Seravin's Tales of the Night Below (Two Updates this Week - 07/24/07)
- Thread starter Seravin
- Start date
A Step Back in Time
Just a quick step back in time to relate a scene that will soon become important.
----------
Some two months ago the arrival of five newcomers to the City of Corlean was remarked upon by a varied number of persons. It would be untruthful to say that there was nothing special about these newcomers. One was determined to be a member of the Sundering Sword and another was a new convert to the faith of Sarath. Still another was a rogue wizard of half-elven descent and another was a bard of some moderate skill, also with elven blood. The fifth? Well, not every member of a group has to be special. The fifth newcomer was a simple courier from places further south, special only in that she traveled with those of some note.
The new newcomer’s stay in town was brief and mostly uneventful. There were rumors of trouble at a ceremony honoring the returning Paladin, but it was nothing mre than a simple pick-pocket being caught by the vigilant priests.
For those with ears though there were other stories about these newcomers; stories of adventuring and heroism. More interesting though were stories of wealth. They had discovered the secrets of New Mire and had been well rewarded by the local landlord. They had found the lair of bandits and had recovered many months of ill-gotten gangs. Perhaps most interesting, they had found the lair of orcs and had recovered more wealth then even a lesser noble could expect to see in a year.
Still and all these were stories, but some stories have a kernel of truth at their center so eyes were sent to watch and ears set to listen. These eyes saw a suit of full-plate commissioned and enchanted. They further saw a shirt of mithril chain links purchased and paid for with gems and coin and a rapier enchanted by the smiths of the Church of Sarath.
The ears heard their share too and what they heard was that the stories only spoke truth. Bandits had risen in the county of Haranshire and now lay dead and defeated. The inn in Thurmaster had been paid for in coin by the paladin of Sarath. The ears decided that it was quite possible the stories were understated.
So it came to pass that towards the last evening of the newcomer’s stay in Corlean, they found themselves wending their way home through the darkened streets to the inn called the Scabbard.”
“I think we’re being followed.” Warned Ashimar quietly. “Two men behind us.”
Kellron’s hand drifted to his sword, still peace-tied but he was certain he could break it if he had to. “Is that why you’ve been weaving and stumbling?”
“Yeah. You guys go ahead. I’ll duck into the alley when round the corner and have a talk.”
“I thought you were drunk. You sure?”
Ashimar’s grin was hidden in the dark. “Mostly.”
--------
Thomas and Brand quickened their pace and rounded the corner, unwilling to let their marks get too far ahead. One of the marks had obviously enjoyed himself too much at the club they had left and had slowed the other four down; now they were trying to hurry back to their nest.
Thomas had briefly thought of waylaying the group, thinking that drink had probably slowed all the marks down, but he wasn’t willing to risk it. Besides, that wasn’t the job tonight. The two men came to a sudden stop, seeing the change almost immediately. The drunk one was gone.
A shadow stepped out of the alcove behind them.
“Ahem.”
The two men froze momentarily and they let their hands spread out from their sides, showing that they were unarmed. Well, apparently unarmed. They still had their knives hidden up their loose sleeves.
It was Brand who spoke first. “Can we help you, Sir?” He asked politely. Brand was the soft-spoken, quiet one of the pair and he was the spokesperson when called upon.
Ashimar smiled. “I’d like to know why you were following us.”
Brand cocked his head quizzically. “I’m not sure that I understand, Sir.”
“You’ve been following us. I know it. You know it. My four friends who have stopped up ahead and are now coming back this way know this. I want to know why.” Ashimar saw the uncertainty in both men’s eyes. He was willing to bet that they didn’t normally have to talk to their choosen prey. He tried a different tact. “It’s all right. I was in the business myself in Blasingdale. I know it’s not personal. Why don’t we have a drink and talk it over?”
Brand looked at Thomas who could only shrug. Brand looked Ashimar squarely in the eye and answered. “I guess there isn’t much harm in that. There’s a tavern just up the street. Not everyone though.”
Ashimar held his hand up to signal his friends. “Not everyone at the table. They’ll still be in the room.”
“Of course.”
--------------------
The tavern known as The Singing Harpy was quieter then the name implied. Located near the central square, the tavern catered mostly to off duty soldiers and watchmen. Neither Brand nor Thomas was entirely comfortable in the setting, but the job wasn’t about their comfort.
Ashimar, Brand, and Thomas were sitting down at a table. Sitting nearby at another table was Kellron, Kestral, Jallarzi, and Panther. The only person who looked happy was Ashimar. The barmaid laid the drinks down at Ashimar’s table, and Ashimar put down a gold lion. “Keep it.” He told the woman. She smiled at him reply as she bustled away.
“So. Why were you following us?” Asked Ashimar again.
Brand looked a little sheepish. “You know how it is.” He said, looking the room over again before turning his attention back to the former rogue. “We heard the stories and were interested.”
“What sort of stories?”
“You know. The money?” Brand chuckled, trying to allay the man’s suspicion. “Rumor says you dropped a thousand gold lions your first night in town and spent another five thousand over the last week. People say that you folks recovered over fifty thousand lions worth of coin and jewels.” The man shrugged. “People talk like that and other people get interested. You know what I mean?”
Ashimar chuckled back. “You have to be careful of stories.” He warned. “They’re not always true.”
Both Thomas and Brand managed another set of sheepish looks.
“Sure we found some coin, but people exaggerate.” Continued Ashimar. “But nothing like that. We only picked up ten thousand lions at the most and spent five hundred the first night.”
The former rouge missed it, but at the next table Kestral choked and then began coughing, almost spilling the rest of her drink across the table. Kellron graciously assisted her in recovering.
Ashimar contined on, oblivious to the minor scene at the next table. “So you see, there’s no reason to be following us anymore. We’ve spent a good portion of it and what’s left isn’t worth the trouble.”
Brand looked at Ashimar for a long moment, sizing up the man’s statements. “I see. Well, that puts it in a different light. I’m glad you decided to be civilized about all of this.”
Ashimar smiled expansively. “Not a problem. There’s no reason we can’t be reasonable, after all it’s not personal.” He drained his cup and signaled the barmaid. “Let’s have another couple rounds and you can go your way and let people know that the rumors are just rumors, and me and my friends can leave the city in peace and not hurt anyone. Deal?”
Brand saluted Ashimar. “Deal.”
--------
Later that night.
“So that’s it?” Asked Thomas to Brand as they made their way southward from the central square.
“That's it for tonight.”
“Pity they didn’t have any money.”
“I doubt it matters, and that’s not what he said anyway.”
Thomas looked at Brand quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“He said they spent most of it. Not all of it. I bet they still have some coin to go around.”
“So? Probably not enough to be worth it.”
“Not if it was coin. But they spent the coin on something. A lot of something’s I hear tell. The boss said that one was going to be wearing a shirt of mithril real soon. It doesn’t matter if they still have a lot of coin or not, they still have easily sellable stuff.”
Thomas’ expression turned feral. “That’s why I like you Brand, you’re clever. You think we’re going to get them tomorrow?”
“I just listen. We’ll let the boss know what this Ashimar told us, but I doubt we’ll do anything tomorrow. They have some ceremonial thing at the church of Sarath tomorrow and I doubt anyone wants to cause trouble tomorrow. Maybe the day after.
Except that the five newcomers left the day following the ceremony, so neither Brand or Thomas got to confront the newcomers with more favorable odds. Just as well really, they probably would have died if they had.
Just a quick step back in time to relate a scene that will soon become important.
----------
Some two months ago the arrival of five newcomers to the City of Corlean was remarked upon by a varied number of persons. It would be untruthful to say that there was nothing special about these newcomers. One was determined to be a member of the Sundering Sword and another was a new convert to the faith of Sarath. Still another was a rogue wizard of half-elven descent and another was a bard of some moderate skill, also with elven blood. The fifth? Well, not every member of a group has to be special. The fifth newcomer was a simple courier from places further south, special only in that she traveled with those of some note.
The new newcomer’s stay in town was brief and mostly uneventful. There were rumors of trouble at a ceremony honoring the returning Paladin, but it was nothing mre than a simple pick-pocket being caught by the vigilant priests.
For those with ears though there were other stories about these newcomers; stories of adventuring and heroism. More interesting though were stories of wealth. They had discovered the secrets of New Mire and had been well rewarded by the local landlord. They had found the lair of bandits and had recovered many months of ill-gotten gangs. Perhaps most interesting, they had found the lair of orcs and had recovered more wealth then even a lesser noble could expect to see in a year.
Still and all these were stories, but some stories have a kernel of truth at their center so eyes were sent to watch and ears set to listen. These eyes saw a suit of full-plate commissioned and enchanted. They further saw a shirt of mithril chain links purchased and paid for with gems and coin and a rapier enchanted by the smiths of the Church of Sarath.
The ears heard their share too and what they heard was that the stories only spoke truth. Bandits had risen in the county of Haranshire and now lay dead and defeated. The inn in Thurmaster had been paid for in coin by the paladin of Sarath. The ears decided that it was quite possible the stories were understated.
So it came to pass that towards the last evening of the newcomer’s stay in Corlean, they found themselves wending their way home through the darkened streets to the inn called the Scabbard.”
“I think we’re being followed.” Warned Ashimar quietly. “Two men behind us.”
Kellron’s hand drifted to his sword, still peace-tied but he was certain he could break it if he had to. “Is that why you’ve been weaving and stumbling?”
“Yeah. You guys go ahead. I’ll duck into the alley when round the corner and have a talk.”
“I thought you were drunk. You sure?”
Ashimar’s grin was hidden in the dark. “Mostly.”
--------
Thomas and Brand quickened their pace and rounded the corner, unwilling to let their marks get too far ahead. One of the marks had obviously enjoyed himself too much at the club they had left and had slowed the other four down; now they were trying to hurry back to their nest.
Thomas had briefly thought of waylaying the group, thinking that drink had probably slowed all the marks down, but he wasn’t willing to risk it. Besides, that wasn’t the job tonight. The two men came to a sudden stop, seeing the change almost immediately. The drunk one was gone.
A shadow stepped out of the alcove behind them.
“Ahem.”
The two men froze momentarily and they let their hands spread out from their sides, showing that they were unarmed. Well, apparently unarmed. They still had their knives hidden up their loose sleeves.
It was Brand who spoke first. “Can we help you, Sir?” He asked politely. Brand was the soft-spoken, quiet one of the pair and he was the spokesperson when called upon.
Ashimar smiled. “I’d like to know why you were following us.”
Brand cocked his head quizzically. “I’m not sure that I understand, Sir.”
“You’ve been following us. I know it. You know it. My four friends who have stopped up ahead and are now coming back this way know this. I want to know why.” Ashimar saw the uncertainty in both men’s eyes. He was willing to bet that they didn’t normally have to talk to their choosen prey. He tried a different tact. “It’s all right. I was in the business myself in Blasingdale. I know it’s not personal. Why don’t we have a drink and talk it over?”
Brand looked at Thomas who could only shrug. Brand looked Ashimar squarely in the eye and answered. “I guess there isn’t much harm in that. There’s a tavern just up the street. Not everyone though.”
Ashimar held his hand up to signal his friends. “Not everyone at the table. They’ll still be in the room.”
“Of course.”
--------------------
The tavern known as The Singing Harpy was quieter then the name implied. Located near the central square, the tavern catered mostly to off duty soldiers and watchmen. Neither Brand nor Thomas was entirely comfortable in the setting, but the job wasn’t about their comfort.
Ashimar, Brand, and Thomas were sitting down at a table. Sitting nearby at another table was Kellron, Kestral, Jallarzi, and Panther. The only person who looked happy was Ashimar. The barmaid laid the drinks down at Ashimar’s table, and Ashimar put down a gold lion. “Keep it.” He told the woman. She smiled at him reply as she bustled away.
“So. Why were you following us?” Asked Ashimar again.
Brand looked a little sheepish. “You know how it is.” He said, looking the room over again before turning his attention back to the former rogue. “We heard the stories and were interested.”
“What sort of stories?”
“You know. The money?” Brand chuckled, trying to allay the man’s suspicion. “Rumor says you dropped a thousand gold lions your first night in town and spent another five thousand over the last week. People say that you folks recovered over fifty thousand lions worth of coin and jewels.” The man shrugged. “People talk like that and other people get interested. You know what I mean?”
Ashimar chuckled back. “You have to be careful of stories.” He warned. “They’re not always true.”
Both Thomas and Brand managed another set of sheepish looks.
“Sure we found some coin, but people exaggerate.” Continued Ashimar. “But nothing like that. We only picked up ten thousand lions at the most and spent five hundred the first night.”
The former rouge missed it, but at the next table Kestral choked and then began coughing, almost spilling the rest of her drink across the table. Kellron graciously assisted her in recovering.
Ashimar contined on, oblivious to the minor scene at the next table. “So you see, there’s no reason to be following us anymore. We’ve spent a good portion of it and what’s left isn’t worth the trouble.”
Brand looked at Ashimar for a long moment, sizing up the man’s statements. “I see. Well, that puts it in a different light. I’m glad you decided to be civilized about all of this.”
Ashimar smiled expansively. “Not a problem. There’s no reason we can’t be reasonable, after all it’s not personal.” He drained his cup and signaled the barmaid. “Let’s have another couple rounds and you can go your way and let people know that the rumors are just rumors, and me and my friends can leave the city in peace and not hurt anyone. Deal?”
Brand saluted Ashimar. “Deal.”
--------
Later that night.
“So that’s it?” Asked Thomas to Brand as they made their way southward from the central square.
“That's it for tonight.”
“Pity they didn’t have any money.”
“I doubt it matters, and that’s not what he said anyway.”
Thomas looked at Brand quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“He said they spent most of it. Not all of it. I bet they still have some coin to go around.”
“So? Probably not enough to be worth it.”
“Not if it was coin. But they spent the coin on something. A lot of something’s I hear tell. The boss said that one was going to be wearing a shirt of mithril real soon. It doesn’t matter if they still have a lot of coin or not, they still have easily sellable stuff.”
Thomas’ expression turned feral. “That’s why I like you Brand, you’re clever. You think we’re going to get them tomorrow?”
“I just listen. We’ll let the boss know what this Ashimar told us, but I doubt we’ll do anything tomorrow. They have some ceremonial thing at the church of Sarath tomorrow and I doubt anyone wants to cause trouble tomorrow. Maybe the day after.
Except that the five newcomers left the day following the ceremony, so neither Brand or Thomas got to confront the newcomers with more favorable odds. Just as well really, they probably would have died if they had.
rangerjohn
Explorer
Great descriptions, with the hat of disguise. 
Keep up the good work.
Keep up the good work.rangerjohn, thanks for the encouragement.
I've been travelling a lot over the last six weeks and between that and not liking the first two drafts of anything I've written, I missed your post. It got to the point that I was avoiding the SH forum just so not to remind myself that I wasn't writing. :\
I think I started to find my stride again.
Here's a short update, but I have the next couple mostly written, hopefully to be posted by Saturday.
---------------
A Description of Corlean
The Empire of Shtara is not the first body to hold the lands west of the Laren Mountains; merely the latest. Approximately two-thousand years ago a conflict now called the Takeel Wars raged across the entire continent and nearby waters, shattering the kingdoms and empires of the time.
One kingdom, that scholars now called Dor-Heiravan (though it may have been an empire – the records are unclear) controlled the High Pass during the time of the Wars. Then, as now, the High Pass was the only easy access to the lands north of the High Mountains. Unlike now, the High Pass was wider then and not very defensible. When tensions rose and the sparks that started the Wars flared, te Dor-Heiravan’s used their engineering knowledge and magical arts to make their end of the High Pass a virtual gatehouse.
Under the onslaught of wizards and priests, the mountains on either side of pass’ mouth were ‘encouraged’ to grow higher and closer together. The few alternate routes that existed at the time were shattered and lost. Within only a handful of years the south end of the High Pass was bracketed by walls of raw granite which soared hundreds of feet into the air.
The lands just south of the pass for miles around was leveled and raised, using both labor and magic, creating a flat landscape suitable for some farming to support the full time garrison that was stationed there. Using clever tricks, water from the yearly snow melts was diverted to underground aquifers that eventually passed around the garrison; neatly negating the possibility of flash floods during the spring.
When the soldiers of the Shtaran Empire surveyed the High Pass hundreds of years later, they found that the High Pass was easily defensible and recommended the building of a keep upon the nearby ruins, and the creation of a wall to control access through the Pass and thus stop the occasional raiding from the northlands. The surveyor’s report claimed that Sarath himself must have created the High Pass, it was so suited to defense.
Now, Corlean lies squarely in the mouth of the High Pass, her eastern and western flanks protected by the tall granite walls of the mountains themselves. The North Wall of Corlean is the shortest in length, only about two thirds of a mile long, but rising some forty feet over the ground with only a single gate allowing passage. The South Wall is longer than the northern one, actually protruding out past the towering walls of the Pass. Ostensibly the South Wall was constructed to protect the merchants and farmers from the creatures in those early days of imperial expansion. An argument has been made that the soldiers just disliked not having walls all around them. Regardless of the reasoning, the South Wall runs well over a mile in length, but is only twenty feet high and three gates allowing entrance.
Carved into the granite walls flanking the city are two large shelfs which overlook the city. The western shelf is walled and houses the Duke’s residence and keep. From here he administers the city and his lands. The eastern shelf, also walled, houses the Emporer’s soldiers, both those that are stationed in Corlean and those that travel through the city. A single broad path leads up to each of these shelves, but both paths are easily defended by the keep each one leads to.
In the center of Corlean is ‘The Square’, a large parade field paved with well worn flagstones. The expanse of The Square is broken only by three large and magnificent, white marble fountains. The Square was designed to allow all the troops in the city to congregate; a function it still performs to this day. Standing on the west side of The Square is the city’s cathedral to Latina. The Chuch-Keep of Sarath, called the Sword House, stands opposite the cathedral on the east side.
The empire is not given to large populations in her cities, and despite being a trade town, Corlean has only around twenty-five thousand permanent residents; though this figure climbs significantly during the summer and fall seasons. In general, the landed knights, earls, counts, barons, and the wealthiest of merchants live on the west side of the city, within low-walled residences, between the Duke’s Road and the cathedral. Most merchants reside on the east side, while traditionally soldiers and city guardsmen live to the north. Caravaners are most prevalent near the North and South gates. The poorest areas of Corlean are in the northeast and southeast, well away from the low walls of the nobles.
Unlike the cities to the south, Corlean still holds proudly to its military past, catering to the soldiers and tradesmen that streams through it. While gambling and prostitution are frowned upon by the upper class, both are legal and regulated in order to protect the soldiers. Even the carrying of weapons is accepted though they must be peace-tied if not currently on active duty or a member of the watch. Meanwhile, most of the silver and iron used in the northern duchies make their way through Corlean.
I've been travelling a lot over the last six weeks and between that and not liking the first two drafts of anything I've written, I missed your post. It got to the point that I was avoiding the SH forum just so not to remind myself that I wasn't writing. :\
I think I started to find my stride again.
Here's a short update, but I have the next couple mostly written, hopefully to be posted by Saturday.
---------------
A Description of Corlean
The Empire of Shtara is not the first body to hold the lands west of the Laren Mountains; merely the latest. Approximately two-thousand years ago a conflict now called the Takeel Wars raged across the entire continent and nearby waters, shattering the kingdoms and empires of the time.
One kingdom, that scholars now called Dor-Heiravan (though it may have been an empire – the records are unclear) controlled the High Pass during the time of the Wars. Then, as now, the High Pass was the only easy access to the lands north of the High Mountains. Unlike now, the High Pass was wider then and not very defensible. When tensions rose and the sparks that started the Wars flared, te Dor-Heiravan’s used their engineering knowledge and magical arts to make their end of the High Pass a virtual gatehouse.
Under the onslaught of wizards and priests, the mountains on either side of pass’ mouth were ‘encouraged’ to grow higher and closer together. The few alternate routes that existed at the time were shattered and lost. Within only a handful of years the south end of the High Pass was bracketed by walls of raw granite which soared hundreds of feet into the air.
The lands just south of the pass for miles around was leveled and raised, using both labor and magic, creating a flat landscape suitable for some farming to support the full time garrison that was stationed there. Using clever tricks, water from the yearly snow melts was diverted to underground aquifers that eventually passed around the garrison; neatly negating the possibility of flash floods during the spring.
When the soldiers of the Shtaran Empire surveyed the High Pass hundreds of years later, they found that the High Pass was easily defensible and recommended the building of a keep upon the nearby ruins, and the creation of a wall to control access through the Pass and thus stop the occasional raiding from the northlands. The surveyor’s report claimed that Sarath himself must have created the High Pass, it was so suited to defense.
Now, Corlean lies squarely in the mouth of the High Pass, her eastern and western flanks protected by the tall granite walls of the mountains themselves. The North Wall of Corlean is the shortest in length, only about two thirds of a mile long, but rising some forty feet over the ground with only a single gate allowing passage. The South Wall is longer than the northern one, actually protruding out past the towering walls of the Pass. Ostensibly the South Wall was constructed to protect the merchants and farmers from the creatures in those early days of imperial expansion. An argument has been made that the soldiers just disliked not having walls all around them. Regardless of the reasoning, the South Wall runs well over a mile in length, but is only twenty feet high and three gates allowing entrance.
Carved into the granite walls flanking the city are two large shelfs which overlook the city. The western shelf is walled and houses the Duke’s residence and keep. From here he administers the city and his lands. The eastern shelf, also walled, houses the Emporer’s soldiers, both those that are stationed in Corlean and those that travel through the city. A single broad path leads up to each of these shelves, but both paths are easily defended by the keep each one leads to.
In the center of Corlean is ‘The Square’, a large parade field paved with well worn flagstones. The expanse of The Square is broken only by three large and magnificent, white marble fountains. The Square was designed to allow all the troops in the city to congregate; a function it still performs to this day. Standing on the west side of The Square is the city’s cathedral to Latina. The Chuch-Keep of Sarath, called the Sword House, stands opposite the cathedral on the east side.
The empire is not given to large populations in her cities, and despite being a trade town, Corlean has only around twenty-five thousand permanent residents; though this figure climbs significantly during the summer and fall seasons. In general, the landed knights, earls, counts, barons, and the wealthiest of merchants live on the west side of the city, within low-walled residences, between the Duke’s Road and the cathedral. Most merchants reside on the east side, while traditionally soldiers and city guardsmen live to the north. Caravaners are most prevalent near the North and South gates. The poorest areas of Corlean are in the northeast and southeast, well away from the low walls of the nobles.
Unlike the cities to the south, Corlean still holds proudly to its military past, catering to the soldiers and tradesmen that streams through it. While gambling and prostitution are frowned upon by the upper class, both are legal and regulated in order to protect the soldiers. Even the carrying of weapons is accepted though they must be peace-tied if not currently on active duty or a member of the watch. Meanwhile, most of the silver and iron used in the northern duchies make their way through Corlean.
Last edited:
Sword House
!!TANG!!
Ashimar’s slim rapier met the swing of the heavier Imperial longsword and sang out with a clear note as metal clashed with metal. Seemingly impossibly, the slighter rapier held. Ashimar grinned and settled back into a guard position as he allowed his opponent to comprehend that the rapier would not break by sheer might alone.
Both the young priest and his opponent were in the outdoor sparring yard, within the church-keep of Sarath; which was usually called Sword House by those who lived there. It being late fall, it was a cool morning, but both men were sweating with the practice sword-play.
Ashimar’s current partner was a young lieutenant, apparently also recently arrived to Corlean, though the young lieutenant had traveled southwards through the pass to reach Corlean. Like Ashimar, the lieutenant had a fair amount of combat experience, though his was gained from patrolling the borderlands up north.
“I hated trolls the most.” Spoke Ashimar, answering the lieutenant’s previous questions about the caverns deep below Haranshire. He stopped talking as the lieutenant swung again, starting an exchange of blows that made both of their blades sing.
The lieutenant was well trained and had maintained his focus and discipline through years of training and preparing with the church. In many ways he was the complete opposite of Ashimar whose own focus had shifted considerably over the last six months. Oddly, both men, who were both near strangers to Corlean, got along very well.
“How so?” Asked the lieutenant. “What’s so bad about trolls?” The lieutenant was strong and gave Ashimar the honor of not pulling his blows.
“The bloody stories are true. The things…uh…just…hmmf…won’t die.” Ashimar punctuated his sentence with strong blows of his own. His opponent met each one of them without qualm.
“You’re still here.” Pointed out the soldier. “So you must have killed them.”
Ashimar grunted as his opponent swung hard. Normally a rapier wielder who wanted to keep his blade intact would avoid the direct blows of a heavier weapon; Ashimar had overcome his original trainging however. Six months of training with Kellron though had given Ashimar his own unique style based on both power and speed.
“We didn’t beat them with swords.” Started the priest, who suddenly lunged forward scoring a touch on the lieutenant’s armor, just under the armpit.
The lieutenant grimaced, but saluted gracefully, presenting his sword up parallel to his breastbone, the guard just six inches below his eyes. He then stepped back and signaled that with a wave of his arms that they should take a break. “How then?”
“Fire. It’s the only way. Kellron and I could only slow the damn things down. They’re not that bright, but trolls are strong! A solid punch from one of them can crumple armor.” Ashimar shook his head at the memories as he and his new friend walked over to the water bucket.
“Still, if you’re good enough, you can drop one. You can cave in its’ chest, gouge the eyes, and chop the head off. The thing is that doesn’t stop them. The troll just keeps coming. Their flesh writhes as it heals and the thing will just continue to crawl after you, its’ wounds healing with every foot it travels.” He dipped the ladel into the bucket and drank deep. “Pierce the heart, drop it, and dig out the entrails and all you’ve done is buy yourself a minute, and only that much time. Trolls are like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
He took a deep breath to ward away the memory. “If you ever fight one get as much fire as you can; it’s the only thing that will stop the gooey mess you created out of its’ body from standing back up.”
Ashimar smiled. “Fortunately we had Jallarzi. She was able to bring down a rian of fire every time.” His smile faltered for a moment. “But don’t get overconfident, magic only goes so far. If you find yourself separated, regroup immediately, even if you think you can handle yourself. Your comrades might not be so fortunate, and Sarath help you if a group of trolls punch through your line."
!!TANG!!
Ashimar’s slim rapier met the swing of the heavier Imperial longsword and sang out with a clear note as metal clashed with metal. Seemingly impossibly, the slighter rapier held. Ashimar grinned and settled back into a guard position as he allowed his opponent to comprehend that the rapier would not break by sheer might alone.
Both the young priest and his opponent were in the outdoor sparring yard, within the church-keep of Sarath; which was usually called Sword House by those who lived there. It being late fall, it was a cool morning, but both men were sweating with the practice sword-play.
Ashimar’s current partner was a young lieutenant, apparently also recently arrived to Corlean, though the young lieutenant had traveled southwards through the pass to reach Corlean. Like Ashimar, the lieutenant had a fair amount of combat experience, though his was gained from patrolling the borderlands up north.
“I hated trolls the most.” Spoke Ashimar, answering the lieutenant’s previous questions about the caverns deep below Haranshire. He stopped talking as the lieutenant swung again, starting an exchange of blows that made both of their blades sing.
The lieutenant was well trained and had maintained his focus and discipline through years of training and preparing with the church. In many ways he was the complete opposite of Ashimar whose own focus had shifted considerably over the last six months. Oddly, both men, who were both near strangers to Corlean, got along very well.
“How so?” Asked the lieutenant. “What’s so bad about trolls?” The lieutenant was strong and gave Ashimar the honor of not pulling his blows.
“The bloody stories are true. The things…uh…just…hmmf…won’t die.” Ashimar punctuated his sentence with strong blows of his own. His opponent met each one of them without qualm.
“You’re still here.” Pointed out the soldier. “So you must have killed them.”
Ashimar grunted as his opponent swung hard. Normally a rapier wielder who wanted to keep his blade intact would avoid the direct blows of a heavier weapon; Ashimar had overcome his original trainging however. Six months of training with Kellron though had given Ashimar his own unique style based on both power and speed.
“We didn’t beat them with swords.” Started the priest, who suddenly lunged forward scoring a touch on the lieutenant’s armor, just under the armpit.
The lieutenant grimaced, but saluted gracefully, presenting his sword up parallel to his breastbone, the guard just six inches below his eyes. He then stepped back and signaled that with a wave of his arms that they should take a break. “How then?”
“Fire. It’s the only way. Kellron and I could only slow the damn things down. They’re not that bright, but trolls are strong! A solid punch from one of them can crumple armor.” Ashimar shook his head at the memories as he and his new friend walked over to the water bucket.
“Still, if you’re good enough, you can drop one. You can cave in its’ chest, gouge the eyes, and chop the head off. The thing is that doesn’t stop them. The troll just keeps coming. Their flesh writhes as it heals and the thing will just continue to crawl after you, its’ wounds healing with every foot it travels.” He dipped the ladel into the bucket and drank deep. “Pierce the heart, drop it, and dig out the entrails and all you’ve done is buy yourself a minute, and only that much time. Trolls are like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
He took a deep breath to ward away the memory. “If you ever fight one get as much fire as you can; it’s the only thing that will stop the gooey mess you created out of its’ body from standing back up.”
Ashimar smiled. “Fortunately we had Jallarzi. She was able to bring down a rian of fire every time.” His smile faltered for a moment. “But don’t get overconfident, magic only goes so far. If you find yourself separated, regroup immediately, even if you think you can handle yourself. Your comrades might not be so fortunate, and Sarath help you if a group of trolls punch through your line."
The Library
The Corlean Library sits quietly three streets south-east of The Square; separated from the surrounding buildings by several well groomed lawns.
The Corlean Library consists of three large buildings. The central building is three stories and made of brick and wood; formerly a mansion for a well-to-do merchant family it stands with a stately, quiet elegance. Only full members of the Library are allowed past the well appointed waiting rooms without an escort.
The central building is flanked by two long, narrow brick buildings that stand two stories high. The North Building serves as a sort of dormitory for students and visiting teachers. While the South Building contains classrooms, a lab, and two smaller libraries devoted to history, philosophy, and nature. The Corelean Library enjoys the distinction of providing the finiest non-magical education a person can receive outside of actually joining the Library as a wizard*. The masters of the Library provide this service for the dual purpose of generating income and allowing apprentices and journey-folk to integrate with the scions of the wealthiest families in the Empire.
Master Wymeah is an older, disciplined woman; much closer to the year of her first century than the year of actual birth; though her magic makes the reverse appear to be true. Long a member of the Library, Master Wymeah enjoys both teaching and the northern clime of Corlean. One of the three permanent on-site master’s assigned to the Corlean Library, she is second only to Master Asuras in seniority and had appointed herself the de-facto headmistress of the students; a situation Master Asuras appreciated as it allowed him the opportunity to deal with the nobles and the wealthy of the city and gave him time to devote himself to his specialty of divination.
Dressed in the traditional white teach robes of the Library and her silver hair swept back into a tight bun, Master Wymeah looked primly austere. She bore her (visible) age lines with an uncaring grace as if to say they were unimportant.
Today, Master Wymeah was in the Corlean Library Spell Room #1, a set of rooms actually which lay beaneath a mountain range far to the southeast of Corlean. She and the Corlean Library’s newest apprentice were seated comfortably in the back of the well-kept main chamber, refreshments laid out between them. The lace tablecloth and fine crystal glasses made for an interesting contrast to the blackened and melted rock wall some one hundred feet away.
The prim master looked over her apprentice with a gaze that gave away very little, though Jallarzi could tell that Master Wymeah’s eyesight was currently magically enhanced; but that was all she could from the master’s gray eyes. The frustration in Master Wymeah’s voice was all too evident, though Jallarzi could not tell the source of it.
“Please correct me if I am wrong.” Spoke the woman after Jallarzi had finished her tale. The master had interrupted Jallarzi’s tale of the past months with only a few interruptions. “In the past two months since you were last here, you and your companions engaged a tribe of orcs, escorted their women and children to safety, and befriended these rock-folk who have indicated that they have information on the creatures directing the orcs and bandits in kidnapping those with mage-talent?” The elder wizard piercing eyes demanded an answer from the apprentice.
Clearly uncomfortable, the apprentice nodded. “Yes ma’am, that is correct.” Jallarzi allowed herself a brief moment to wonder when the interview was going to be over so she could ask for access to the advance spell research libraries.
Master Wymeah didn’t sniff at the answer; quite. “I see. That was a good job if I may say so. Allies are always important so long as you think you can trust them.”
Jallarzi nodded automatically. “I believe we can, Master Wymeah.”
“Good. These same rock-folk believe that creatures called illithid are responsible, but before they would tell you more, they wanted you and your friends to prove that you were capable of safely using this information. To this end they assigned you the task of cleaning out not one, but two large nests of trolls.”
Again Jallarzi nodded, not understanding where this was going. Master Wymeah’s tone was nearly accusatory.
“If I recall correctly, the last time you left her, your most advanced spells consisted of turning ivisible and conjuring acid; small amounts of acid. Perfectly acceptable for a senior apprentice though I admit it was surprising for such a new apprentice to the Library. Tauster taught you well.”
Jallarzi shifted uncomfortably, wishing Master Wymeah would get to the point. Briefly she considered starting a conversation with Sarah, but she sensed that wasn’t exactly a good idea.
Sadly, the point of the conversation seemd long in coming. “If I counted correctly, the nest total was approximately fifty trolls? My. I dare say that as far as tests go, The Library has never administered one that seemed so immediately final, though a few apprentices would disagree. Yet still you succeeded. You and your friends should be congratulated.”
Master Wymeah’s eyes glittered in the enchanted light of the Spell Chamber and they caught Jallarzi’s violet colored eyes squarely. “Not only did you defeat these trolls, you also increased your studies in the meantime, extrapolating how to evoke fireballs and a hastening spell. Further you created your own wand of fireballs.
The questioning was going somewhere, Jallarzi just couldn’t see where. Kestral was much better at this stuff.
“May I see the wand?”
Jallarzi shrugged and pulled out the slim rod of black rock from the holster at her belt, handing it over respectfully. The elder wizard examined the wand carefully, noting both the workmanship and composition.
“These rock-folk do exquisite work.” Noted Master Wymeah. “And your work exceptional. For an apprentice.” She looked up and handed the wand back to Jallarzi.
“Tell me, at what point were you going to apply for journeyhood? You do realize that it is technically against all rules for an apprentice to use battle-magic unsupervised, much less journey-level battle-magics?
Jallarzi froze, though only for a moment, finally seeing where this was going. She recovered quickly if not eloquently. “I was intending to apply, I was.” Explained the half-elf. “But we’ve been really busy. We only came back to town to restock and prepare for exploring the passages the svirfneblin have promised to show us.”
Master Wymeah raised a perfect eyebrow. She had heard all the excuses before, though to be perfectly fair Jallarzi at least had a real reason.
“Very well; but let’s assign you a goal to work towards. The journey test isn’t that difficult, merely a new spell or a magical device such as a wand or a protective cloak – donated to The Library. You’ve already shown the ability so I doubt that this is a particularly onerous task.”
“Well…” Started Jallarzi doubtfully, wondering how she was going to turn this down.
“Master Wymeah suppressed a sigh. “You do realize that journey-hood brings several advantages, do you not? Including access to some of the restricted libraries as well as escorted access through the mage-gates.”
The last caught Jallarzi’s attention. “I am doing an important job for the Library.” She pointed out. “I would think I should have access to the restricted librarires if it would help the mission.”
Master Wymeah could infallibly tell when a student was trying to avoid the well thought out rules of the Library. There was only one proper response to the attempts, so the master raised her eyebrow again and gave Jallarzi her best withering look. “You are doing an important job.” Acknowledged the master. “However we are bending the rules already allowing an apprentice to use battle-magics unsupervised. I think it is allowable in this instance because to-date those same magics have not been performed on Imperial lands – technically that I am aware of. I am further bending the rules by allowing you do put this test off for a period of time at your own request and despite your bvious capabilities.
Access to the restricted libraries is based upon not only magical ability, but also the presumed learned wisdom on when to use that same magic – or not.” The wizard paused long enough to see Jallarzi gather herself for a renewed verbal offensive. Just before Jallarzi could speak, Master Wymeah continued her lecture. “That said, If you don’t have the time to test now, I hardly believe you have the time for serious research that these same libraries require.”
Jallarzi’s shoulders slumpled, recognizing the impending ‘no’.
Seeing that Jallarzi had recognized her authority, Wymeah continued. “However, and I do this on my own authority, I believe I can offer supervised access to the libraries, provided you agree to the following. First, you refrain from using battle-magic while in Imperial lands excepting clear self-defense. Second, you provide an explanation and plan of what you intend to research within those libraries. Thirdly, you promise to complete your journey-test within the next year.”
Jallarzi wrinkled her nose. She didn’t like the restrictions, though she didn’t have any particular objection to the conditions themselves. “Very well.” She agreed.
Master Wymeah gave a smart, satisfied nod. “Good. Now tell me what these rock-folk told you of these illithid. They sound similar to something that happened elsewhere this summer…”
---------
*The bardic colleges of Keria would dispute that the Library’s non-magical education is the finest, but will readily admit that it is certainly the most expensive.
edit: minor spelling errors.
The Corlean Library sits quietly three streets south-east of The Square; separated from the surrounding buildings by several well groomed lawns.
The Corlean Library consists of three large buildings. The central building is three stories and made of brick and wood; formerly a mansion for a well-to-do merchant family it stands with a stately, quiet elegance. Only full members of the Library are allowed past the well appointed waiting rooms without an escort.
The central building is flanked by two long, narrow brick buildings that stand two stories high. The North Building serves as a sort of dormitory for students and visiting teachers. While the South Building contains classrooms, a lab, and two smaller libraries devoted to history, philosophy, and nature. The Corelean Library enjoys the distinction of providing the finiest non-magical education a person can receive outside of actually joining the Library as a wizard*. The masters of the Library provide this service for the dual purpose of generating income and allowing apprentices and journey-folk to integrate with the scions of the wealthiest families in the Empire.
Master Wymeah is an older, disciplined woman; much closer to the year of her first century than the year of actual birth; though her magic makes the reverse appear to be true. Long a member of the Library, Master Wymeah enjoys both teaching and the northern clime of Corlean. One of the three permanent on-site master’s assigned to the Corlean Library, she is second only to Master Asuras in seniority and had appointed herself the de-facto headmistress of the students; a situation Master Asuras appreciated as it allowed him the opportunity to deal with the nobles and the wealthy of the city and gave him time to devote himself to his specialty of divination.
Dressed in the traditional white teach robes of the Library and her silver hair swept back into a tight bun, Master Wymeah looked primly austere. She bore her (visible) age lines with an uncaring grace as if to say they were unimportant.
Today, Master Wymeah was in the Corlean Library Spell Room #1, a set of rooms actually which lay beaneath a mountain range far to the southeast of Corlean. She and the Corlean Library’s newest apprentice were seated comfortably in the back of the well-kept main chamber, refreshments laid out between them. The lace tablecloth and fine crystal glasses made for an interesting contrast to the blackened and melted rock wall some one hundred feet away.
The prim master looked over her apprentice with a gaze that gave away very little, though Jallarzi could tell that Master Wymeah’s eyesight was currently magically enhanced; but that was all she could from the master’s gray eyes. The frustration in Master Wymeah’s voice was all too evident, though Jallarzi could not tell the source of it.
“Please correct me if I am wrong.” Spoke the woman after Jallarzi had finished her tale. The master had interrupted Jallarzi’s tale of the past months with only a few interruptions. “In the past two months since you were last here, you and your companions engaged a tribe of orcs, escorted their women and children to safety, and befriended these rock-folk who have indicated that they have information on the creatures directing the orcs and bandits in kidnapping those with mage-talent?” The elder wizard piercing eyes demanded an answer from the apprentice.
Clearly uncomfortable, the apprentice nodded. “Yes ma’am, that is correct.” Jallarzi allowed herself a brief moment to wonder when the interview was going to be over so she could ask for access to the advance spell research libraries.
Master Wymeah didn’t sniff at the answer; quite. “I see. That was a good job if I may say so. Allies are always important so long as you think you can trust them.”
Jallarzi nodded automatically. “I believe we can, Master Wymeah.”
“Good. These same rock-folk believe that creatures called illithid are responsible, but before they would tell you more, they wanted you and your friends to prove that you were capable of safely using this information. To this end they assigned you the task of cleaning out not one, but two large nests of trolls.”
Again Jallarzi nodded, not understanding where this was going. Master Wymeah’s tone was nearly accusatory.
“If I recall correctly, the last time you left her, your most advanced spells consisted of turning ivisible and conjuring acid; small amounts of acid. Perfectly acceptable for a senior apprentice though I admit it was surprising for such a new apprentice to the Library. Tauster taught you well.”
Jallarzi shifted uncomfortably, wishing Master Wymeah would get to the point. Briefly she considered starting a conversation with Sarah, but she sensed that wasn’t exactly a good idea.
Sadly, the point of the conversation seemd long in coming. “If I counted correctly, the nest total was approximately fifty trolls? My. I dare say that as far as tests go, The Library has never administered one that seemed so immediately final, though a few apprentices would disagree. Yet still you succeeded. You and your friends should be congratulated.”
Master Wymeah’s eyes glittered in the enchanted light of the Spell Chamber and they caught Jallarzi’s violet colored eyes squarely. “Not only did you defeat these trolls, you also increased your studies in the meantime, extrapolating how to evoke fireballs and a hastening spell. Further you created your own wand of fireballs.
The questioning was going somewhere, Jallarzi just couldn’t see where. Kestral was much better at this stuff.
“May I see the wand?”
Jallarzi shrugged and pulled out the slim rod of black rock from the holster at her belt, handing it over respectfully. The elder wizard examined the wand carefully, noting both the workmanship and composition.
“These rock-folk do exquisite work.” Noted Master Wymeah. “And your work exceptional. For an apprentice.” She looked up and handed the wand back to Jallarzi.
“Tell me, at what point were you going to apply for journeyhood? You do realize that it is technically against all rules for an apprentice to use battle-magic unsupervised, much less journey-level battle-magics?
Jallarzi froze, though only for a moment, finally seeing where this was going. She recovered quickly if not eloquently. “I was intending to apply, I was.” Explained the half-elf. “But we’ve been really busy. We only came back to town to restock and prepare for exploring the passages the svirfneblin have promised to show us.”
Master Wymeah raised a perfect eyebrow. She had heard all the excuses before, though to be perfectly fair Jallarzi at least had a real reason.
“Very well; but let’s assign you a goal to work towards. The journey test isn’t that difficult, merely a new spell or a magical device such as a wand or a protective cloak – donated to The Library. You’ve already shown the ability so I doubt that this is a particularly onerous task.”
“Well…” Started Jallarzi doubtfully, wondering how she was going to turn this down.
“Master Wymeah suppressed a sigh. “You do realize that journey-hood brings several advantages, do you not? Including access to some of the restricted libraries as well as escorted access through the mage-gates.”
The last caught Jallarzi’s attention. “I am doing an important job for the Library.” She pointed out. “I would think I should have access to the restricted librarires if it would help the mission.”
Master Wymeah could infallibly tell when a student was trying to avoid the well thought out rules of the Library. There was only one proper response to the attempts, so the master raised her eyebrow again and gave Jallarzi her best withering look. “You are doing an important job.” Acknowledged the master. “However we are bending the rules already allowing an apprentice to use battle-magics unsupervised. I think it is allowable in this instance because to-date those same magics have not been performed on Imperial lands – technically that I am aware of. I am further bending the rules by allowing you do put this test off for a period of time at your own request and despite your bvious capabilities.
Access to the restricted libraries is based upon not only magical ability, but also the presumed learned wisdom on when to use that same magic – or not.” The wizard paused long enough to see Jallarzi gather herself for a renewed verbal offensive. Just before Jallarzi could speak, Master Wymeah continued her lecture. “That said, If you don’t have the time to test now, I hardly believe you have the time for serious research that these same libraries require.”
Jallarzi’s shoulders slumpled, recognizing the impending ‘no’.
Seeing that Jallarzi had recognized her authority, Wymeah continued. “However, and I do this on my own authority, I believe I can offer supervised access to the libraries, provided you agree to the following. First, you refrain from using battle-magic while in Imperial lands excepting clear self-defense. Second, you provide an explanation and plan of what you intend to research within those libraries. Thirdly, you promise to complete your journey-test within the next year.”
Jallarzi wrinkled her nose. She didn’t like the restrictions, though she didn’t have any particular objection to the conditions themselves. “Very well.” She agreed.
Master Wymeah gave a smart, satisfied nod. “Good. Now tell me what these rock-folk told you of these illithid. They sound similar to something that happened elsewhere this summer…”
---------
*The bardic colleges of Keria would dispute that the Library’s non-magical education is the finest, but will readily admit that it is certainly the most expensive.
edit: minor spelling errors.
Last edited:
rangerjohn
Explorer
Sounds like sour grapes grapes. Don't you know the sweeter the vine , the more expensive the vintage.Seravin said:
Or something like that.At Sword House Again
The forges of the Sword House ran hot the first week Kellron arrived back in Corlean. The paladin watched the priest-smith pray over his sword as they reworked the metal of the blade with both hammer and faith. The forge room was hot and smoky and the air was acrid with the smells of oil, soot, and sweat. Still, the feverant and loud prayers of the smiths cut through the oppressive heat and flickering light of the flames to raise the spirits of everyone in the room.
Any other blade would have been ruined by this treatment, but this was an enchanted fire-blade and the forge flames were required to keep the sword ignited whilst the priests re-worked the temper of the magics in the metal. When they finished, Kellron’s fire-blade would ignite automatically when drawn by a member of the faith; which would have made the last two months easier.
Kellron’s mind drifted away with the rhythmic chanting, wondering how Kestral and Jallarzi were doing. Both women had promised to look around and see if it might be possible to purchase a pair of enchanted boots that would increase his speed; similar to what Ashimar had been wearing, but more permanent. Kellron expected that the pair of boots would have to be commissioned, but with their newfound wealth that wasn’t a problem.
Kellron allowed himself a self-satisfied grin, despite the revelation of the bandit attack against his new inn and the implication that it had been paid for, things were now going well. No permanent harm had been done to the inn and Joe, his bouncer, was now fully recovered thanks to Colonel Megara’s faith.
Speaking of which… Thought Kellron.
Nodding farewell to the priest-smiths, though they paid him no heed, Kellron left the forge for his appointment with Colonel Megara. It was finally time that he settled other matters he had left too long unattended.
-----
“Enter.” Called out Colonel Megara at the knock on the door. When Kellron entered she smiled warmly and stood to greet him, though strictly speaking protocol didn’t require either. She returned Kellron’s crisp salute with one of her own and motioned for him to sit.
“So is all going well, Captain Kellron?” She asked
“Quite well.” Affirmed Kellron. “It’s been good to have some time off.”
“I’m sure. Ashimar’s stories have been making the full rounds. The older officer’s smile disappeared, and for a moment she looked her full forty-odd years. “Your previous report interested General Vorun greatly. He asked that I pass along his respects; unfortunately he is currently meeting with the Duke right now. He wants you to know that we will provide any aid that we can though.”
Kellron smiled. “Thank you very much. The church has been more than helpful and I appreciate it. However, I asked for this meeting not for my current mission, but for myself.”
“Oh?” Colonel Megara looked interested; she hadn’t expected a personal request from the paladin.
Kellron paused, collecting his thoughts making sure he really wanted to go forward.; he was about to ask for a lot of responsibility.
Steeling himself, he stated his intent straight out. “I’d like to re-man Broken Spire Keep as a base of operations and a forward defense point. Any support the church could give would be appreciated.”
Colonel Megara pursed her lips in thought. This was a surprise, but she was an organizer by nature and a good judge of character; her lineage all but demanded it. “How many men?”
“As many as you can spare, but I think fifteen to twenty would be good a good start. The keep is small and isolated and needs work to make it fully liveable. Given the bandit attacks, it is my hope that this guard contingent will help protect the County of Haranshire while my friends and I explore the tunnels below.”
“I see. So you’d like some guards and some skilled craftsmen I take it?”
“I think so; it would certainly improve the men’s morale to have a more liveable place.”
Megara nodded, agreeing with the paladin. “You realize the problem with your request is that the church does not own Broken Spire. The keep and lands belong to Count Parlfray.”
“I know, but I was hoping the church could help me persuade the good Count to sell or lease the lands. The keep has been abandonded for decades now, so he’s obviously not using it.”
Colonel Megara mulled it over. There were still questions to ask, but General Vorun, Scion of the Victorious Dragons and head of her order, had apparently already anticipated something like this. “There are still details to work out, but General Vorun gave me presumptive leave to assign as many men as I deemed to necessary to you if you required it.” The colonel smiled. “He told me you would almost certainly ask for the, though I suspect he thought you would be taking them with you.”
Kellron shook his head in negation. “I thought of it, but the surface is what is really vulnerable. Haranshire could use more protection, especially if there are people striking out at our friends while we’re away.”
“Very well. We’ll start with two squads; we can go over the rosters later. What I can not do is make Count Parlfray give over the Keep to you, no matter the cause.
“Can you give me a letter of recommendation?”
“That I can do.” Affirmed the colonel as she stood. The paladin quickly followed suit and took the colonel’s outstretched hand. “Captain Kellron, would you care to adjourn with me and my aide and you can go over our rosters while I write up a quick letter to the Count.”
“I would like that very much, Colonel.”
With that the two officers left the colonel’s office.
The forges of the Sword House ran hot the first week Kellron arrived back in Corlean. The paladin watched the priest-smith pray over his sword as they reworked the metal of the blade with both hammer and faith. The forge room was hot and smoky and the air was acrid with the smells of oil, soot, and sweat. Still, the feverant and loud prayers of the smiths cut through the oppressive heat and flickering light of the flames to raise the spirits of everyone in the room.
Any other blade would have been ruined by this treatment, but this was an enchanted fire-blade and the forge flames were required to keep the sword ignited whilst the priests re-worked the temper of the magics in the metal. When they finished, Kellron’s fire-blade would ignite automatically when drawn by a member of the faith; which would have made the last two months easier.
Kellron’s mind drifted away with the rhythmic chanting, wondering how Kestral and Jallarzi were doing. Both women had promised to look around and see if it might be possible to purchase a pair of enchanted boots that would increase his speed; similar to what Ashimar had been wearing, but more permanent. Kellron expected that the pair of boots would have to be commissioned, but with their newfound wealth that wasn’t a problem.
Kellron allowed himself a self-satisfied grin, despite the revelation of the bandit attack against his new inn and the implication that it had been paid for, things were now going well. No permanent harm had been done to the inn and Joe, his bouncer, was now fully recovered thanks to Colonel Megara’s faith.
Speaking of which… Thought Kellron.
Nodding farewell to the priest-smiths, though they paid him no heed, Kellron left the forge for his appointment with Colonel Megara. It was finally time that he settled other matters he had left too long unattended.
-----
“Enter.” Called out Colonel Megara at the knock on the door. When Kellron entered she smiled warmly and stood to greet him, though strictly speaking protocol didn’t require either. She returned Kellron’s crisp salute with one of her own and motioned for him to sit.
“So is all going well, Captain Kellron?” She asked
“Quite well.” Affirmed Kellron. “It’s been good to have some time off.”
“I’m sure. Ashimar’s stories have been making the full rounds. The older officer’s smile disappeared, and for a moment she looked her full forty-odd years. “Your previous report interested General Vorun greatly. He asked that I pass along his respects; unfortunately he is currently meeting with the Duke right now. He wants you to know that we will provide any aid that we can though.”
Kellron smiled. “Thank you very much. The church has been more than helpful and I appreciate it. However, I asked for this meeting not for my current mission, but for myself.”
“Oh?” Colonel Megara looked interested; she hadn’t expected a personal request from the paladin.
Kellron paused, collecting his thoughts making sure he really wanted to go forward.; he was about to ask for a lot of responsibility.
Steeling himself, he stated his intent straight out. “I’d like to re-man Broken Spire Keep as a base of operations and a forward defense point. Any support the church could give would be appreciated.”
Colonel Megara pursed her lips in thought. This was a surprise, but she was an organizer by nature and a good judge of character; her lineage all but demanded it. “How many men?”
“As many as you can spare, but I think fifteen to twenty would be good a good start. The keep is small and isolated and needs work to make it fully liveable. Given the bandit attacks, it is my hope that this guard contingent will help protect the County of Haranshire while my friends and I explore the tunnels below.”
“I see. So you’d like some guards and some skilled craftsmen I take it?”
“I think so; it would certainly improve the men’s morale to have a more liveable place.”
Megara nodded, agreeing with the paladin. “You realize the problem with your request is that the church does not own Broken Spire. The keep and lands belong to Count Parlfray.”
“I know, but I was hoping the church could help me persuade the good Count to sell or lease the lands. The keep has been abandonded for decades now, so he’s obviously not using it.”
Colonel Megara mulled it over. There were still questions to ask, but General Vorun, Scion of the Victorious Dragons and head of her order, had apparently already anticipated something like this. “There are still details to work out, but General Vorun gave me presumptive leave to assign as many men as I deemed to necessary to you if you required it.” The colonel smiled. “He told me you would almost certainly ask for the, though I suspect he thought you would be taking them with you.”
Kellron shook his head in negation. “I thought of it, but the surface is what is really vulnerable. Haranshire could use more protection, especially if there are people striking out at our friends while we’re away.”
“Very well. We’ll start with two squads; we can go over the rosters later. What I can not do is make Count Parlfray give over the Keep to you, no matter the cause.
“Can you give me a letter of recommendation?”
“That I can do.” Affirmed the colonel as she stood. The paladin quickly followed suit and took the colonel’s outstretched hand. “Captain Kellron, would you care to adjourn with me and my aide and you can go over our rosters while I write up a quick letter to the Count.”
“I would like that very much, Colonel.”
With that the two officers left the colonel’s office.
Kestral in Corlean - Part 1
For her part, the first seven days back were anything but a vacation for Kestral Thendry. There were so many things to do and barely enough time to do it all. Still, the young woman set about her tasks with a determination that effort that would have made Colonel Megara proud.
First on her list was to get someone to do those tasks she was unable to do herself. In this case, convince someone to further enchant the magical hut in their possession so that it was usable more than a few times a seven-day. In the back of her mind, Kestral was aware that the hut would not be forgiving if she and her companions were to ignore the alarm that signaled the magics were weakening and ready to collapse back to the hand-sized model. Fortunately her companions were also well aware of the potential dangers and quickly agreed to assign part of their treasures to further enchant their portable domicile.
Jallarzi’s knowledge proved instrumental in figuring out who to approach and what to ask for; and on their first morning back Kestral accompanied the half-elven apprentice to the Corlean Library. Within a few minutes, with Jallarzi’s introduction, Kestral managed to arrange a short interview with one of the senior journey-mages.
----------
“Thank you for seeing me, Journey-mage Maius. I understand this is short notice and that your time is valuable.” As always, Kestral spoke with an open, friendly manner and a trustworthy sincerity that immediately drew people to her. Kestral’s natural ability to speak to people in a manner they were most comfortable with was working extra duty.
Journey-mage Maius, a young man still not quite thirty summers, smiled at the young woman seated across from him in the small sitting room that the Library provided for business related interviews. “No thanks are necessary, Kerress Thendry. It just so happens that the Library does understand the value of commerce; wizards have to eat to you know.” The last was said with a small chuckle.
Kestral smiled at the small joke, letting the journey-mage know that he was putting her at ease. “Still, I thank you.”
“Then you are most welcome. As you said though, my time is valuable. What can I do for you? An ever-warm cloak perhaps, with winter coming on, or perhaps a few simple potions?” Journey-mage Maius steeled himself for her answer. The Library received the oddest requests sometimes, some of which were illegal. He couldn’t imagine this obviously well-bred woman asking for anything like that, but you never knew.
Kestral shook her head. “No sir. I think Jallarzi could have provided for those things. I’m afraid our need is for something a bit more complex and requires a wizard of greater ability, no offense to Jallarzi of course.”
“Of course. I don’t know Jallarzi personally, but she is after all only an apprentice. I am finding myself ever more curious of what you desire though.”
“Forgive my roundabout manner, Sir. I am a little intimidated by what I am about to ask for, both by the cost and the fear that you may have some reason to say no. Well you let me ask you some questions first?”
Intrigued, Journey-mage Maius raised a questioning eyebrow and nodded, wondering where this was going to go.
“Are you familiar with what my companions and I are currently doing?”
“I can’t say that I am. I do know that Master Wymeah seemed eager to see Apprentice Jallarzi today; she even cleared her appointments this morning to see her.
Kestral cocked her head in thought. “I suppose there is no harm in telling you. I certainly haven’t been told that this is a secret, but you must understand that discretion is required.”
Maius leaned closer, the thought of learning a possible secret overriding any thought of not-learning that same secret. “Of course. Go on.”
Kestral knew she had him, though she suppressed any smile of victory. Instead she took a small breath, as if to steel herself. “Thank you. Not long ago an apprentice wizard was kidnapped from a small village south of here, called Milbourne. My friends and I took it upon ourselves to see what happened to her.” She shook her head in sympathy. “It took a few months, but we eventually discovered she had been kidnapped by bandits who had recently setup nearby.
We defeated the bandits with the help of an Imperial Scout and the son of the local Count. Unfortunately we couldn’t save the apprentice. She apparently had been moved elsewhere. It seems that the bandits had been selling some of their captives to orcs deep below the ground.”
Kestral let that sink in, nodding to confirm Maius’ unasked question. “Yes. Orcs. There was an entire tribe of them just below the Thornwood. It was a fight, but we managed to assault the tribe and free one of their captives, a good dwarf. Again we were too late to save the apprentice.”
Journey-mage Maius was completely caught up in Kestral’s tale. He had heard the rumors of disappearing wizards of course; but then, wizards were always disappearing. He was well aware of how fractious and independent he and his peers really were, despite the united front they gave everyone else. “She died?” He asked, a little sadly.
“No. She had been moved on. The caves under the Thornwood extend for many miles in many directions. We found…evidence that Jelenneth had been moved deeper into the world. We don’t know why, but we are dedicated to finding out.”
Kestral’s tone changed from that of a clinical description to a more impassioned tone. “This is why we need your help. Jallarzi is keeping the Library updated on what we find and she’s been a great help; but the task we need performed requires a high degree of skill and I am told that is you.”
“But, I don’t even know what you want.” Exclaimed Journey-mage Maius. He found himself wanting to help, but he didn’t know how.
“Oh.” Kestral brought her hand to her mouth. “How foolish of me. I’m sorry. We have a magical device that needs further enchantments and I have some further requests that would greatly aid our cause.” Kestral reached into her backpack now laying next to her chair on the floor. She carefully pulled out the enchanted hut and laid it upon the table that was between the both of them.
“We recovered this from the bandits. It creates a small cottage approximately three times per seven-day, and then for less than half a day. It’s been very useful though and my friends and I thought it would be best to see if we can have it enchanted so that we can use it whenever we want.”
The wizard stood up and walked around the table to examine the ramshackled little model in more detail. Looking at Kestral for permission first, he gently picked up the magical item and looked it over, peering into the windows and pecking at the walls and roof.
“Amazing. It’s completely ugly. Does it look like this when fully realized?” Maius wasn’t really interested in the form, he was speaking to cover himself while he thought.
“No. It’s quite cozy actually.”
“I see. Hmm. I will have to examine it before I can even tell you if it is really possible to modify the current enchantments. I believe it is, but I don’t know for sure.”
“But you will look into this?”
“Oh yes. You do realize this will be expensive though? There’s the examinations, some of which use expensive material components, and I may have to research a new spell or two. I really won’t know before mid-day tomorrow, assuming you wish me to continue.”
“How much?” Asked Kestral. “I really think a permanently available shelter to retreat to will aid us in our mission, so we’ll pay what we have to, if we can.”
The wizard gave Kestral an appraising look as he set the model hut back onto the table; he liked the young woman and if this was truly a mission for the Library, then some sort of discount was in order. “I’ll have a better idea tomorrow. Just to look at the task and research to see if I can really do it will cost 450 gold lions. I’ll be honest though, modifying the enchantments could cost a king’s ransom. If I had to do this from scratch, I’d say about fifty thousand lions, give or take. Most of the work has been done though, so maybe half that. If you decide and are able to go ahead with this, then I’ll roll the detection fees into the enchantment costs.”
Kestral wrung her hands, like the cost worried her. Inwardly she was thinking that Jallarzi had accurately predicted the costs, the half-elf would be pleased. “I suppose. Shall I meet you here tomorrow then and you can let me know?”
“Yes, say just before dinner? That will give me plenty of time to examine the device and research what I think I’ll need.” Maius stopped then. “I almost forgot though. You mentioned that you had some personal requests?”
Kestral smiled brightly and stood up to be on a more equal footing with Maius, though she was still a good ten inches shorter then him. “Yes. Thank you for remembering. I mentioned that we were working with the Imperial Scout? I have been studying a few things from him which have come in useful. I can track passably well and move and hide within the forest with some skill.” Here Kestral looked at the floor as if embarrassed. “But I’m no Imperial Scout. Kupier had mentioned that the Empire does provide enchanted elven cloaks and boots though that aid in hiding. I was hoping the Library could sell me both. The scout we were working with has other things to do now and I’d like to cover for my lack.”
“Oh. I see.” Maius shook his head. “I’m afraid I cannot help you. The Library does not craft those items. I have heard of them though, and I do believe that there is some elven village from up north that provides them for the local Imperial Scouts. If for some reason you don’t want to deal with the elves, the Library might be able to come up with something, but I suspect it would be more expensive.”
“Do you know which village I would have to go to?”
Maius smiled. “I believe you can find the elves locally. There are a few traders in town as well as few that choose to live here. Before you leave I can ask around and see if anyone has a name for me to give. Is there anything else?”
“Just one other thing. A small thing I hope.” Kestral wasn’t sure if it was small or not, she hadn’t even discussed this with Jallarzi. “Some of bandits were cultists of Tresh and were using their spells to identify and capture wizards. I’ve gathered from Jallarzi that detecting magic is a relatively trivial spell for a mage…”
“That is true…’
“Well, we’ve been fortunate in our travels and have recovered many magical items. If I am to successfully sneak up on whoever is really behind these kidnappings, I think it would be best if any magical auras on my items were suppressed. Is that a possible thing to do?”
Maius pursed his lips in thought, as his eyes stared out into space. “There’s a spell of moderate difficulty that suppresses all auras, but it’s devilishly expensive.”
“That sounds nice, but it sounds like all our gold will go to the hut. Is there anything that would just suppress the magic? Make it undetectable?”
“Just how many magical items do you have?” Maius looked at Kestral. “May I?”
Kestral sighed. “You may.”
A quick magical pass and two arcane words later and Maius found himself stepping back and blinking. “Avia’s Eyes! What is that on your hand?”
“A gift from the Water King.” Explained Kestral. “I am geased to find his son somewhere.”
“…” Maius didn’t know what to say.
“That is why I want to find something to cloak the magic I wear. If anyone is even casually looking for a spell, I’m good and caught and I’ll be useless as a scout. Can you help me?”
Maius’ heart went out to the woman. She was undoubtedly correct and she was on a mission for the Libray (though he reminded himself to check with Master Wymeah). “Well, if it’s just a simple cloak against a Detect Magic, there may be something I can do. An amulet perhaps. That would be best, and I do know a spell that masks magical auras for a single object…”
Maius shook his head. “Let me see what I can do.” He smiled. “I’m almost afraid to ask is there anything else?”
“No. I hope that wasn’t too much.”
“Good. Let’s get that name for you and then I’ll see you with a cost on the hut and the amulet tomorrow evening.”
“Thank you very much Journey-mage Maius. You’ve been most helpful.”
For her part, the first seven days back were anything but a vacation for Kestral Thendry. There were so many things to do and barely enough time to do it all. Still, the young woman set about her tasks with a determination that effort that would have made Colonel Megara proud.
First on her list was to get someone to do those tasks she was unable to do herself. In this case, convince someone to further enchant the magical hut in their possession so that it was usable more than a few times a seven-day. In the back of her mind, Kestral was aware that the hut would not be forgiving if she and her companions were to ignore the alarm that signaled the magics were weakening and ready to collapse back to the hand-sized model. Fortunately her companions were also well aware of the potential dangers and quickly agreed to assign part of their treasures to further enchant their portable domicile.
Jallarzi’s knowledge proved instrumental in figuring out who to approach and what to ask for; and on their first morning back Kestral accompanied the half-elven apprentice to the Corlean Library. Within a few minutes, with Jallarzi’s introduction, Kestral managed to arrange a short interview with one of the senior journey-mages.
----------
“Thank you for seeing me, Journey-mage Maius. I understand this is short notice and that your time is valuable.” As always, Kestral spoke with an open, friendly manner and a trustworthy sincerity that immediately drew people to her. Kestral’s natural ability to speak to people in a manner they were most comfortable with was working extra duty.
Journey-mage Maius, a young man still not quite thirty summers, smiled at the young woman seated across from him in the small sitting room that the Library provided for business related interviews. “No thanks are necessary, Kerress Thendry. It just so happens that the Library does understand the value of commerce; wizards have to eat to you know.” The last was said with a small chuckle.
Kestral smiled at the small joke, letting the journey-mage know that he was putting her at ease. “Still, I thank you.”
“Then you are most welcome. As you said though, my time is valuable. What can I do for you? An ever-warm cloak perhaps, with winter coming on, or perhaps a few simple potions?” Journey-mage Maius steeled himself for her answer. The Library received the oddest requests sometimes, some of which were illegal. He couldn’t imagine this obviously well-bred woman asking for anything like that, but you never knew.
Kestral shook her head. “No sir. I think Jallarzi could have provided for those things. I’m afraid our need is for something a bit more complex and requires a wizard of greater ability, no offense to Jallarzi of course.”
“Of course. I don’t know Jallarzi personally, but she is after all only an apprentice. I am finding myself ever more curious of what you desire though.”
“Forgive my roundabout manner, Sir. I am a little intimidated by what I am about to ask for, both by the cost and the fear that you may have some reason to say no. Well you let me ask you some questions first?”
Intrigued, Journey-mage Maius raised a questioning eyebrow and nodded, wondering where this was going to go.
“Are you familiar with what my companions and I are currently doing?”
“I can’t say that I am. I do know that Master Wymeah seemed eager to see Apprentice Jallarzi today; she even cleared her appointments this morning to see her.
Kestral cocked her head in thought. “I suppose there is no harm in telling you. I certainly haven’t been told that this is a secret, but you must understand that discretion is required.”
Maius leaned closer, the thought of learning a possible secret overriding any thought of not-learning that same secret. “Of course. Go on.”
Kestral knew she had him, though she suppressed any smile of victory. Instead she took a small breath, as if to steel herself. “Thank you. Not long ago an apprentice wizard was kidnapped from a small village south of here, called Milbourne. My friends and I took it upon ourselves to see what happened to her.” She shook her head in sympathy. “It took a few months, but we eventually discovered she had been kidnapped by bandits who had recently setup nearby.
We defeated the bandits with the help of an Imperial Scout and the son of the local Count. Unfortunately we couldn’t save the apprentice. She apparently had been moved elsewhere. It seems that the bandits had been selling some of their captives to orcs deep below the ground.”
Kestral let that sink in, nodding to confirm Maius’ unasked question. “Yes. Orcs. There was an entire tribe of them just below the Thornwood. It was a fight, but we managed to assault the tribe and free one of their captives, a good dwarf. Again we were too late to save the apprentice.”
Journey-mage Maius was completely caught up in Kestral’s tale. He had heard the rumors of disappearing wizards of course; but then, wizards were always disappearing. He was well aware of how fractious and independent he and his peers really were, despite the united front they gave everyone else. “She died?” He asked, a little sadly.
“No. She had been moved on. The caves under the Thornwood extend for many miles in many directions. We found…evidence that Jelenneth had been moved deeper into the world. We don’t know why, but we are dedicated to finding out.”
Kestral’s tone changed from that of a clinical description to a more impassioned tone. “This is why we need your help. Jallarzi is keeping the Library updated on what we find and she’s been a great help; but the task we need performed requires a high degree of skill and I am told that is you.”
“But, I don’t even know what you want.” Exclaimed Journey-mage Maius. He found himself wanting to help, but he didn’t know how.
“Oh.” Kestral brought her hand to her mouth. “How foolish of me. I’m sorry. We have a magical device that needs further enchantments and I have some further requests that would greatly aid our cause.” Kestral reached into her backpack now laying next to her chair on the floor. She carefully pulled out the enchanted hut and laid it upon the table that was between the both of them.
“We recovered this from the bandits. It creates a small cottage approximately three times per seven-day, and then for less than half a day. It’s been very useful though and my friends and I thought it would be best to see if we can have it enchanted so that we can use it whenever we want.”
The wizard stood up and walked around the table to examine the ramshackled little model in more detail. Looking at Kestral for permission first, he gently picked up the magical item and looked it over, peering into the windows and pecking at the walls and roof.
“Amazing. It’s completely ugly. Does it look like this when fully realized?” Maius wasn’t really interested in the form, he was speaking to cover himself while he thought.
“No. It’s quite cozy actually.”
“I see. Hmm. I will have to examine it before I can even tell you if it is really possible to modify the current enchantments. I believe it is, but I don’t know for sure.”
“But you will look into this?”
“Oh yes. You do realize this will be expensive though? There’s the examinations, some of which use expensive material components, and I may have to research a new spell or two. I really won’t know before mid-day tomorrow, assuming you wish me to continue.”
“How much?” Asked Kestral. “I really think a permanently available shelter to retreat to will aid us in our mission, so we’ll pay what we have to, if we can.”
The wizard gave Kestral an appraising look as he set the model hut back onto the table; he liked the young woman and if this was truly a mission for the Library, then some sort of discount was in order. “I’ll have a better idea tomorrow. Just to look at the task and research to see if I can really do it will cost 450 gold lions. I’ll be honest though, modifying the enchantments could cost a king’s ransom. If I had to do this from scratch, I’d say about fifty thousand lions, give or take. Most of the work has been done though, so maybe half that. If you decide and are able to go ahead with this, then I’ll roll the detection fees into the enchantment costs.”
Kestral wrung her hands, like the cost worried her. Inwardly she was thinking that Jallarzi had accurately predicted the costs, the half-elf would be pleased. “I suppose. Shall I meet you here tomorrow then and you can let me know?”
“Yes, say just before dinner? That will give me plenty of time to examine the device and research what I think I’ll need.” Maius stopped then. “I almost forgot though. You mentioned that you had some personal requests?”
Kestral smiled brightly and stood up to be on a more equal footing with Maius, though she was still a good ten inches shorter then him. “Yes. Thank you for remembering. I mentioned that we were working with the Imperial Scout? I have been studying a few things from him which have come in useful. I can track passably well and move and hide within the forest with some skill.” Here Kestral looked at the floor as if embarrassed. “But I’m no Imperial Scout. Kupier had mentioned that the Empire does provide enchanted elven cloaks and boots though that aid in hiding. I was hoping the Library could sell me both. The scout we were working with has other things to do now and I’d like to cover for my lack.”
“Oh. I see.” Maius shook his head. “I’m afraid I cannot help you. The Library does not craft those items. I have heard of them though, and I do believe that there is some elven village from up north that provides them for the local Imperial Scouts. If for some reason you don’t want to deal with the elves, the Library might be able to come up with something, but I suspect it would be more expensive.”
“Do you know which village I would have to go to?”
Maius smiled. “I believe you can find the elves locally. There are a few traders in town as well as few that choose to live here. Before you leave I can ask around and see if anyone has a name for me to give. Is there anything else?”
“Just one other thing. A small thing I hope.” Kestral wasn’t sure if it was small or not, she hadn’t even discussed this with Jallarzi. “Some of bandits were cultists of Tresh and were using their spells to identify and capture wizards. I’ve gathered from Jallarzi that detecting magic is a relatively trivial spell for a mage…”
“That is true…’
“Well, we’ve been fortunate in our travels and have recovered many magical items. If I am to successfully sneak up on whoever is really behind these kidnappings, I think it would be best if any magical auras on my items were suppressed. Is that a possible thing to do?”
Maius pursed his lips in thought, as his eyes stared out into space. “There’s a spell of moderate difficulty that suppresses all auras, but it’s devilishly expensive.”
“That sounds nice, but it sounds like all our gold will go to the hut. Is there anything that would just suppress the magic? Make it undetectable?”
“Just how many magical items do you have?” Maius looked at Kestral. “May I?”
Kestral sighed. “You may.”
A quick magical pass and two arcane words later and Maius found himself stepping back and blinking. “Avia’s Eyes! What is that on your hand?”
“A gift from the Water King.” Explained Kestral. “I am geased to find his son somewhere.”
“…” Maius didn’t know what to say.
“That is why I want to find something to cloak the magic I wear. If anyone is even casually looking for a spell, I’m good and caught and I’ll be useless as a scout. Can you help me?”
Maius’ heart went out to the woman. She was undoubtedly correct and she was on a mission for the Libray (though he reminded himself to check with Master Wymeah). “Well, if it’s just a simple cloak against a Detect Magic, there may be something I can do. An amulet perhaps. That would be best, and I do know a spell that masks magical auras for a single object…”
Maius shook his head. “Let me see what I can do.” He smiled. “I’m almost afraid to ask is there anything else?”
“No. I hope that wasn’t too much.”
“Good. Let’s get that name for you and then I’ll see you with a cost on the hut and the amulet tomorrow evening.”
“Thank you very much Journey-mage Maius. You’ve been most helpful.”
Last edited:
Similar Threads
