Servants of the Swift Sword (A Kalamar campaign)
- Thread starter Wicht
- Start date
Elder-Basilisk
First Post
I'm looking forward to Naomi's recovery and the next post on this story then.
Thanks for letting us all enjoy your game Wicht.
Thanks for letting us all enjoy your game Wicht.
Wicht
Hero
Chapter 12 – Dragon Island
The dreams were bad. Lying in the dark room, lit only by the soft glow of the ruby, streaming slightly out from the bedroll in which it was wrapped, each of the four companions slept fitfully. Their dreams were filled with images of the ruby and the voice offering them any wish they desired, even friendship with the dragons of the island, if they would but smash the ruby.
Tilliana felt the dawn coming at last and roused her companions. After a brief moment spent meditating, she prayed over the pale and clammy half-elf. As she prayed, some color returned to the poisoned cheeks and some small movement to the limbs. Twice more Tilliana prayed for the half-elf to recover and at the end of her prayers, Niccolo could move more easily, though he was still sluggish and his muscles ached. The poison was not completely out of his system.
As they discussed their plans for the day, the general consensus was to leave the ruby where it was. Alairic, who had wanted to leave it alone to begin with reasoned, “The one we killed yesterday, it seems like he was just waiting for us to take it, maybe the mark over the door kept him from coming in here, but did not stop us. So he needed us to move it out of the room. Therefore, if we keep it in here it will be safe.”
“I think we killed the real villain when we killed him,” said Tilliana. The others seemed to agree. They worked out the date in their heads and realized that they had left the villagers waiting in the ship for three days. It was time to head back and go home.
They traipsed out of the room, leaving the ruby on the table tied in the bedroll.
As they approached the stairs it dawned on them that they had forgotten about the pirates they had left tied up.
“Oops,” said Niccolo, “That would be swell, if we just left them here to starve to death.”
The right thing to do seemed to them to take the men with them. They passed the hall leading to the stairs and went back into the room where they had left the bodies tied. The smell of blood was the first thing to assail them. The sight of the ravaged bodies was next. Something had killed the men and partially eaten them. Niccolo, swallowing his distaste, bent to examine them. The marks seemed to have been made by some large bird.
“They were probably killed by that thing you slaughtered,” said Niccolo to Alairic.
“There’s a lot of probablies here,” said Alairic nervously, “we need to be cautious.” He scanned the room for evil, but could sense none.
“You know what,” said Tilliana, “The body wasn’t there, where Alairic had killed him, the body was gone.”
With a start, the others realized she was right. When they had entered the trap hallway, leaving the room with the ruby, the body had not been where they had let it lay. Slowly, not sure what to expect, they made their way to the stairs. There, just at the door, was the feathered body of the monster that Alairic had slain. It’s head was missing. Someone or something had dragged the body to the door and then had removed the head. A trail of blood led through the door.
“This gets better and better,” said Niccolo, visibly spooked.
“Maybe we should examine the rooms down here,” said Alairic.
The others agreed to this and they went back checking each room. But there was no life in any of them, only the bodies of the pirates.
Returning to the door to the stairs, Niccolo bent to examine the headless corpse. Something had torn or ripped the head off he decided and relayed his opinion to the others.
“We should burn the body,” said Alairic.
“Why,” asked Niccolo, “It will just attract scavengers.”
“I think it would keep them away,” said Alairic defensively, and then another thought struck him, “Hey, you remember all those other heads we found, on altars and things.”
The others did remember, how could they have forgotten such sights.
“The altar upstairs,” said Niccolo.
They moved swiftly up the strange stairs to the next door. There was blood, they noticed, on the stairs. Opening the door out of the stairwell they looked out. Nothing moved in the hallway beyond. Moving stealthily into the hallway they looked left and right. Nothing was there, though they could hear the faint sounds of snoring.
“Kobolds,” said Alairic, trying to guess the source of the slumbering sounds.
“Left or Right?”
“Right,” said Alairic leading the way to the door at the end of the hallway. He opened it. It led into the room in which they had killed the kobold priest. It was currently empty.
“Other way,” said Niccolo and once more they followed Alairic who led by the light of their last remaining torch. The door at the opposite end of the long hall did indeed lead into the large altar room. They made their way past the stone benches and looked at the altar. It was just as they had left it. There was no head.
It was then that Alairic noticed the gleam of gold to their right. Up in the alcove above the floor, where the winged lizards had been, there was now gold. Alairic could just see it. He drew his companions attention to it. After a very brief discussion, Kinshag was scaling the wall, seeking out handholds and working his way up to the alcove. Shortly he was within.
“Gold,” he called back, “There are thousands of gold pieces up here, and gems as well.”
“See if they will fit in here,” said Alairic and tossed up the bag he had just acquired, the one that seemed to hold so much. Kinshag swiftly swept it all into the bag. It did indeed fit.
“I knew it,” said Alairic with a grin, “a bag of holding.” He had heard tales of such bags.
“There are reptilian tracks down here,” said Niccolo examining the floor, “Large reptilian tracks.” Images of the great dragon filled their minds but they soon realized the tracks were too small for that.
“The daughter,” was Niccolo’s conclusion, “but I don’t want to meet up with her again either.”
Filled suddenly with a sense of urgency, they swept out of the temple, emerging at last into the bright sun of morning. They saw no-one and nothing around and so moved quickly southwards through the woods towards the cliff and the ledge. It was not actually that far and they made good time. As they reached the cliff, they heard a scream in the distance. It was a high wail coming from the direction in which they had just come. Alairic’s and Tilliana’s first impulse was to go back and see who needed help, but as a second scream sounded in the distance, they could hear the anger in it and realized it was no one in need of help. As swiftly as they could, they lowered the lift to the ground and raced into the woods, southwards towards the beach.
The sight that met their eyes when they finally reached the beach some minutes later was not the one they expected. The ship was no longer in the water. It had been dragged a hundred yards onto shore, up to the line of the trees. The masts had been snapped and there was a ragged hole in the hull. As they stared dumbfounded at the beached ship, eyes began looking out fearfully from within the ship.
“Its them,” said a voice and soon a crowd of villagers was exiting the bowels of the ship to greet the heroes.
“What happened,” said Niccolo.
“It was the dragon,” said Tiolo, moving through the crowd, “He came the night after you left and pulled the ship ashore. He told us that he would keep his word even if others could not keep theirs and took two of us. We could do nothing to stop him. And he has done the same thing each evening, he has taken six total since you left.”
“How are we going to get home!” wailed a woman.
The companions wondered the same thing. Hope seemed to have fled.
“Well, lets go fight the dragon,” said Tilliana stoutly, “the young one.”
“What!” said Alairic.
“Maybe we can get her to get her father to free us,” said Tilliana, “or allow us to hitch a ride.” Alairic shook his head doubtfully.
“Maybe we could get Niccolo to swim and pull the ship in his teeth,” said Alairic. Niccolo shot the paladin a look. Tilliana observed Niccolo’s slowed condition and decided that maybe they weren’t quite up to fighting the small dragon.
“Maybe we have to make a wish after all,” observed Niccolo.
Tilliana’s brain was racing however and as she recalled her dream from a few nights before she scrambled through her belongings until she found the white feather she had taken off of the dead pirate captain. The words of the song from the dream came back to her.
“When you stand upon the sand,
with a feather in your hand,
say oldama…”
Holding the feather in her hand she stood uncertainly, looking at the beach, wondering where she should stand. Should she stand by the destroyed boat or by the water’s edge. She stood there for several minutes, unmindful of the others trying to calm the villagers. Alairic was speaking to them in small groups and individually, trying to encourage them. Finally he noticed Tilliana. Going to where she was standing Alairic saw her holding the white feather.
“Need help?” he asked.
Swiftly Tilliana explained her dream to Alairic and as she did so, she made up her mind. Striding towards the water, she stopped just at the edge. Then, holding the feather aloft, she strode purposefully into the ocean water and said, “Oldama.”
The feather flew from her hand, and landing on the water, transformed in a blinding flash of white light into a white boat, shaped like a swan. Within the boat, there appeared to be enough room for all.
“That’s pretty,” said Niccolo.
“It’s a miracle,” whispered some of the villagers in awe.
“Praise Naemae!” said Tilliana, turning to the small crowd, “Now get in the boat.”
Each one clambered into the boat, Tilliana last of all. As she got in, she was aware, though she did not know how, that the boat would move at her direction. Getting her bearing she tried to decide which way to go.
“Which way is southwest?” Tilliana asked Niccolo. Niccolo took his bearing and pointed.
“That’s the way we go then,” said Tilliana. And soon the swan boat was gliding through the ocean water.
As they left the island behind, they caught a glimpse of a small green draconic figure gliding over the tree tops, but soon the island was behind them, dwindling in the distance.
The dreams were bad. Lying in the dark room, lit only by the soft glow of the ruby, streaming slightly out from the bedroll in which it was wrapped, each of the four companions slept fitfully. Their dreams were filled with images of the ruby and the voice offering them any wish they desired, even friendship with the dragons of the island, if they would but smash the ruby.
Tilliana felt the dawn coming at last and roused her companions. After a brief moment spent meditating, she prayed over the pale and clammy half-elf. As she prayed, some color returned to the poisoned cheeks and some small movement to the limbs. Twice more Tilliana prayed for the half-elf to recover and at the end of her prayers, Niccolo could move more easily, though he was still sluggish and his muscles ached. The poison was not completely out of his system.
As they discussed their plans for the day, the general consensus was to leave the ruby where it was. Alairic, who had wanted to leave it alone to begin with reasoned, “The one we killed yesterday, it seems like he was just waiting for us to take it, maybe the mark over the door kept him from coming in here, but did not stop us. So he needed us to move it out of the room. Therefore, if we keep it in here it will be safe.”
“I think we killed the real villain when we killed him,” said Tilliana. The others seemed to agree. They worked out the date in their heads and realized that they had left the villagers waiting in the ship for three days. It was time to head back and go home.
They traipsed out of the room, leaving the ruby on the table tied in the bedroll.
As they approached the stairs it dawned on them that they had forgotten about the pirates they had left tied up.
“Oops,” said Niccolo, “That would be swell, if we just left them here to starve to death.”
The right thing to do seemed to them to take the men with them. They passed the hall leading to the stairs and went back into the room where they had left the bodies tied. The smell of blood was the first thing to assail them. The sight of the ravaged bodies was next. Something had killed the men and partially eaten them. Niccolo, swallowing his distaste, bent to examine them. The marks seemed to have been made by some large bird.
“They were probably killed by that thing you slaughtered,” said Niccolo to Alairic.
“There’s a lot of probablies here,” said Alairic nervously, “we need to be cautious.” He scanned the room for evil, but could sense none.
“You know what,” said Tilliana, “The body wasn’t there, where Alairic had killed him, the body was gone.”
With a start, the others realized she was right. When they had entered the trap hallway, leaving the room with the ruby, the body had not been where they had let it lay. Slowly, not sure what to expect, they made their way to the stairs. There, just at the door, was the feathered body of the monster that Alairic had slain. It’s head was missing. Someone or something had dragged the body to the door and then had removed the head. A trail of blood led through the door.
“This gets better and better,” said Niccolo, visibly spooked.
“Maybe we should examine the rooms down here,” said Alairic.
The others agreed to this and they went back checking each room. But there was no life in any of them, only the bodies of the pirates.
Returning to the door to the stairs, Niccolo bent to examine the headless corpse. Something had torn or ripped the head off he decided and relayed his opinion to the others.
“We should burn the body,” said Alairic.
“Why,” asked Niccolo, “It will just attract scavengers.”
“I think it would keep them away,” said Alairic defensively, and then another thought struck him, “Hey, you remember all those other heads we found, on altars and things.”
The others did remember, how could they have forgotten such sights.
“The altar upstairs,” said Niccolo.
They moved swiftly up the strange stairs to the next door. There was blood, they noticed, on the stairs. Opening the door out of the stairwell they looked out. Nothing moved in the hallway beyond. Moving stealthily into the hallway they looked left and right. Nothing was there, though they could hear the faint sounds of snoring.
“Kobolds,” said Alairic, trying to guess the source of the slumbering sounds.
“Left or Right?”
“Right,” said Alairic leading the way to the door at the end of the hallway. He opened it. It led into the room in which they had killed the kobold priest. It was currently empty.
“Other way,” said Niccolo and once more they followed Alairic who led by the light of their last remaining torch. The door at the opposite end of the long hall did indeed lead into the large altar room. They made their way past the stone benches and looked at the altar. It was just as they had left it. There was no head.
It was then that Alairic noticed the gleam of gold to their right. Up in the alcove above the floor, where the winged lizards had been, there was now gold. Alairic could just see it. He drew his companions attention to it. After a very brief discussion, Kinshag was scaling the wall, seeking out handholds and working his way up to the alcove. Shortly he was within.
“Gold,” he called back, “There are thousands of gold pieces up here, and gems as well.”
“See if they will fit in here,” said Alairic and tossed up the bag he had just acquired, the one that seemed to hold so much. Kinshag swiftly swept it all into the bag. It did indeed fit.
“I knew it,” said Alairic with a grin, “a bag of holding.” He had heard tales of such bags.
“There are reptilian tracks down here,” said Niccolo examining the floor, “Large reptilian tracks.” Images of the great dragon filled their minds but they soon realized the tracks were too small for that.
“The daughter,” was Niccolo’s conclusion, “but I don’t want to meet up with her again either.”
Filled suddenly with a sense of urgency, they swept out of the temple, emerging at last into the bright sun of morning. They saw no-one and nothing around and so moved quickly southwards through the woods towards the cliff and the ledge. It was not actually that far and they made good time. As they reached the cliff, they heard a scream in the distance. It was a high wail coming from the direction in which they had just come. Alairic’s and Tilliana’s first impulse was to go back and see who needed help, but as a second scream sounded in the distance, they could hear the anger in it and realized it was no one in need of help. As swiftly as they could, they lowered the lift to the ground and raced into the woods, southwards towards the beach.
The sight that met their eyes when they finally reached the beach some minutes later was not the one they expected. The ship was no longer in the water. It had been dragged a hundred yards onto shore, up to the line of the trees. The masts had been snapped and there was a ragged hole in the hull. As they stared dumbfounded at the beached ship, eyes began looking out fearfully from within the ship.
“Its them,” said a voice and soon a crowd of villagers was exiting the bowels of the ship to greet the heroes.
“What happened,” said Niccolo.
“It was the dragon,” said Tiolo, moving through the crowd, “He came the night after you left and pulled the ship ashore. He told us that he would keep his word even if others could not keep theirs and took two of us. We could do nothing to stop him. And he has done the same thing each evening, he has taken six total since you left.”
“How are we going to get home!” wailed a woman.
The companions wondered the same thing. Hope seemed to have fled.
“Well, lets go fight the dragon,” said Tilliana stoutly, “the young one.”
“What!” said Alairic.
“Maybe we can get her to get her father to free us,” said Tilliana, “or allow us to hitch a ride.” Alairic shook his head doubtfully.
“Maybe we could get Niccolo to swim and pull the ship in his teeth,” said Alairic. Niccolo shot the paladin a look. Tilliana observed Niccolo’s slowed condition and decided that maybe they weren’t quite up to fighting the small dragon.
“Maybe we have to make a wish after all,” observed Niccolo.
Tilliana’s brain was racing however and as she recalled her dream from a few nights before she scrambled through her belongings until she found the white feather she had taken off of the dead pirate captain. The words of the song from the dream came back to her.
“When you stand upon the sand,
with a feather in your hand,
say oldama…”
Holding the feather in her hand she stood uncertainly, looking at the beach, wondering where she should stand. Should she stand by the destroyed boat or by the water’s edge. She stood there for several minutes, unmindful of the others trying to calm the villagers. Alairic was speaking to them in small groups and individually, trying to encourage them. Finally he noticed Tilliana. Going to where she was standing Alairic saw her holding the white feather.
“Need help?” he asked.
Swiftly Tilliana explained her dream to Alairic and as she did so, she made up her mind. Striding towards the water, she stopped just at the edge. Then, holding the feather aloft, she strode purposefully into the ocean water and said, “Oldama.”
The feather flew from her hand, and landing on the water, transformed in a blinding flash of white light into a white boat, shaped like a swan. Within the boat, there appeared to be enough room for all.
“That’s pretty,” said Niccolo.
“It’s a miracle,” whispered some of the villagers in awe.
“Praise Naemae!” said Tilliana, turning to the small crowd, “Now get in the boat.”
Each one clambered into the boat, Tilliana last of all. As she got in, she was aware, though she did not know how, that the boat would move at her direction. Getting her bearing she tried to decide which way to go.
“Which way is southwest?” Tilliana asked Niccolo. Niccolo took his bearing and pointed.
“That’s the way we go then,” said Tilliana. And soon the swan boat was gliding through the ocean water.
As they left the island behind, they caught a glimpse of a small green draconic figure gliding over the tree tops, but soon the island was behind them, dwindling in the distance.
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Wicht
Hero
Chapter 13 Xaarum
They sighted land in the early hours of the morning and beached the swan boat in the sand of a small, but hospitable bay. One of the villagers recognized the location.
“We are only a few miles from home,” he said, and then realizing his home had been destroyed, “Or what is left of it.”
“How far from Taesoo?” asked Alairic.
“About six miles,” said the man. With little to do during the trip but rest, most of the villagers felt awake enough to make the journey.
The sun was just starting to clear the horizon when the group tracked into Taesoo. News spread quickly, and soon the whole village was awake and celebrating the return of their friends and family. The whole village that is, except for the mayor, who rumor had it, rarely got out of bed until three hours or so into the day. Alairic, deciding the mayor should be notified, led the way to his house. He was indeed asleep, but soon the noise drew him out and as the situation was explained to him, he declared the day a town holiday. Everyone cheered and clapped.
“I want to think you,” the mayor said to Alairic, Tilliana and Niccolo, “These are people we thought to never see again. At least we know they have their lives, though of course, their houses have been destroyed and they have absolutely no money now.”
“Do they have any talents?” asked Tilliana.
“They are mostly just simple fishermen and the wives of fishermen,” said the mayor, his eyes darting craftily up, “If only they had something to fall back on, someone to help them.”
The three talked it over, including Kinshag in the discussion as he had earned a portion of the gold, and decided to help each individual. Taking the gold they had taken from the pirates, the feathered creature and, apparently, the young dragoness, they counted out 50 gold pieces to each of the villagers they had rescued. If there had been any doubt of the status of the four before, there was no doubt afterwards. In the eyes of all, they were heroes. The mayor smiled heartily and promised to spread the word far and wide of what they had done.
Later, after the festivities had died down a little, the four heroes took their leave of the village and made their way back to where they had left the swan boat. It was gone.
“It must have vanished as it appeared.”
“Is the feather there?” asked Niccolo. They looked for it but saw no trace of it.
“It must have been a one time only thing,” said the Paladin.
Taking stock of their situation, they decided to go back to Xaarum and report to Deochoo. Having money to spend, Kinshag decided to accompany them.
It was getting close to evening when they walked through the city gates. Several, recognizing Niccolo, Alairic and Tilliana, hollered greetings.
One in particular stopped to talk to Tilliana. It was Rouna, her childhood friend, and now priestess in the Home Foundation. As usual, she was surrounded by a flock of children she was watching
“Hi Tilliana! Good to see you back safely. I missed you.”
“Hi,” said Tilliana, “How are your children?”
“Oh the girl is as healthy as ever and eight more months still, more or less, till I get to see the other one!”
“That’s great!”
“Hey, have you heard, oh but you wouldn’t have, Xaarum’s not been safe here lately, there have been three murders over the past three nights. Horrible things! The bodies have been hacked to pieces and whoever did it wrote in blood on the walls ‘For the children.’ Can you imagine? Who would do that for children?”
“I’ll say,” said Niccolo.
“Anyway, be careful,” said Rouna with a smile, “And come see me when you get a chance, I want to hear what you have been up to.”
“I will,” said Tilliana.
They made their way finally to their destination and entered in through the walls of the Citadel of Truth. Deochoo saw them readily in his office and heard their account.
“We will talk more about this later,” he said, “But you have done good.”
That night they rested in the Citadel, on comfortable beds.
The next day the four companions set about to examine and split up the treasure they had taken. A spell from Tilliana revealed that not only was Alairic’s sword and new-found bag magical, but so was the ring taken from the Pirate Captain and the mace Kinshag had taken from the feathered creature. Many of the coins were not from Xaarum and were therefore illegal to use in the city. There was also the matter of 11 gems. They visited several merchants to get fair prices for the gems and then visited the money changers to exchange the foreign coins for Xaarum minted pieces. When all was said and done each of the four had a share worth 1535 gold pieces, a respectable amount of money. The money split, they took their leave of each other. Tilliana desired to speak to Deochoo, as did Alairic, and Niccolo and Kinshag were interested in buying new arms and armor.
Deochoo was apparently expecting some sort of conversation and saw Tilliana in private first. Tilliana, it appeared, was ready to be tested for advancement. Speaking with her, Deochoo saw that indeed she was ready for greater duties and promised to promote her. There was, it appeared, to be a feast for them that evening, in their honor. The announcement would be made then.
“And now dear,” said Deochoo, “You must give thought to where you want to go. There are a number of possibilities. You may take either a fixed position or you may choose to undertake your quest of seeking, which will take you away from our company for four years.”
“What positions are open?” asked Tilliana.
“Well, there are two in the main, both of which you might be interested in. The first is of course Giovan’s former shrines. There is little doubt now that he is dead. You may work between Foorun and Taesoo if you choose, tending to the needs and safety of those villages. Or there is also currently a need for a servant in an area you are familiar with, Your father’s old territory. It too is under my current jurisdiction and is in need of someone to tend to its needs. There is also with that area another job the church wants done. We have no temple in Geanuvue and that is not good. But the city there is resistant to the faith and it has been deemed that the best way to establish a temple in the city is first to gain the trust and following of a large number in the area north of the city.”
From Tilliana’s expression, it was apparent that this last option appealed to her the most. To work where her father had worked.
“Do not decide hastily,” said Deochoo, “it is a big decision. You can let me know what you decide tonight.”
“I will,” said Tilliana, and she took her leave of the old priest.
Alairic, who went into Deochoo’s office as soon as Tilliana exited was also expected by the venerable priest. Alairic, fumbling with his words, made it known that also desired promotion, if possible, feeling that having completed his quest for the Swift Sword, he had shown some ability to handle responsibility. Deochoo, with a smile, agreed to this as well and, just as he had promised Tilliana, so too he now promised to Alairic to make the announcement that evening.
They sighted land in the early hours of the morning and beached the swan boat in the sand of a small, but hospitable bay. One of the villagers recognized the location.
“We are only a few miles from home,” he said, and then realizing his home had been destroyed, “Or what is left of it.”
“How far from Taesoo?” asked Alairic.
“About six miles,” said the man. With little to do during the trip but rest, most of the villagers felt awake enough to make the journey.
The sun was just starting to clear the horizon when the group tracked into Taesoo. News spread quickly, and soon the whole village was awake and celebrating the return of their friends and family. The whole village that is, except for the mayor, who rumor had it, rarely got out of bed until three hours or so into the day. Alairic, deciding the mayor should be notified, led the way to his house. He was indeed asleep, but soon the noise drew him out and as the situation was explained to him, he declared the day a town holiday. Everyone cheered and clapped.
“I want to think you,” the mayor said to Alairic, Tilliana and Niccolo, “These are people we thought to never see again. At least we know they have their lives, though of course, their houses have been destroyed and they have absolutely no money now.”
“Do they have any talents?” asked Tilliana.
“They are mostly just simple fishermen and the wives of fishermen,” said the mayor, his eyes darting craftily up, “If only they had something to fall back on, someone to help them.”
The three talked it over, including Kinshag in the discussion as he had earned a portion of the gold, and decided to help each individual. Taking the gold they had taken from the pirates, the feathered creature and, apparently, the young dragoness, they counted out 50 gold pieces to each of the villagers they had rescued. If there had been any doubt of the status of the four before, there was no doubt afterwards. In the eyes of all, they were heroes. The mayor smiled heartily and promised to spread the word far and wide of what they had done.
Later, after the festivities had died down a little, the four heroes took their leave of the village and made their way back to where they had left the swan boat. It was gone.
“It must have vanished as it appeared.”
“Is the feather there?” asked Niccolo. They looked for it but saw no trace of it.
“It must have been a one time only thing,” said the Paladin.
Taking stock of their situation, they decided to go back to Xaarum and report to Deochoo. Having money to spend, Kinshag decided to accompany them.
It was getting close to evening when they walked through the city gates. Several, recognizing Niccolo, Alairic and Tilliana, hollered greetings.
One in particular stopped to talk to Tilliana. It was Rouna, her childhood friend, and now priestess in the Home Foundation. As usual, she was surrounded by a flock of children she was watching
“Hi Tilliana! Good to see you back safely. I missed you.”
“Hi,” said Tilliana, “How are your children?”
“Oh the girl is as healthy as ever and eight more months still, more or less, till I get to see the other one!”
“That’s great!”
“Hey, have you heard, oh but you wouldn’t have, Xaarum’s not been safe here lately, there have been three murders over the past three nights. Horrible things! The bodies have been hacked to pieces and whoever did it wrote in blood on the walls ‘For the children.’ Can you imagine? Who would do that for children?”
“I’ll say,” said Niccolo.
“Anyway, be careful,” said Rouna with a smile, “And come see me when you get a chance, I want to hear what you have been up to.”
“I will,” said Tilliana.
They made their way finally to their destination and entered in through the walls of the Citadel of Truth. Deochoo saw them readily in his office and heard their account.
“We will talk more about this later,” he said, “But you have done good.”
That night they rested in the Citadel, on comfortable beds.
The next day the four companions set about to examine and split up the treasure they had taken. A spell from Tilliana revealed that not only was Alairic’s sword and new-found bag magical, but so was the ring taken from the Pirate Captain and the mace Kinshag had taken from the feathered creature. Many of the coins were not from Xaarum and were therefore illegal to use in the city. There was also the matter of 11 gems. They visited several merchants to get fair prices for the gems and then visited the money changers to exchange the foreign coins for Xaarum minted pieces. When all was said and done each of the four had a share worth 1535 gold pieces, a respectable amount of money. The money split, they took their leave of each other. Tilliana desired to speak to Deochoo, as did Alairic, and Niccolo and Kinshag were interested in buying new arms and armor.
Deochoo was apparently expecting some sort of conversation and saw Tilliana in private first. Tilliana, it appeared, was ready to be tested for advancement. Speaking with her, Deochoo saw that indeed she was ready for greater duties and promised to promote her. There was, it appeared, to be a feast for them that evening, in their honor. The announcement would be made then.
“And now dear,” said Deochoo, “You must give thought to where you want to go. There are a number of possibilities. You may take either a fixed position or you may choose to undertake your quest of seeking, which will take you away from our company for four years.”
“What positions are open?” asked Tilliana.
“Well, there are two in the main, both of which you might be interested in. The first is of course Giovan’s former shrines. There is little doubt now that he is dead. You may work between Foorun and Taesoo if you choose, tending to the needs and safety of those villages. Or there is also currently a need for a servant in an area you are familiar with, Your father’s old territory. It too is under my current jurisdiction and is in need of someone to tend to its needs. There is also with that area another job the church wants done. We have no temple in Geanuvue and that is not good. But the city there is resistant to the faith and it has been deemed that the best way to establish a temple in the city is first to gain the trust and following of a large number in the area north of the city.”
From Tilliana’s expression, it was apparent that this last option appealed to her the most. To work where her father had worked.
“Do not decide hastily,” said Deochoo, “it is a big decision. You can let me know what you decide tonight.”
“I will,” said Tilliana, and she took her leave of the old priest.
Alairic, who went into Deochoo’s office as soon as Tilliana exited was also expected by the venerable priest. Alairic, fumbling with his words, made it known that also desired promotion, if possible, feeling that having completed his quest for the Swift Sword, he had shown some ability to handle responsibility. Deochoo, with a smile, agreed to this as well and, just as he had promised Tilliana, so too he now promised to Alairic to make the announcement that evening.
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Wicht
Hero
Letters
Daeloo, a doting mother
To Alairic, noble priest of the powerful Naemae,
Words fail to convey how proud I was to hear of your acceptance as one of the Servants of the Swift Sword. Having received your letter, I read it to all and sundry, until all were tired of hearing it again, all except for your father of course who is just as proud of your accomplishments as I am.
Your brother Dalair conspiring with your father continues to plan on scraping together enough money to buy your sisters’ freedom but a recent shipwreck has set those plans back. (You will be glad to hear that Dalair was unhurt, but all was lost when the ship went under the bay.) Dalair was despondent over it but has since signed on to a new ship, The White Tide, as a mate and claims that he will soon be a wealthy man. I don’t know how much of that is bluster, but Dalair assured me last night the Captain promises a profitable venture and Dalair hopes to recoup all that he lost in this one voyage. The ship leaves in the morning for Loona and ports north. We are lucky parents to have such talented sons. Your other two brothers of course continue to help your father around the place, and they are both starting to become very competent butlers.
I pray to the Traveler success for his venture. Unfortunately, Master Deisley has recently become very ill and the mistress is taking it hard. I am sorry to say, but she has broken up our family, something Master Deisley promised never to do. But he is scarcely out of his bed anymore. Your sister, Froidala, broke one of Mistress Deisley’s favorite vases while cleaning and the mistress had her sold. A Kalamaran merchant bought her and took her away with a host of other girls. I am fearful of her fate. Please keep Froidala in you prayers. I am sure such a thing would not have happened if Master Deisley still had his strength and I am fearful of what might happen if his illness proves to be final and no funds are available to fulfill the goals of your father. He estimates that for all of us to be freed at once, it will take almost 1000 in gold. Such a sum seems beyond hope to us presently. Dalair had saved almost enough to purchase freedom for one of your sisters, but again, alas, that gold is gone. We shall see though how Dalair’s present journey prospers him.
In the meantime, we shall continue as we have always continued. With any luck, my next letter to you shall be more positive.
Daeloo, a doting mother
To Alairic, noble priest of the powerful Naemae,
Words fail to convey how proud I was to hear of your acceptance as one of the Servants of the Swift Sword. Having received your letter, I read it to all and sundry, until all were tired of hearing it again, all except for your father of course who is just as proud of your accomplishments as I am.
Your brother Dalair conspiring with your father continues to plan on scraping together enough money to buy your sisters’ freedom but a recent shipwreck has set those plans back. (You will be glad to hear that Dalair was unhurt, but all was lost when the ship went under the bay.) Dalair was despondent over it but has since signed on to a new ship, The White Tide, as a mate and claims that he will soon be a wealthy man. I don’t know how much of that is bluster, but Dalair assured me last night the Captain promises a profitable venture and Dalair hopes to recoup all that he lost in this one voyage. The ship leaves in the morning for Loona and ports north. We are lucky parents to have such talented sons. Your other two brothers of course continue to help your father around the place, and they are both starting to become very competent butlers.
I pray to the Traveler success for his venture. Unfortunately, Master Deisley has recently become very ill and the mistress is taking it hard. I am sorry to say, but she has broken up our family, something Master Deisley promised never to do. But he is scarcely out of his bed anymore. Your sister, Froidala, broke one of Mistress Deisley’s favorite vases while cleaning and the mistress had her sold. A Kalamaran merchant bought her and took her away with a host of other girls. I am fearful of her fate. Please keep Froidala in you prayers. I am sure such a thing would not have happened if Master Deisley still had his strength and I am fearful of what might happen if his illness proves to be final and no funds are available to fulfill the goals of your father. He estimates that for all of us to be freed at once, it will take almost 1000 in gold. Such a sum seems beyond hope to us presently. Dalair had saved almost enough to purchase freedom for one of your sisters, but again, alas, that gold is gone. We shall see though how Dalair’s present journey prospers him.
In the meantime, we shall continue as we have always continued. With any luck, my next letter to you shall be more positive.
Wicht
Hero
Chapter 14 - Xaarum
It was still raining when Tilliana was awakened by her mother. The rain, which had threatened the day before, had begun during the night and had yet to let up.
“Get up! Get up!” said Zailoo, grabbing her daughter’s clothes and armor and placing them on the bed. “There’s been another murder.”
“Another murder?” murmured Tilliana, struggling to awaken. As Deochoo had promised, there had been a feast the night before in honor of the four heroes. The meal had been very large and Deochoo’s praise had been heavy. He had not only promoted Alairic and dressed him in the blue robes of a defender, but he had also made it clear to all that Tilliana was soon to be leaving for a great position of responsibility. The evening had been exhausting in its own way.
“Rouna’s husband, Goetai. I just heard. I thought you should go and make sure she’s alright, poor girl. Hurry now,” urged Zailoo as she begun to hunt for clean socks.
“Rouna’s husband?” said Tilliana, sitting up.
It did not take long for Tilliana to be out the door and making the trek through the rain from the Citadel of Truth to the Great Hearth, the temple of the Home Foundation, on the other side of Xaarum. The day before, Tilliana had heard of a fourth murder. Indeed, everyone in Xaarum had heard of the fourth murder. A gnome, a toymaker by trade, had been brutally murdered in his bed, and over the bed, on the wall, in his own blood, had been written, “For the children.” The fourth such murder in as many days could not help but draw the attention of the city. All the shopkeepers had been full of the news as she and Niccolo and Alairic had spent the day shopping.
But now it appeared, there had been a fifth murder, someone Tilliana had known. Rouna and Tilliana had been childhood friends, though as they each progressed in the training of their respective religions, they had grown further apart. Tilliana had not known Goetai very well, but she had been at his wedding due to her friendship with his wife. And now he was dead.
Tilliana found Rouna standing in the rain outside her house, cradling her daughter in her arms. Inside the house, all was illuminated as watchmen searched the house for any leads in the predawn darkness. Rouna and Goetai had lived in a house only a few hundred yards from the Great Hearth.
“Rouna,” said Tilliana drawing close to her friend.
“Tilliana, thank you for coming,” said Rouna and it was clear, even in the dim light and the rain that she had been heavily crying.
“What happened?” asked Tilliana.
“It was awful! I came home from service in the Great Hearth and found Reona all alone, Goetai was… was…” Rouna could not finish the sentence as tears once more overcame her.
Tilliana, not really used to such demonstrations felt awkward and it took her some time to get the story from Rouna. She had come home from a late shift in the temple to find her husband murdered and her young daughter upstairs alone, screaming her lungs out.
Another figure exited the house. Tilliana recognized her by sight as Mother Roalee, the priestess in charge of the Great Hearth and the Home Foundation in Xaarum.
“Hello Tilliana,” said Roalee, who almost never forgot a name, “It s terrible, I came over as soon as I heard. I had fully intended to call upon the Holy Mother to restore good Brother Goetai to us but then alas, I find that the monster responsible for these crimes has made it a habit to take the victims heart. Without the full body I can do nothing.”
“Oh Tilliana,” sobbed Rouna, “Can you help us, help us find his heart and the one who did this.”
Tilliana her mind awhirl, hesitated for a moment, but the sight of her sorrowful friend resolved her.
“Sure, I will help.”
“Excellent,” said Roalee, “Come with me, I will introduce you to the watchman in charge of the investigation, I am sure he will be glad for any help, the poor man is at such a loss over these and we have been able to give him no leads.”
The watchman was glad for any help. He had in fact already heard of the rescue of the coastal villagers from dragon isle and was thus doubly eager to have Tilliana volunteer to help search for the culprit.
“What we really need is a good tracker,” he lamented to Tilliana as he showed to her the front room of the house in which the grisly body of Goetai lay in pieces.
“A tracker,” said Tilliana, “I think I can get you one of those, I will be back shortly.”
It was about thirty minutes later that she returned with Niccolo and Alairic in tow and the sun was just breaking the horizon. Niccolo had agreed to come readily. Alairic had been a little harder to awaken, as he had feasted very strongly the night before, but once up he too had been agreeable to the idea of helping the watch.
Rouna had been taken to the warmth and comfort of the great hearth by Mother Roalee when the three arrived. But the three watchmen were still in the house. Tilliana and Alairic went to ask the guardsmen questions while Niccolo started looking around for anything that might be a clue.
Goetai had been killed in the front room of the house, but the watchman in charge made it clear that he thought the killer had entered through the back door. It had been open when Rouna had arrived home to find the body. On the wall by the door of the front room, written in blood were the words, “For the Children.” The body itself was in pieces, scattered about the room. One of the watchmen had the unfortunate tasks of placing the body into a bag for transfer to the Great Hearth.
Alairic, as suspicious as ever, immediatelly wanted to know why Rouna was not home at the time of the murder.
“Where was she? Why wasn’t she home?” he asked the watchman.
“She had a late shift at the temple, Goetai was home watching the kid and sleeping.”
“There’s footprints from the murderer here,” said Alairic, pointing out the bloodstained footprint going from the middle of the front room towards the front door.
“We saw those,” said the watchman, “But after all this rain, it will be impossible to follow them.”
“I want to try,” said Niccolo, “but first I’ll take a look at that back door.”
“How long has Goetai been dead?” asked Tilliana
“We know he was killed sometime last night, between midnight and about four hours after midnight.”
“Is there any connection between him and the other four victims?”
“That’s the thing, we can’t make out any real connection at all, except they were all killed in the same way, hacked to pieces and their heart taken from them.”
Niccolo returned from examining the back door. As the watchman who had taken him back there had said, it had not apparently been forced.
“Who were the victims?” asked Alairic.
“The first was a shopkeeper named Finn. He had a large family, lived over the shop. He was killed while his wife was at her sisters. She came back in the morning and found his body in the bed.”
“What kind of shop?”
“A general shop. Nothing exotic. He was well liked by all his neighbors. The second victim though was a beggar named Amoot. Also well liked, but with no family. He lived in a little basement apartment. He used to give candy to the children in the marketplace when he was begging for alms. The third victim was an actual officer of the watch. Also no family. No children and no connection to any children. And then yesterday it was a Gnome toymaker named Grongo. He lived alone except for his housekeeper and an apprentice. He too was killed in bed. And then Goetai last night.”
“There must be some connection,” said Alairic, his brain working feverishly trying to see one.
“They are all males,” said Niccolo helpfully.
“And they were all missing their hearts,” said Alairic, thinking aloud,
“And they were all hacked into pieces and each one had the same message written on the wall,” put in the watchman, “If you want I can give you the addresses of the other four victims and you can check out their places. I am not too proud to say you might be able to turn up something I couldn’t. To be honest, I am stumped.”
“Let’s see where these tracks go,” said Niccolo.
Niccolo was able to follow the tracks from the house for about a block and a half. They led towards the river and over the east bridge going towards the southern half of Xaarum. But the rain and the other street traffic made it impossible to follow them further.
“If you find out anything, anything at all, let me know,” said the watchman who had followed them from the house.”
“We will,” they replied.
“Let’s check out these addresses,” said Alairic
The first victim had maintained his shop near the northern end of the west bridge and they found it easily enough. He and his family had lived in a set of rooms over the shop, rooms reached via a set of stairs on the west side of the building. As the shop itself was unlit and locked, the three made their way up the stairs.
“The doors unlocked,” said Niccolo, opening it. There was a woman inside the room, packing things into a chest. She saw the three of them standing at her door in the early dawn light and began screaming.
“Aaagh. Murderers and Thieves! Call the Watch! Aaagh!!!”
“Uh, we are from the watch,” said Niccolo, stepping forward, “We were here to ask you some questions.”
“Guess we should have knocked,” said Alairic quietly.
“Oh,” said the woman, calming down when she saw the robes that Alairic and Tilliana wore, “You gave me such a start, I thought it was the murderer come back to do me in.”
“Sorry about that,” said Niccolo, “We are trying to help the watch.”
Inquiries by the trio revealed that the woman was the wife of the deceased, they had seven children, ages 15 to 2, and that the children were with her mother, which was where she was planning on moving.
“A merchant from Zoa is buying the store,” said the woman, “And such a relief it is too.”
“What is his name?” asked Tilliana.
“His name? Zoot I believe. He wants to settle down he says and get away from the hustle of Zoa.”
“Did your husband belong to any orginizations?” asked
Tilliana
“Well, he was a member in good standing with the merchants guild?”
“Any religion?” asked Niccolo
“We worship at the Great Hearth mostly. What with all our children, they consider us especially blessed and have always taken good care of us, Mother Roalee has.”
An examination of the bedroom revealed that there were marks on the windowsill from where the window had been forced open from the outside. Looking out the window they saw it was a sheer drop to the ground, about 12 to 15 feet. A skilled climber could have made the ascent, but scarcely anyone else. The rest of the room had already been scrubbed and thoroughly cleaned and no further clues were forthcoming
Before they left, Tilliana gave the woman a gift of 25 gold coins to help with her time of difficulty.
“Bless you,” said the woman gratefully.
The basement apartment of Amoot the beggar likewise yielded few clues. The small windowless room contained a bed, a fireplace and a large bloodstain on the floor. Above the bed were written, in dried blood, “For the Children.” The only other thing in the room was an old table with a jar full of candy on it. Otherwise the room was currently empty.
They asked around the neighborhood and found out that Amoot was well liked and though he was poor, he had always been very generous to anyone in need. Talking to the Landlord, Tilliana found out that it was he who had found the body. He had gone to check on Amoot, when he did not see him leave for the marketplace at his normal time. He had feared the old beggar had been ill. Tilliana also found out that the old man had had no family and had not been particularly religious.
It was after noon by the time they had finished making inquiries about the third victim, Kaliou the watchman. His room had already been thoroughly cleaned out but they managed to find out something about the man from his neighbors. One neighbor in particular, a man named Harmin Wainwright, claimed to have been a close friend of Kaliou’s and was very helpful. Kaliou had had no children, had when the mood took him, been a worshiper in the Citadel of Truth and had little social life.
“He spent all his time working, even when he was off duty, he would follow private investigations, almost as a hobby.”
“What was he working on before he died?” asked Tilliana
“His main thing at the moment,” said Harmin, “was the deaths of the merchants in their sleep. There’s been about a dozen deaths over the last ten months, guys just dying in their sleep for no real reason. Kaliou thought there was something suspicious about it and had been doing some digging.”
“So he might have been killed for investigating these other murders,” mused Alairic.
“Well, except they weren’t necessarily murders. There was no proof of poison or anything like that. They just died is all.”
“And these deaths are completely different,” said Niccolo, “These have been hacked apart.”
The fourth victim, the toymaker, has also been killed in a second floor room. He had been killed in his sleep. Questioning the apprentice and the housekeeper failed to turn up any clues. The gnome had been worshiped at the Great Hearth, but also at the shrine in the Fautee Forest. He had no family and nothing to connect him to the others except he had, like the shopkeeper, been a member of the merchant’s guild.
“Maybe,” said Alairic, as they walked the muddy streets of Xaarum, “maybe we are looking at this children bit all wrong. Maybe its not for the children generally…”
“Meaning that it refers to someone’s children specifically,” said Tilliana.
“Let’s see what we have,” said Alairic, “The shopkeepers children were 2 to 15 in age, the beggar had no children, the toymaker… I wonder what the age is for playing with toys?”
“We have two that belonged to the Great Hearth, three with Goetai, and one that worshiped at the Citadel,” said Niccolo.
“Two of them belonged to the merchant’s guild.”
“I think that the one was killed for investigating the merchants,” said Tilliana.
“We don’t know that,” protested Alairic.
“It’s just a feeling.”
They argued it out a little longer and then Alairic’s stomach decided it was time to get something to eat. They had been going since before dawn and they had not eaten all day. It was getting close to the fourth hour of the afternoon. They returned to the Citadel of Truth where Tilliana’s mother prepared them a meal.
As they ate they discussed the problem. Niccolo decided that the thing to do was spread a rumor around Xaarum stating that they had information that would lead to the arrest of the culprit and that they would reveal it the next day. Alairic thought the merchant’s guild ought to be investigated and Tilliana decided to consult with Deochoo and see if he would seek divine guidance on their behalf. Thus, after they were done eating they went their separate ways.
Niccolo tried valiantly to spread the rumor but even he could tell he was meeting with little success. Alairic had slightly more luck. Asking around the merchants guild revealed little until the subject turned to Kaliou, the dead watchman. The members of the guild remembered him well. Kaliou had confided to a few of them that he felt certain the dead merchants were being somehow poisoned, but he could not find out how.
Tilliana, however, probably had the most success of all. Deochoo readily agreed to cast a divination for her and after much prayer received an answer. The killer was “a maddened griffin, twisted by death’s servant, seeking to protect the children.” Deochoo understood the message no better than Tilliana, but at least it was something to go on.
The three companions were awakened the next morning by a member of the watch who had been asked to fetch them.
“There’s been another killing,” he explained breathlessly as they hurried out of the gate of the Citadel, “A halfling woman, a widow.”
They arrived soon at the house, situated on the southern side of Xaarum. Inside the watchman who they had spoken to the day before greeted them. As they went into the house, they all noticed the woman’s many valuable possessions.
“Apparently it was not a robbery,” observed Niccolo.
She too had been killed in her bedroom. The blood was still fresh and a copper tang filled the air. Again, the words, “For the Children,” had been written in blood over the bed.
“Good thing we haven’t had breakfast yet,” said Niccolo wryly.
There were bootprints in the blood and they led to the window. The three went downstairs and out of the house, around to the area underneath the window. Niccolo examined the ground carefully. The tracks, thanks to the rain of the previous day, were easy enough to read in the mud. A man had jumped from the window, landing below. He had then walked off to the street. Eager to have such a fresh and easy trail, Niccolo sped off after the tracks. The other two followed behind. A member of the watch went with them.
He followed the tracks along the street for about two blocks and then as they went off the street, between two buildings he lost them. Niccolo and the other three searched the area closely but could turn up no clues.
“This is frustrating,” said Niccolo.
“Let’s ask around,” said Alairic, “Maybe someone around here knows something.”
Going door to door they asked questions, at first turning up nothing. And then by a stroke of luck, the word Griffin at the right door turned up the fact that there was a man named Griffin who lived in the neighborhood.
“Griffin One-handed,” said the woman they were talking to, “Strange fellow, big scar on his face, dark hair, you can’t miss him. He lives in a basement apartment just around the corner over there.”
Armed with this new knowledge the renewed their questioning of the neighbors, learning that Griffin One-handed was not well liked, most thought him fairly strange.
“He never smiles,” explained one man, “I don’t think I ever saw him smile.”
Griffin it turned out was a tax-collector who mostly kept to himself. He only ever had a few visitors.
They went to pay Griffin a visit. He lived in the basement of a two story house. A family of Gnomes lived over his apartment and the owner of the building lived on the third floor with his family.
Going down the steps to the basement door, Alairic knocked.
“Who is it?” came the voice of a man through the thick door.
“Servants of the Swift Sword,” said Niccolo loudly.
“What do you want?”
“We are here for your Taxes,” said Niccolo.
“That’s a good one, pull the other one!”
“What?” said Alairic quietly, puzzled by the reply.
“We want to talk to you about some murders,” hollered Niccolo.
There was a moment of silence followed by the sound of a bolt being thrown shut. The man on the other side had just locked the door on them.
“Now what?” asked Alairic, “We can’t just barge in there, that would be against the law.”
Inside they heard the sound of a metal door of some sort being banged open and the rustling of paper.
“We ought to get the watch,” said Alairic.
“I will go get them,” said Niccolo taking off up the stairs quickly.
The metal door could be heard slamming shut and then they heard the sound of another door being slammed shut.
“The landlord,” said Tilliana, “he can let us in.” Then she noticed the door was barred not locked.
“He can give us permission to break this one down,” said Alairic.
Tilliana ran up to get the man and soon returned with him in tow. She was explaining the situation to him as they hurried towards the door.
The man appeared exasperated as he saw them standing there, “Why didn’t you just break down the door,” he said.
Alairic rolled his eyes.
Together he and Tilliana rammed their shoulders into the door. The door burst open for them and Tillian barreled into the room beyond.
It was sparsely furnished. There was a table and a chair and in the middle of the room an iron stove of dwarf design. Hanging on the walls were weapons of every sort, including some very exotic weapons. Across the room was another door, a stout wooden door.
Tilliana rushed to the stove and opened the metal door on its side. Inside papers were burning. Looking carefully inside, she thrust her hand in and pulled out one of the papers. It was only half burnt. She looked back in. The rest seemed unsalvageable. She opened up the paper and read.
And then I saw the wretched priest take his son, tie him down and beat him till blood flowed from the poor boy’s back. Truly it was horrible to watch, but what could I do, I had yet to collect his taxes. The neighborhood children tell me it is not true, but that is only because he made them lie lest he lose his position in the temple. Their denials only make the case that much stronger. Surely each of them has felt the sting of his whip at one time or another!
Dispatching the vile offender can only be a blessing to his child and his child to be. If this is how he treats other’s children, what must his own be suffering in silence.
-T
So engrossed was Tilliana in this fragment of a letter that she scarcely noticed the crossbow bolt that flew out of a small opening on the inward door of the room. The bolt flew across the room, narrowly missing Alairic. It landed with a thud in the wall. Reacting quickly Alairic ducked and rolled towards the door. He crouched below the murder hole in the door, out of sight and therefore out of harms way. The owner of the building, seeing the bolt quivering in the wall near him, ducked outside.
There was the sound of a crossbow being loaded and then another bolt flew out, missing Tilliana, who was still reading.
“Cease and desist!” yelled Alairic.
“You will never take me alive you child abusers!” came the reply.
Alairic was confused. “I think you have the wrong people. We are no child abusers.”
“I know what goes on in those temples!”
“I think you have the wrong idea,” said Alairic puzzled. Tilliana, put away the letter and took in the situation.
There was the sound of another bolt being loaded. With a shout Tilliana charged at the door, sword out and shoulder lowered. A bolt flew out of the murder-hole. It struck Tilliana, burying itself in her side. Without stopping, Tilliana crashed into the door, ripping it from its hinges.
Alairic, his sword out, rushed into the room beyond after Tilliana. The room was dark, lit only with a single candle, but Alairic could still make out the figure of the man on the other side of Tilliana.
Spinning around and past Tilliana, Alairic cried out, “I smite you evil-doer!” his sword just caught the man. There was a blinding flash of light that illuminated the whole room and the other stumbled back, severely wounded. With a snarl, the man pulled savagely on a rope which hung from the ceiling. There was a creak and then the ceiling above crashed down towards Alairic and Tilliana. Tilliana tried to duck out of the way and strike at the man at the same time, but a falling piece of wood struck her head and shoulder and her aim was thrown off. Alairic however fared better and rolling out of the way of the falling ceiling, he swung again, cleaving another hole in their attacker. With a gurgle the man collapsed to the ground, dying.
Niccolo chose that moment to rush into the building, followed by two watchmen.
“You missed it,” said Alairic with a grin.
Niccolo, realizing that Griffin One-hand was not dead, rushed to administer first aid. “Perhaps he can talk,” he explained.
The others looked around the room. The two windows in the room had been painted black. Next to the door, six objects had been nailed to the wall. Looking at them, they realized they were human hearts.
“I don’t think there’s any doubt but this is our man,” said one of the watchmen, “There’s six hearts and if that ain’t evidence I don’t know what is.”
Above, two gnomes looked down through the hole in their floor at the strange scene.
Meanwhile Tilliana was starting to feel pain. Her muscles were sore and she was having some trouble moving. It appeared that the bolt that had hit her had been poisoned.
Examining the still unconscious Griffin, they turned up a vial of something that did indeed appear to be poison. He also had a quality dagger, made all the more striking by the pink pearl in the hilt.
“You can keep that,” said one of the watchmen generously as he helped Griffin to his feet. He was barely conscious and it did not look like he was up to speaking.
“We’ll take him to holding and you all can come and question him at your leisure when he has a bit more strength. You done good here. Go ahead and look around if you want while we haul him off. There might be something here.”
As the guards hauled Griffin away, Tilliana handed the fragment of paper to the other two to read.
“He was a nut,” was Alairic’s conclusion.
“He didn’t write the letter,” said Tilliana, “It was signed with a T, not a G.”
“Who did write it then?”
“Another tax-collector,” said Tilliana.
Looking around, they discovered a chest under the bed. Niccolo split it open with his great-ax, revealing about 300 gold coins. They took the gold coins and some of the weapons off of the wall. They also, not being able to tell which heart was which, took all six hearts with them.
Roalee was able to use divine spells to ascertain the right heart and once she knew this, Goetai was raised from the dead. It was a rare event in Xaarum and the whole city rejoiced at the success of the three heroes in bringing Griffin to justice.
Unfortunately they were unable to question Griffin. He never made it to a cell. A drunken man had bumped into the watchmen escorting Griffin to jail. In the ensuing mishap, possibly thanks to the mud, the drunk, Griffin, and one of the watchmen had fallen to the ground. By the time the watchmen realized they could not get Griffin to stand because he was good and dead, it was too late, the drunk had disappeared.
Tilliana, Niccolo and Alairic decided to split the 300 gold coins they had found in Griffins room among the families of the bereaved. Kaliou had no family and so they gave the 50 gold pieces to the watchman’s guild in his honor. Likewise Amoot the beggar had no family. They finally decided to buy 50 gold pieces worth of candy and distribute it to all the children of Xaarum in his honor. Many kids, as a result, developed tummy-aches, but there was no doubt that for a moment anyhow, the three companions were heroes of all.
It was still raining when Tilliana was awakened by her mother. The rain, which had threatened the day before, had begun during the night and had yet to let up.
“Get up! Get up!” said Zailoo, grabbing her daughter’s clothes and armor and placing them on the bed. “There’s been another murder.”
“Another murder?” murmured Tilliana, struggling to awaken. As Deochoo had promised, there had been a feast the night before in honor of the four heroes. The meal had been very large and Deochoo’s praise had been heavy. He had not only promoted Alairic and dressed him in the blue robes of a defender, but he had also made it clear to all that Tilliana was soon to be leaving for a great position of responsibility. The evening had been exhausting in its own way.
“Rouna’s husband, Goetai. I just heard. I thought you should go and make sure she’s alright, poor girl. Hurry now,” urged Zailoo as she begun to hunt for clean socks.
“Rouna’s husband?” said Tilliana, sitting up.
It did not take long for Tilliana to be out the door and making the trek through the rain from the Citadel of Truth to the Great Hearth, the temple of the Home Foundation, on the other side of Xaarum. The day before, Tilliana had heard of a fourth murder. Indeed, everyone in Xaarum had heard of the fourth murder. A gnome, a toymaker by trade, had been brutally murdered in his bed, and over the bed, on the wall, in his own blood, had been written, “For the children.” The fourth such murder in as many days could not help but draw the attention of the city. All the shopkeepers had been full of the news as she and Niccolo and Alairic had spent the day shopping.
But now it appeared, there had been a fifth murder, someone Tilliana had known. Rouna and Tilliana had been childhood friends, though as they each progressed in the training of their respective religions, they had grown further apart. Tilliana had not known Goetai very well, but she had been at his wedding due to her friendship with his wife. And now he was dead.
Tilliana found Rouna standing in the rain outside her house, cradling her daughter in her arms. Inside the house, all was illuminated as watchmen searched the house for any leads in the predawn darkness. Rouna and Goetai had lived in a house only a few hundred yards from the Great Hearth.
“Rouna,” said Tilliana drawing close to her friend.
“Tilliana, thank you for coming,” said Rouna and it was clear, even in the dim light and the rain that she had been heavily crying.
“What happened?” asked Tilliana.
“It was awful! I came home from service in the Great Hearth and found Reona all alone, Goetai was… was…” Rouna could not finish the sentence as tears once more overcame her.
Tilliana, not really used to such demonstrations felt awkward and it took her some time to get the story from Rouna. She had come home from a late shift in the temple to find her husband murdered and her young daughter upstairs alone, screaming her lungs out.
Another figure exited the house. Tilliana recognized her by sight as Mother Roalee, the priestess in charge of the Great Hearth and the Home Foundation in Xaarum.
“Hello Tilliana,” said Roalee, who almost never forgot a name, “It s terrible, I came over as soon as I heard. I had fully intended to call upon the Holy Mother to restore good Brother Goetai to us but then alas, I find that the monster responsible for these crimes has made it a habit to take the victims heart. Without the full body I can do nothing.”
“Oh Tilliana,” sobbed Rouna, “Can you help us, help us find his heart and the one who did this.”
Tilliana her mind awhirl, hesitated for a moment, but the sight of her sorrowful friend resolved her.
“Sure, I will help.”
“Excellent,” said Roalee, “Come with me, I will introduce you to the watchman in charge of the investigation, I am sure he will be glad for any help, the poor man is at such a loss over these and we have been able to give him no leads.”
The watchman was glad for any help. He had in fact already heard of the rescue of the coastal villagers from dragon isle and was thus doubly eager to have Tilliana volunteer to help search for the culprit.
“What we really need is a good tracker,” he lamented to Tilliana as he showed to her the front room of the house in which the grisly body of Goetai lay in pieces.
“A tracker,” said Tilliana, “I think I can get you one of those, I will be back shortly.”
It was about thirty minutes later that she returned with Niccolo and Alairic in tow and the sun was just breaking the horizon. Niccolo had agreed to come readily. Alairic had been a little harder to awaken, as he had feasted very strongly the night before, but once up he too had been agreeable to the idea of helping the watch.
Rouna had been taken to the warmth and comfort of the great hearth by Mother Roalee when the three arrived. But the three watchmen were still in the house. Tilliana and Alairic went to ask the guardsmen questions while Niccolo started looking around for anything that might be a clue.
Goetai had been killed in the front room of the house, but the watchman in charge made it clear that he thought the killer had entered through the back door. It had been open when Rouna had arrived home to find the body. On the wall by the door of the front room, written in blood were the words, “For the Children.” The body itself was in pieces, scattered about the room. One of the watchmen had the unfortunate tasks of placing the body into a bag for transfer to the Great Hearth.
Alairic, as suspicious as ever, immediatelly wanted to know why Rouna was not home at the time of the murder.
“Where was she? Why wasn’t she home?” he asked the watchman.
“She had a late shift at the temple, Goetai was home watching the kid and sleeping.”
“There’s footprints from the murderer here,” said Alairic, pointing out the bloodstained footprint going from the middle of the front room towards the front door.
“We saw those,” said the watchman, “But after all this rain, it will be impossible to follow them.”
“I want to try,” said Niccolo, “but first I’ll take a look at that back door.”
“How long has Goetai been dead?” asked Tilliana
“We know he was killed sometime last night, between midnight and about four hours after midnight.”
“Is there any connection between him and the other four victims?”
“That’s the thing, we can’t make out any real connection at all, except they were all killed in the same way, hacked to pieces and their heart taken from them.”
Niccolo returned from examining the back door. As the watchman who had taken him back there had said, it had not apparently been forced.
“Who were the victims?” asked Alairic.
“The first was a shopkeeper named Finn. He had a large family, lived over the shop. He was killed while his wife was at her sisters. She came back in the morning and found his body in the bed.”
“What kind of shop?”
“A general shop. Nothing exotic. He was well liked by all his neighbors. The second victim though was a beggar named Amoot. Also well liked, but with no family. He lived in a little basement apartment. He used to give candy to the children in the marketplace when he was begging for alms. The third victim was an actual officer of the watch. Also no family. No children and no connection to any children. And then yesterday it was a Gnome toymaker named Grongo. He lived alone except for his housekeeper and an apprentice. He too was killed in bed. And then Goetai last night.”
“There must be some connection,” said Alairic, his brain working feverishly trying to see one.
“They are all males,” said Niccolo helpfully.
“And they were all missing their hearts,” said Alairic, thinking aloud,
“And they were all hacked into pieces and each one had the same message written on the wall,” put in the watchman, “If you want I can give you the addresses of the other four victims and you can check out their places. I am not too proud to say you might be able to turn up something I couldn’t. To be honest, I am stumped.”
“Let’s see where these tracks go,” said Niccolo.
Niccolo was able to follow the tracks from the house for about a block and a half. They led towards the river and over the east bridge going towards the southern half of Xaarum. But the rain and the other street traffic made it impossible to follow them further.
“If you find out anything, anything at all, let me know,” said the watchman who had followed them from the house.”
“We will,” they replied.
“Let’s check out these addresses,” said Alairic
The first victim had maintained his shop near the northern end of the west bridge and they found it easily enough. He and his family had lived in a set of rooms over the shop, rooms reached via a set of stairs on the west side of the building. As the shop itself was unlit and locked, the three made their way up the stairs.
“The doors unlocked,” said Niccolo, opening it. There was a woman inside the room, packing things into a chest. She saw the three of them standing at her door in the early dawn light and began screaming.
“Aaagh. Murderers and Thieves! Call the Watch! Aaagh!!!”
“Uh, we are from the watch,” said Niccolo, stepping forward, “We were here to ask you some questions.”
“Guess we should have knocked,” said Alairic quietly.
“Oh,” said the woman, calming down when she saw the robes that Alairic and Tilliana wore, “You gave me such a start, I thought it was the murderer come back to do me in.”
“Sorry about that,” said Niccolo, “We are trying to help the watch.”
Inquiries by the trio revealed that the woman was the wife of the deceased, they had seven children, ages 15 to 2, and that the children were with her mother, which was where she was planning on moving.
“A merchant from Zoa is buying the store,” said the woman, “And such a relief it is too.”
“What is his name?” asked Tilliana.
“His name? Zoot I believe. He wants to settle down he says and get away from the hustle of Zoa.”
“Did your husband belong to any orginizations?” asked
Tilliana
“Well, he was a member in good standing with the merchants guild?”
“Any religion?” asked Niccolo
“We worship at the Great Hearth mostly. What with all our children, they consider us especially blessed and have always taken good care of us, Mother Roalee has.”
An examination of the bedroom revealed that there were marks on the windowsill from where the window had been forced open from the outside. Looking out the window they saw it was a sheer drop to the ground, about 12 to 15 feet. A skilled climber could have made the ascent, but scarcely anyone else. The rest of the room had already been scrubbed and thoroughly cleaned and no further clues were forthcoming
Before they left, Tilliana gave the woman a gift of 25 gold coins to help with her time of difficulty.
“Bless you,” said the woman gratefully.
The basement apartment of Amoot the beggar likewise yielded few clues. The small windowless room contained a bed, a fireplace and a large bloodstain on the floor. Above the bed were written, in dried blood, “For the Children.” The only other thing in the room was an old table with a jar full of candy on it. Otherwise the room was currently empty.
They asked around the neighborhood and found out that Amoot was well liked and though he was poor, he had always been very generous to anyone in need. Talking to the Landlord, Tilliana found out that it was he who had found the body. He had gone to check on Amoot, when he did not see him leave for the marketplace at his normal time. He had feared the old beggar had been ill. Tilliana also found out that the old man had had no family and had not been particularly religious.
It was after noon by the time they had finished making inquiries about the third victim, Kaliou the watchman. His room had already been thoroughly cleaned out but they managed to find out something about the man from his neighbors. One neighbor in particular, a man named Harmin Wainwright, claimed to have been a close friend of Kaliou’s and was very helpful. Kaliou had had no children, had when the mood took him, been a worshiper in the Citadel of Truth and had little social life.
“He spent all his time working, even when he was off duty, he would follow private investigations, almost as a hobby.”
“What was he working on before he died?” asked Tilliana
“His main thing at the moment,” said Harmin, “was the deaths of the merchants in their sleep. There’s been about a dozen deaths over the last ten months, guys just dying in their sleep for no real reason. Kaliou thought there was something suspicious about it and had been doing some digging.”
“So he might have been killed for investigating these other murders,” mused Alairic.
“Well, except they weren’t necessarily murders. There was no proof of poison or anything like that. They just died is all.”
“And these deaths are completely different,” said Niccolo, “These have been hacked apart.”
The fourth victim, the toymaker, has also been killed in a second floor room. He had been killed in his sleep. Questioning the apprentice and the housekeeper failed to turn up any clues. The gnome had been worshiped at the Great Hearth, but also at the shrine in the Fautee Forest. He had no family and nothing to connect him to the others except he had, like the shopkeeper, been a member of the merchant’s guild.
“Maybe,” said Alairic, as they walked the muddy streets of Xaarum, “maybe we are looking at this children bit all wrong. Maybe its not for the children generally…”
“Meaning that it refers to someone’s children specifically,” said Tilliana.
“Let’s see what we have,” said Alairic, “The shopkeepers children were 2 to 15 in age, the beggar had no children, the toymaker… I wonder what the age is for playing with toys?”
“We have two that belonged to the Great Hearth, three with Goetai, and one that worshiped at the Citadel,” said Niccolo.
“Two of them belonged to the merchant’s guild.”
“I think that the one was killed for investigating the merchants,” said Tilliana.
“We don’t know that,” protested Alairic.
“It’s just a feeling.”
They argued it out a little longer and then Alairic’s stomach decided it was time to get something to eat. They had been going since before dawn and they had not eaten all day. It was getting close to the fourth hour of the afternoon. They returned to the Citadel of Truth where Tilliana’s mother prepared them a meal.
As they ate they discussed the problem. Niccolo decided that the thing to do was spread a rumor around Xaarum stating that they had information that would lead to the arrest of the culprit and that they would reveal it the next day. Alairic thought the merchant’s guild ought to be investigated and Tilliana decided to consult with Deochoo and see if he would seek divine guidance on their behalf. Thus, after they were done eating they went their separate ways.
Niccolo tried valiantly to spread the rumor but even he could tell he was meeting with little success. Alairic had slightly more luck. Asking around the merchants guild revealed little until the subject turned to Kaliou, the dead watchman. The members of the guild remembered him well. Kaliou had confided to a few of them that he felt certain the dead merchants were being somehow poisoned, but he could not find out how.
Tilliana, however, probably had the most success of all. Deochoo readily agreed to cast a divination for her and after much prayer received an answer. The killer was “a maddened griffin, twisted by death’s servant, seeking to protect the children.” Deochoo understood the message no better than Tilliana, but at least it was something to go on.
The three companions were awakened the next morning by a member of the watch who had been asked to fetch them.
“There’s been another killing,” he explained breathlessly as they hurried out of the gate of the Citadel, “A halfling woman, a widow.”
They arrived soon at the house, situated on the southern side of Xaarum. Inside the watchman who they had spoken to the day before greeted them. As they went into the house, they all noticed the woman’s many valuable possessions.
“Apparently it was not a robbery,” observed Niccolo.
She too had been killed in her bedroom. The blood was still fresh and a copper tang filled the air. Again, the words, “For the Children,” had been written in blood over the bed.
“Good thing we haven’t had breakfast yet,” said Niccolo wryly.
There were bootprints in the blood and they led to the window. The three went downstairs and out of the house, around to the area underneath the window. Niccolo examined the ground carefully. The tracks, thanks to the rain of the previous day, were easy enough to read in the mud. A man had jumped from the window, landing below. He had then walked off to the street. Eager to have such a fresh and easy trail, Niccolo sped off after the tracks. The other two followed behind. A member of the watch went with them.
He followed the tracks along the street for about two blocks and then as they went off the street, between two buildings he lost them. Niccolo and the other three searched the area closely but could turn up no clues.
“This is frustrating,” said Niccolo.
“Let’s ask around,” said Alairic, “Maybe someone around here knows something.”
Going door to door they asked questions, at first turning up nothing. And then by a stroke of luck, the word Griffin at the right door turned up the fact that there was a man named Griffin who lived in the neighborhood.
“Griffin One-handed,” said the woman they were talking to, “Strange fellow, big scar on his face, dark hair, you can’t miss him. He lives in a basement apartment just around the corner over there.”
Armed with this new knowledge the renewed their questioning of the neighbors, learning that Griffin One-handed was not well liked, most thought him fairly strange.
“He never smiles,” explained one man, “I don’t think I ever saw him smile.”
Griffin it turned out was a tax-collector who mostly kept to himself. He only ever had a few visitors.
They went to pay Griffin a visit. He lived in the basement of a two story house. A family of Gnomes lived over his apartment and the owner of the building lived on the third floor with his family.
Going down the steps to the basement door, Alairic knocked.
“Who is it?” came the voice of a man through the thick door.
“Servants of the Swift Sword,” said Niccolo loudly.
“What do you want?”
“We are here for your Taxes,” said Niccolo.
“That’s a good one, pull the other one!”
“What?” said Alairic quietly, puzzled by the reply.
“We want to talk to you about some murders,” hollered Niccolo.
There was a moment of silence followed by the sound of a bolt being thrown shut. The man on the other side had just locked the door on them.
“Now what?” asked Alairic, “We can’t just barge in there, that would be against the law.”
Inside they heard the sound of a metal door of some sort being banged open and the rustling of paper.
“We ought to get the watch,” said Alairic.
“I will go get them,” said Niccolo taking off up the stairs quickly.
The metal door could be heard slamming shut and then they heard the sound of another door being slammed shut.
“The landlord,” said Tilliana, “he can let us in.” Then she noticed the door was barred not locked.
“He can give us permission to break this one down,” said Alairic.
Tilliana ran up to get the man and soon returned with him in tow. She was explaining the situation to him as they hurried towards the door.
The man appeared exasperated as he saw them standing there, “Why didn’t you just break down the door,” he said.
Alairic rolled his eyes.
Together he and Tilliana rammed their shoulders into the door. The door burst open for them and Tillian barreled into the room beyond.
It was sparsely furnished. There was a table and a chair and in the middle of the room an iron stove of dwarf design. Hanging on the walls were weapons of every sort, including some very exotic weapons. Across the room was another door, a stout wooden door.
Tilliana rushed to the stove and opened the metal door on its side. Inside papers were burning. Looking carefully inside, she thrust her hand in and pulled out one of the papers. It was only half burnt. She looked back in. The rest seemed unsalvageable. She opened up the paper and read.
And then I saw the wretched priest take his son, tie him down and beat him till blood flowed from the poor boy’s back. Truly it was horrible to watch, but what could I do, I had yet to collect his taxes. The neighborhood children tell me it is not true, but that is only because he made them lie lest he lose his position in the temple. Their denials only make the case that much stronger. Surely each of them has felt the sting of his whip at one time or another!
Dispatching the vile offender can only be a blessing to his child and his child to be. If this is how he treats other’s children, what must his own be suffering in silence.
-T
So engrossed was Tilliana in this fragment of a letter that she scarcely noticed the crossbow bolt that flew out of a small opening on the inward door of the room. The bolt flew across the room, narrowly missing Alairic. It landed with a thud in the wall. Reacting quickly Alairic ducked and rolled towards the door. He crouched below the murder hole in the door, out of sight and therefore out of harms way. The owner of the building, seeing the bolt quivering in the wall near him, ducked outside.
There was the sound of a crossbow being loaded and then another bolt flew out, missing Tilliana, who was still reading.
“Cease and desist!” yelled Alairic.
“You will never take me alive you child abusers!” came the reply.
Alairic was confused. “I think you have the wrong people. We are no child abusers.”
“I know what goes on in those temples!”
“I think you have the wrong idea,” said Alairic puzzled. Tilliana, put away the letter and took in the situation.
There was the sound of another bolt being loaded. With a shout Tilliana charged at the door, sword out and shoulder lowered. A bolt flew out of the murder-hole. It struck Tilliana, burying itself in her side. Without stopping, Tilliana crashed into the door, ripping it from its hinges.
Alairic, his sword out, rushed into the room beyond after Tilliana. The room was dark, lit only with a single candle, but Alairic could still make out the figure of the man on the other side of Tilliana.
Spinning around and past Tilliana, Alairic cried out, “I smite you evil-doer!” his sword just caught the man. There was a blinding flash of light that illuminated the whole room and the other stumbled back, severely wounded. With a snarl, the man pulled savagely on a rope which hung from the ceiling. There was a creak and then the ceiling above crashed down towards Alairic and Tilliana. Tilliana tried to duck out of the way and strike at the man at the same time, but a falling piece of wood struck her head and shoulder and her aim was thrown off. Alairic however fared better and rolling out of the way of the falling ceiling, he swung again, cleaving another hole in their attacker. With a gurgle the man collapsed to the ground, dying.
Niccolo chose that moment to rush into the building, followed by two watchmen.
“You missed it,” said Alairic with a grin.
Niccolo, realizing that Griffin One-hand was not dead, rushed to administer first aid. “Perhaps he can talk,” he explained.
The others looked around the room. The two windows in the room had been painted black. Next to the door, six objects had been nailed to the wall. Looking at them, they realized they were human hearts.
“I don’t think there’s any doubt but this is our man,” said one of the watchmen, “There’s six hearts and if that ain’t evidence I don’t know what is.”
Above, two gnomes looked down through the hole in their floor at the strange scene.
Meanwhile Tilliana was starting to feel pain. Her muscles were sore and she was having some trouble moving. It appeared that the bolt that had hit her had been poisoned.
Examining the still unconscious Griffin, they turned up a vial of something that did indeed appear to be poison. He also had a quality dagger, made all the more striking by the pink pearl in the hilt.
“You can keep that,” said one of the watchmen generously as he helped Griffin to his feet. He was barely conscious and it did not look like he was up to speaking.
“We’ll take him to holding and you all can come and question him at your leisure when he has a bit more strength. You done good here. Go ahead and look around if you want while we haul him off. There might be something here.”
As the guards hauled Griffin away, Tilliana handed the fragment of paper to the other two to read.
“He was a nut,” was Alairic’s conclusion.
“He didn’t write the letter,” said Tilliana, “It was signed with a T, not a G.”
“Who did write it then?”
“Another tax-collector,” said Tilliana.
Looking around, they discovered a chest under the bed. Niccolo split it open with his great-ax, revealing about 300 gold coins. They took the gold coins and some of the weapons off of the wall. They also, not being able to tell which heart was which, took all six hearts with them.
Roalee was able to use divine spells to ascertain the right heart and once she knew this, Goetai was raised from the dead. It was a rare event in Xaarum and the whole city rejoiced at the success of the three heroes in bringing Griffin to justice.
Unfortunately they were unable to question Griffin. He never made it to a cell. A drunken man had bumped into the watchmen escorting Griffin to jail. In the ensuing mishap, possibly thanks to the mud, the drunk, Griffin, and one of the watchmen had fallen to the ground. By the time the watchmen realized they could not get Griffin to stand because he was good and dead, it was too late, the drunk had disappeared.
Tilliana, Niccolo and Alairic decided to split the 300 gold coins they had found in Griffins room among the families of the bereaved. Kaliou had no family and so they gave the 50 gold pieces to the watchman’s guild in his honor. Likewise Amoot the beggar had no family. They finally decided to buy 50 gold pieces worth of candy and distribute it to all the children of Xaarum in his honor. Many kids, as a result, developed tummy-aches, but there was no doubt that for a moment anyhow, the three companions were heroes of all.
Wicht
Hero
Letters
Letters
Zailoo,
To Tilliana, Defender of the Swift Sword
I am very proud of you and I know your father would be as well. Before your father left, he entrusted me with this amulet and now, knowing where you are heading, I entrust it to you as well. It is originally a key, but I have always felt it was something of a good luck charm as well. Wear it with you and I will feel safer.
I never told you a lot about the area in which you were born. It brought back to many painful memories. I do not know how much you remember of the area. It was near a stream among a series of small hills. There was an old cemetery and nearby a cavern that led to foul underground tunnels. If you head north from Geanavue you should find it nestled in the foothills.
Your father and his companions spent many years clearing the area in those parts of foul monsters and undead horrors. The cemetery was originally a part of an older, evil temple and it was upon the ruins of that temple that your father had a temple to Naemae built. He dreamt of establishing a more permanent settlement in what was a lawless area. So safe did he and his friends make and maintain the area that there were two villages built within a mile of his outpost temple, entirely because of his efforts. My family had moved into the area from Geanavue and you know you still have two aunts and an uncle in or around the city there. They might be happy to see you if you get the chance to visit. I met your father soon after and we were married and your brother and you were born. You know all that already.
What I have not told you, is that part of the reason we left was that without your father to offer protection, the temple he had built was not safe. Undead soon appeared again in the cemetery and monsters once more came to the cavern east of the temple. I fled first to the village where my family lived but it was not safe there and the evil grew. That is why I came here. My own father died trying to protect us from goblins and the villages were forced to disband and move southward where the Fists of Geanavue could offer more protection.
If you find the temple your father built, chances are it is no longer a holy place. But seek the crypt that lies below and there you will find a lock. I will say no more for I know that you will find a bit of a mystery more intriguing. I will offer many prayers for your safety but you do your part and use your head.
Letters
Zailoo,
To Tilliana, Defender of the Swift Sword
I am very proud of you and I know your father would be as well. Before your father left, he entrusted me with this amulet and now, knowing where you are heading, I entrust it to you as well. It is originally a key, but I have always felt it was something of a good luck charm as well. Wear it with you and I will feel safer.
I never told you a lot about the area in which you were born. It brought back to many painful memories. I do not know how much you remember of the area. It was near a stream among a series of small hills. There was an old cemetery and nearby a cavern that led to foul underground tunnels. If you head north from Geanavue you should find it nestled in the foothills.
Your father and his companions spent many years clearing the area in those parts of foul monsters and undead horrors. The cemetery was originally a part of an older, evil temple and it was upon the ruins of that temple that your father had a temple to Naemae built. He dreamt of establishing a more permanent settlement in what was a lawless area. So safe did he and his friends make and maintain the area that there were two villages built within a mile of his outpost temple, entirely because of his efforts. My family had moved into the area from Geanavue and you know you still have two aunts and an uncle in or around the city there. They might be happy to see you if you get the chance to visit. I met your father soon after and we were married and your brother and you were born. You know all that already.
What I have not told you, is that part of the reason we left was that without your father to offer protection, the temple he had built was not safe. Undead soon appeared again in the cemetery and monsters once more came to the cavern east of the temple. I fled first to the village where my family lived but it was not safe there and the evil grew. That is why I came here. My own father died trying to protect us from goblins and the villages were forced to disband and move southward where the Fists of Geanavue could offer more protection.
If you find the temple your father built, chances are it is no longer a holy place. But seek the crypt that lies below and there you will find a lock. I will say no more for I know that you will find a bit of a mystery more intriguing. I will offer many prayers for your safety but you do your part and use your head.
Wicht
Hero
Chapter 15 - Xaarum
Alairic woke with a start. He had been dreaming, but the dream had felt more like a vision than a true illusion of the mind. As he sat in bed, Alairic considered. Then he smiled and quickly got out of bed. With determination, he dressed himself and then left the Citadel of Truth. Before the sun had risen in the sky he was out of the city.
He had been discussing horses with Niccolo and Tilliana the day before. A shipment of warhorses was expected in from Zoa and they had considered buying some. But Tilliana and the half-elf would have to go horse shopping without him. He had seen a horse in his dream and he thought he knew where to find it.
After walking for thirty minutes or so he found himself in a field. The sun was rising over the horizon and it was just as he had pictured it in his sleep. With a simple smile he sat on the dewy grass of the field to wait for the horse he was certain would soon be there. He pulled his copy of “To Serve” out of his backpack and began to read. It was a perfect spot to study, meditate upon the words and pray.
The horse showed up about an hour later. It was a pure white stallion, unharnessed and unshod.
“Hi,” said Alairic to the horse. It seemed natural to do so. The horse snorted a greeting and trotting to Alairic it nosed his cheek and then looked at the open book.
“Just studying,” said Alairic, “Did Naemae send you? You look like a beautiful horse.”
The horse blew firmly and took a step back.
“Handsome then,” said Alairic with a laugh, closing the book and standing up, “But what shall we call you? I saw you in a vision. Vision,…? Dream,…?”
“You don’t like those? Don’t worry, I will think of something?”
“This is Trance,” said Alairic to Tilliana and Niccolo later when he caught up with them in Xaarum. They had also obtained horses, though in a more conventional manner. They had each bought a trained highland dancer, graceful horses from Svimohzia. Tilliana’s, a soft white mare with light brown spots on its rear legs, was named Prancer. She was an energetic animal, who, the dealer had said, had a fondness for apples. Niccolo had named his Spirit. It was an ash colored horse with a bit of a stubborn streak. Tilliana had also bought an older warhorse to use as a pack animal. Her name was Firebolt and she walked with a limp. But she also was built tall and solid and could doubtlessly carry a heavy load.
The next few days were spent preparing to leave Xaarum. Deochoo had accepted Tilliana’s decision to head to the area north of Geanavue and had explained to her exactly what was expected.
“There has not been a located priest of Naemae in that area since your father was killed. I fear it has again become a lawless and evil place, but you will soon know for certain. Your job is threefold. First you are to find the site of your father’s old temple. You are secondly to rebuild the faith of the Swift Sword in the area through actions of chilvary and bravery. Finally, if possible, establish a foothold for the faith in Geanavue. It is shameful that there is no temple to the Evil Slayer in such a noble city. They are beset by peril on nearly every hand, an island of peace in a hostile world.”
Deochoo had also decided to send Alairic with Tilliana. When Niccolo had approached Deochoo about being allowed to go with the other two, Deochoo had smiled and answered, “I had assumed as much already.”
“Good,” said Niccolo, “It would seem a shame to break up a winning team.”
Niccolo was little seen in the three days following this meeting. He went out of the city each morning to roam the Forest. The first day he returned with a wolf. People in Xaarum looked at it somewhat askance but it did not attack anyone and followed Niccolo almost like a dog. It had white forepaws and a dark brown coat and Niccolo named it Two-Socks. The next evening he returned with an eagle and they day after that with another eagle. He named them Hunter and Feather Grace.
It was Tilliana who first broached the subject of Alairic’s family with him. She and Niccolo had both read the last letter from Alairic’s mother and knew that Alairic had wanted to send the money to buy their freedom. But he had not done so.
“Where you going to send money to Zoa?” she asked him at dinner one evening.
“Not right away,” said Alairic.
“Why not?”
“I am going to do it later,” protested the paladin.
Niccolo, listening in, got perturbed. “But this is your family. Surely there is no reason to wait. You have the money, buy their freedom.”
“I have to wait. I don’t have quite enough anymore.” Said Alairic sulkily.
“Oh, well I was planning on helping you anyway,” said Tilliana understanding. They had each had about 1500 golden coins in treasure when they had returned from Dragon Isle. Much to Deochoo’s delight, they had also contributed 500 gold pieces apiece to the Citadel as soon as they had returned. Added to this, Alairic had bought new armor and, as had Tilliana and Niccolo, paid an armorer, in advance, to make some barding for his horse. Alairic no longer had 1000 gold coins, which was the sum his father had calculated as necessary to buy the entire families freedom.
“I was going to help as well,” said Niccolo. They each gave Alairic 200 gold pieces and in turn Alairic made arrangements with Deochoo to send the money to the temple in Zoa for the purposes of buying his family out of slavery.
It was the 4th of Mustering before the armor for the three horses was finished. That day they made their final preparations to leave Xaarum. Their plan was to head north to Foorun and see if they could find a ship sailing to Loona. Kinshag showed up that day. He had been busily spending his money. He too had bought a horse, a great brute from the north. He had also bought new armor, a new ax and expensive equipment for his horse. He was, he claimed, planning on going with them. They couldn’t think of a good reason for him not to come and so their party was at four once more.
The next morning it was cold and cloudy as they left the Citadel of Truth and headed for the northern gate of Xaarum. Deochoo walked with them to the gate, as did Tilliana’s mother.
“Do you have any questions?” Deochoo asked Tilliana one last time.
“No, I think I got it,” said the priestess.
“Good.”
At the gate, Zailoo gave her daughter one last hug and handed her a small package. It contained a note and an amulet.
“Read the note later,” said Zailoo with a smile, “good luck and be careful.”
Alairic woke with a start. He had been dreaming, but the dream had felt more like a vision than a true illusion of the mind. As he sat in bed, Alairic considered. Then he smiled and quickly got out of bed. With determination, he dressed himself and then left the Citadel of Truth. Before the sun had risen in the sky he was out of the city.
He had been discussing horses with Niccolo and Tilliana the day before. A shipment of warhorses was expected in from Zoa and they had considered buying some. But Tilliana and the half-elf would have to go horse shopping without him. He had seen a horse in his dream and he thought he knew where to find it.
After walking for thirty minutes or so he found himself in a field. The sun was rising over the horizon and it was just as he had pictured it in his sleep. With a simple smile he sat on the dewy grass of the field to wait for the horse he was certain would soon be there. He pulled his copy of “To Serve” out of his backpack and began to read. It was a perfect spot to study, meditate upon the words and pray.
The horse showed up about an hour later. It was a pure white stallion, unharnessed and unshod.
“Hi,” said Alairic to the horse. It seemed natural to do so. The horse snorted a greeting and trotting to Alairic it nosed his cheek and then looked at the open book.
“Just studying,” said Alairic, “Did Naemae send you? You look like a beautiful horse.”
The horse blew firmly and took a step back.
“Handsome then,” said Alairic with a laugh, closing the book and standing up, “But what shall we call you? I saw you in a vision. Vision,…? Dream,…?”
“You don’t like those? Don’t worry, I will think of something?”
“This is Trance,” said Alairic to Tilliana and Niccolo later when he caught up with them in Xaarum. They had also obtained horses, though in a more conventional manner. They had each bought a trained highland dancer, graceful horses from Svimohzia. Tilliana’s, a soft white mare with light brown spots on its rear legs, was named Prancer. She was an energetic animal, who, the dealer had said, had a fondness for apples. Niccolo had named his Spirit. It was an ash colored horse with a bit of a stubborn streak. Tilliana had also bought an older warhorse to use as a pack animal. Her name was Firebolt and she walked with a limp. But she also was built tall and solid and could doubtlessly carry a heavy load.
The next few days were spent preparing to leave Xaarum. Deochoo had accepted Tilliana’s decision to head to the area north of Geanavue and had explained to her exactly what was expected.
“There has not been a located priest of Naemae in that area since your father was killed. I fear it has again become a lawless and evil place, but you will soon know for certain. Your job is threefold. First you are to find the site of your father’s old temple. You are secondly to rebuild the faith of the Swift Sword in the area through actions of chilvary and bravery. Finally, if possible, establish a foothold for the faith in Geanavue. It is shameful that there is no temple to the Evil Slayer in such a noble city. They are beset by peril on nearly every hand, an island of peace in a hostile world.”
Deochoo had also decided to send Alairic with Tilliana. When Niccolo had approached Deochoo about being allowed to go with the other two, Deochoo had smiled and answered, “I had assumed as much already.”
“Good,” said Niccolo, “It would seem a shame to break up a winning team.”
Niccolo was little seen in the three days following this meeting. He went out of the city each morning to roam the Forest. The first day he returned with a wolf. People in Xaarum looked at it somewhat askance but it did not attack anyone and followed Niccolo almost like a dog. It had white forepaws and a dark brown coat and Niccolo named it Two-Socks. The next evening he returned with an eagle and they day after that with another eagle. He named them Hunter and Feather Grace.
It was Tilliana who first broached the subject of Alairic’s family with him. She and Niccolo had both read the last letter from Alairic’s mother and knew that Alairic had wanted to send the money to buy their freedom. But he had not done so.
“Where you going to send money to Zoa?” she asked him at dinner one evening.
“Not right away,” said Alairic.
“Why not?”
“I am going to do it later,” protested the paladin.
Niccolo, listening in, got perturbed. “But this is your family. Surely there is no reason to wait. You have the money, buy their freedom.”
“I have to wait. I don’t have quite enough anymore.” Said Alairic sulkily.
“Oh, well I was planning on helping you anyway,” said Tilliana understanding. They had each had about 1500 golden coins in treasure when they had returned from Dragon Isle. Much to Deochoo’s delight, they had also contributed 500 gold pieces apiece to the Citadel as soon as they had returned. Added to this, Alairic had bought new armor and, as had Tilliana and Niccolo, paid an armorer, in advance, to make some barding for his horse. Alairic no longer had 1000 gold coins, which was the sum his father had calculated as necessary to buy the entire families freedom.
“I was going to help as well,” said Niccolo. They each gave Alairic 200 gold pieces and in turn Alairic made arrangements with Deochoo to send the money to the temple in Zoa for the purposes of buying his family out of slavery.
It was the 4th of Mustering before the armor for the three horses was finished. That day they made their final preparations to leave Xaarum. Their plan was to head north to Foorun and see if they could find a ship sailing to Loona. Kinshag showed up that day. He had been busily spending his money. He too had bought a horse, a great brute from the north. He had also bought new armor, a new ax and expensive equipment for his horse. He was, he claimed, planning on going with them. They couldn’t think of a good reason for him not to come and so their party was at four once more.
The next morning it was cold and cloudy as they left the Citadel of Truth and headed for the northern gate of Xaarum. Deochoo walked with them to the gate, as did Tilliana’s mother.
“Do you have any questions?” Deochoo asked Tilliana one last time.
“No, I think I got it,” said the priestess.
“Good.”
At the gate, Zailoo gave her daughter one last hug and handed her a small package. It contained a note and an amulet.
“Read the note later,” said Zailoo with a smile, “good luck and be careful.”