kellron looked over the inn. “It’s probably not worth four thousand lions, but I think with a bit of work I’ll earn it back. We’re near Corlean and on the route to Blasingdale. With a little bit of care it can earn some money again.” He snorted. “At the very least it will be a nice place to stay from now on. I think Alice can manage the place while I’m gone.”
“Alice is…?”
“The barwoman. The older one with the black hair.”
Ashimar nodded sagely. “Tough looking woman. She doesn’t look like she’ll take any nonsense.” The two men looked at the inn again.
“Lets go inside.” Said Kellron. “It’s getting cold.”
Ashimar grinned and rubbed his hands up and down and arms. “I was hoping you would say it first.” As he started inside. “Best of luck on this.” He added before they reached the door. “I wouldn’t mind a cheap place to stay.”
“I was shooting for clean.”
Dreams of Water
Years ago, as a child, she had seen the sea; blue and magnificent. The sun glinted off the surface with blinding silver sparkles. Suddenly then is now. Beneath the water she can just make out moving shapes. She moves closer, hoping to see more. There is a crashing sound but she doesn’t understand what she hears.
”The analysis has come back. My friend writes that the information I provided was detailed enough to help.” The voice is firm, but labors under the weight of age.
The taste and smell of salt surrounded her and bubbles streamed from her mouth. There is no up or down, the pull of the tide was overwhelming. A dozen mutli-colored fish swam past her stinging vision, drawn by the same inexorable pull. The water roils about her, speaking, but still she cannot understand.
”I can barely credit it, but Mortenson has found that the symbol can be directly tied to the Courts of Water. There is a wonderment in the voice. Specifically, the placement of this dot here indicates that this is a symbol of the royal family.”
The air is gone and her lungs burn. There’s a pounding in her ears that overwhelms the sounds that she can only almost understand.
”If Mortenson is right, you have a signet ring that belongs to a member of the Courts of Water. There is a thoughtful pause. It would certainly explain the weight of its aura. I would suggest you return it, but I haven’t the faintest idea of how. The sea is a long way away and the Courts are further still.”
It has been the same dream night after night. The pounding blood will soon wake her and she’ll find that it’s Kellron snoring.
“Breathe.”
The noise startles her. It’s not the quavering voice. This voice, this word, crashes across her self like the surf that drug her in. Reflexively she opens her mouth and sucks in pure, sweet, water.
She is breathing. But more importantly she understands the voice of the surf. It sings to her and she can sing back.*
Kestral sleeps soundly for the rest of the evening.
*Kestral leveled and picked up Aquan. Until now she had been making an effort to spend time researching the various languages she had been learning (at least one every level). She got this language because of the ring. The group also got a report back from Tauster on the nature of the ring they had traded the goblins for.
edit: spelling and grammar imps were banished.
Years ago, as a child, she had seen the sea; blue and magnificent. The sun glinted off the surface with blinding silver sparkles. Suddenly then is now. Beneath the water she can just make out moving shapes. She moves closer, hoping to see more. There is a crashing sound but she doesn’t understand what she hears.
”The analysis has come back. My friend writes that the information I provided was detailed enough to help.” The voice is firm, but labors under the weight of age.
The taste and smell of salt surrounded her and bubbles streamed from her mouth. There is no up or down, the pull of the tide was overwhelming. A dozen mutli-colored fish swam past her stinging vision, drawn by the same inexorable pull. The water roils about her, speaking, but still she cannot understand.
”I can barely credit it, but Mortenson has found that the symbol can be directly tied to the Courts of Water. There is a wonderment in the voice. Specifically, the placement of this dot here indicates that this is a symbol of the royal family.”
The air is gone and her lungs burn. There’s a pounding in her ears that overwhelms the sounds that she can only almost understand.
”If Mortenson is right, you have a signet ring that belongs to a member of the Courts of Water. There is a thoughtful pause. It would certainly explain the weight of its aura. I would suggest you return it, but I haven’t the faintest idea of how. The sea is a long way away and the Courts are further still.”
It has been the same dream night after night. The pounding blood will soon wake her and she’ll find that it’s Kellron snoring.
“Breathe.”
The noise startles her. It’s not the quavering voice. This voice, this word, crashes across her self like the surf that drug her in. Reflexively she opens her mouth and sucks in pure, sweet, water.
She is breathing. But more importantly she understands the voice of the surf. It sings to her and she can sing back.*
Kestral sleeps soundly for the rest of the evening.
*Kestral leveled and picked up Aquan. Until now she had been making an effort to spend time researching the various languages she had been learning (at least one every level). She got this language because of the ring. The group also got a report back from Tauster on the nature of the ring they had traded the goblins for.
edit: spelling and grammar imps were banished.
Last edited:
Synopsis
Fourteen days had passed since the the five companions had defeated the orcs deep beneath the Thornwood and had talked with Carmararen of the gnomes. Those fourteen days had been busy.
There was a whirlwind trip to deliver the surviving orc women and children to the orcs that lived in Khundrukar. There was the side trip to Blasingdale where Ashimar finally picked up the magical gloves that conferred a cat-like grace. In Milbourne Jallarzi had finally taken the time to identify the captured magical items they had retrieved from the orcs. In Thurmaster Kellron had purchased the Hounds and Tails. It was in Thurmaster that Panther took his leave from the group. His restless spirit forced him to move on for awhile.*
Now the group was back in Milbourne. The previous evening they had spent with Kupier while on their way back from Thurmaster to Milbourne. They had brought the ranger up to date on their exploits. Kupier had been pleased to hear that the orcs were defeated, but he was less pleased to hear that another tribe of orcs had been strengthened with women and children. His time as an Imperial Scout had not left him with charitable feelings towards orcs.
The four friends had spent some time trying to figure out what they wished to do next. They did not have to see Carmararen immediately, but there wasn’t much time to do much else. A request from Garyld had eventually helped them decide. A friend of his, a woman called Shiraz, had a problem. A nearby lake called the Eelhold was home to several strange occurrences. The root of the problem was a captured water elemental that had been bound to the lake. The bindings were starting to slip now and the elemental was given to increasingly frequent rages. Something had to be done, though no one was sure what that ‘something’ was. Hopefully Kestral could talk to it.
In the morning they would set out with a Shiraz, a blonde-haired woman in her late twenties. She was a reserved woman with short, ash-blonde hair and dressed in well worn traveling leathers. Oddly, her travel kit looked light, but she explained that she was use to foraging as she went.
* Panther’s player dropped out for awhile.
Fourteen days had passed since the the five companions had defeated the orcs deep beneath the Thornwood and had talked with Carmararen of the gnomes. Those fourteen days had been busy.
There was a whirlwind trip to deliver the surviving orc women and children to the orcs that lived in Khundrukar. There was the side trip to Blasingdale where Ashimar finally picked up the magical gloves that conferred a cat-like grace. In Milbourne Jallarzi had finally taken the time to identify the captured magical items they had retrieved from the orcs. In Thurmaster Kellron had purchased the Hounds and Tails. It was in Thurmaster that Panther took his leave from the group. His restless spirit forced him to move on for awhile.*
Now the group was back in Milbourne. The previous evening they had spent with Kupier while on their way back from Thurmaster to Milbourne. They had brought the ranger up to date on their exploits. Kupier had been pleased to hear that the orcs were defeated, but he was less pleased to hear that another tribe of orcs had been strengthened with women and children. His time as an Imperial Scout had not left him with charitable feelings towards orcs.
The four friends had spent some time trying to figure out what they wished to do next. They did not have to see Carmararen immediately, but there wasn’t much time to do much else. A request from Garyld had eventually helped them decide. A friend of his, a woman called Shiraz, had a problem. A nearby lake called the Eelhold was home to several strange occurrences. The root of the problem was a captured water elemental that had been bound to the lake. The bindings were starting to slip now and the elemental was given to increasingly frequent rages. Something had to be done, though no one was sure what that ‘something’ was. Hopefully Kestral could talk to it.
In the morning they would set out with a Shiraz, a blonde-haired woman in her late twenties. She was a reserved woman with short, ash-blonde hair and dressed in well worn traveling leathers. Oddly, her travel kit looked light, but she explained that she was use to foraging as she went.
* Panther’s player dropped out for awhile.
Hey all,
Sorry for the long delay between posts. The project I've been working on the last two and a half months has finally gotten off the ground. We've gone from planning to doing. The one problem is that it put me in a little place called Valdez, Ak.
That said, I think I'm at a point where I can start posting a little more regularly - hopefully this Sunday will be productive.
thanks for the patience.
-seravin
Sorry for the long delay between posts. The project I've been working on the last two and a half months has finally gotten off the ground. We've gone from planning to doing. The one problem is that it put me in a little place called Valdez, Ak.
That said, I think I'm at a point where I can start posting a little more regularly - hopefully this Sunday will be productive.
thanks for the patience.
-seravin
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