Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks for the bump, GPECKO.
200 posts and >5000 views... thanks to all my readers for the support that they've given this story.
Another Dungeon came yesterday, but no Adventure Path installment this time. Since I'm already two modules behind, I don't foresee that becoming a problem...
* * * * *
Chapter 65
“The truth!” a voice rang out, from the back of the tavern. “And a tale both wonderful and terrible it is!” The attention of everyone swiveled around as Dannel Ardan strode boldly into the tavern, his cloak flaring out behind him as he moved. The elf strode boldly up to an empty chair, and vaulted up onto it, staring out over the gathered crowd.
“I have heard the tale told from one who was there,” Dannel said. “Fighting against the forces of darkness that threatened our town!”
Annah tried to interject, but the crowd’s attention had shifted. Dannel did not hesitate, telling the tale of the battle against Kazmojen in a rapid-fire of descriptive narrative. All of them were present in the telling; herself, Mole, Arun, Ruphos, Fario, Fellian... even the rakish Kryscar Endercott, whose role was elevated into a brave and hopeless charge against the howler in Dannel’s telling. The beholder was not mentioned, but every other aspect of the battle was true to Zenna’s memory of those desperate minutes. His hands moved and cut with each sword-thrust, and when he described the heroic sacrifice of Ruphos to save Arun’s life, Zenna felt tears gather in her eyes. When he was done, and described the final cut that downed Kazmojen, a rousing cry went up from the gathered people.
“And so we do owe thanks to these brave people, my friends,” Dannel concluded, stepping down from the chair and grabbing an untended flagon. “To the heroes of Cauldron,” he said, lifting his drink.
“To the heroes!” came the cry.
Dannel drank deeply, then left the flagon and walked over to the companions. As he walked past the Stormblades, he seemed oblivious to the hostility barely disguised in their expressions.
“That was quite a timely arrival, Dannel,” Mole whispered.
The Stormblades looked to Annah. “A rousing story, elf,” she said, with the slightest nod. Zenna thought that the look in her eyes could cut glass. “Perhaps we will meet again, ‘heroes,’” she said. Then she turned and departed, the others following.
In their wake, the activity in the tavern returned to more or less normal.
“I think it might be prudent to depart now,” Dannel suggested.
“An excellent suggestion,” Zenna said, rising. They headed for the back exit that led to Zenna and Mole’s room above the adjunct building behind the Morkoth. Arun was the last to follow, the dwarf slowly unlocking his fists and his anger before turning to join his companions.
“Wow, I thought that we were going to have a brawl for sure,” Mole said, as they left the main building of the inn. Zenna thought she sounded a bit disappointed.
“What was that all about?” Zenna asked. “Who were those guys?”
“They’re a local adventuring company,” Dannel explained. “I haven’t heard that much about them, but from what I understand they’re all the children of local nobility.”
“Noble brats,” Arun commented.
“But why would they want to pick a fight with us?” Zenna asked, as they made their way into the long building that the inn used for storage and as quarters for a number of its staff. Mole and Zenna had been renting out one of the rooms at the end of the second story for a while now. While they could now afford something a bit more... comfortable, Zenna found that she didn’t mind the proximity to both the excitement of the inn and the main boulevards of the town.
“Maybe they’re just envious that you’ve stolen the spotlight,” the elf suggested. “Or maybe one of you did something to tick them off, without realizing it.”
“Well, if they come looking for trouble again, we’ll just sic Arun on them,” Mole said, unlocking the door to their room and ushering them inside. The room wasn’t large, with barely enough room to accommodate the four of them. There were only two chairs, so Mole leapt up onto one of the beds while Dannel remained standing by the door. Zenna lit the lantern hanging from a nail hammered into the slanting ceiling, and took the seat by the desk before the room’s sole window.
“Comfy,” the elf observed.
“Oh, I’ve got some treasure for you, Dannel,” Mole said, placing her haversack on the nightstand beside her bed.
“We were wondering where you’d gotten off to,” Zenna said.
“Out and about,” the elf responded. “Actually, I’ve been asking some questions, about our ‘friend.’”
Zenna nodded. She knew who the elf was talking about.
“The cleric,” Arun growled.
“Any luck?” Mole asked, tucking a pillow between her back and the wall to make herself more comfortable.
“Well, my subtle queries didn’t lead anywhere,” Dannel reported. “But I guess they prodded something loose, for this morning I found this slid under my door.”
The elf produced a small, neatly folded scrap of parchment. With her curiosity, Mole was the first to reach him, and she took it, unfolding it and moving over to where the lantern’s light was bright enough to read by.
“I know you’re looking for the wands,” Mole read. “I can help, for a price. If you’re interested, come to the Lakeside Pavillion tonight at midnight. Bring 500 gold pieces and you’ll walk away with the location of the wands. Bring backup, and you’ll never find them.”
There was a moment of silence, as Mole finished reading. Zenna finally broke the silence with a single word.
“Well.”
“Trap,” Arun said.
“No doubt it could be,” Zenna noted. “Especially since that cleric has likely heard of our interest by now, and the identity of those who slew her raiders at the Lucky Monkey.”
“The same thought occurred to me,” Dannel said. “But it is the best... the only, lead we have thus far. I take it that the Helmites have not been able to come up with anything?”
Zenna shook her head. “No, though I have not spoken to Jenya or Illewyn since the day before yesterday.”
“So you want to meet with this guy?” Mole asked. “Tonight? We’d better start getting ready, it’s already starting to get dark.”
“The message says that the... individual... will only make an appearance if I come alone.”
“If you’d intended to go alone, you would have just gone and done it, and maybe told us afterwards,” Zenna said wryly. “You don’t strike me as the sort of man who asks for permission—for anything.”
Dannel cracked an irreverent grin. “Am I that transparent, then?”
“So what’s you’re plan then, elf?” Arun growled, clearly impatient.
“Well, obviously I intend to meet with him; we should be able to get the Helmites to cover the cost of the information, if the informant turns out to be legitimate.”
“And if he’s not, and it is a trap?” Zenna asked.
“Well then...”
He didn’t get a chance to finish, for at that moment a sudden, clear knock sounded at the door to the room.
200 posts and >5000 views... thanks to all my readers for the support that they've given this story.
Another Dungeon came yesterday, but no Adventure Path installment this time. Since I'm already two modules behind, I don't foresee that becoming a problem...

* * * * *
Chapter 65
“The truth!” a voice rang out, from the back of the tavern. “And a tale both wonderful and terrible it is!” The attention of everyone swiveled around as Dannel Ardan strode boldly into the tavern, his cloak flaring out behind him as he moved. The elf strode boldly up to an empty chair, and vaulted up onto it, staring out over the gathered crowd.
“I have heard the tale told from one who was there,” Dannel said. “Fighting against the forces of darkness that threatened our town!”
Annah tried to interject, but the crowd’s attention had shifted. Dannel did not hesitate, telling the tale of the battle against Kazmojen in a rapid-fire of descriptive narrative. All of them were present in the telling; herself, Mole, Arun, Ruphos, Fario, Fellian... even the rakish Kryscar Endercott, whose role was elevated into a brave and hopeless charge against the howler in Dannel’s telling. The beholder was not mentioned, but every other aspect of the battle was true to Zenna’s memory of those desperate minutes. His hands moved and cut with each sword-thrust, and when he described the heroic sacrifice of Ruphos to save Arun’s life, Zenna felt tears gather in her eyes. When he was done, and described the final cut that downed Kazmojen, a rousing cry went up from the gathered people.
“And so we do owe thanks to these brave people, my friends,” Dannel concluded, stepping down from the chair and grabbing an untended flagon. “To the heroes of Cauldron,” he said, lifting his drink.
“To the heroes!” came the cry.
Dannel drank deeply, then left the flagon and walked over to the companions. As he walked past the Stormblades, he seemed oblivious to the hostility barely disguised in their expressions.
“That was quite a timely arrival, Dannel,” Mole whispered.
The Stormblades looked to Annah. “A rousing story, elf,” she said, with the slightest nod. Zenna thought that the look in her eyes could cut glass. “Perhaps we will meet again, ‘heroes,’” she said. Then she turned and departed, the others following.
In their wake, the activity in the tavern returned to more or less normal.
“I think it might be prudent to depart now,” Dannel suggested.
“An excellent suggestion,” Zenna said, rising. They headed for the back exit that led to Zenna and Mole’s room above the adjunct building behind the Morkoth. Arun was the last to follow, the dwarf slowly unlocking his fists and his anger before turning to join his companions.
“Wow, I thought that we were going to have a brawl for sure,” Mole said, as they left the main building of the inn. Zenna thought she sounded a bit disappointed.
“What was that all about?” Zenna asked. “Who were those guys?”
“They’re a local adventuring company,” Dannel explained. “I haven’t heard that much about them, but from what I understand they’re all the children of local nobility.”
“Noble brats,” Arun commented.
“But why would they want to pick a fight with us?” Zenna asked, as they made their way into the long building that the inn used for storage and as quarters for a number of its staff. Mole and Zenna had been renting out one of the rooms at the end of the second story for a while now. While they could now afford something a bit more... comfortable, Zenna found that she didn’t mind the proximity to both the excitement of the inn and the main boulevards of the town.
“Maybe they’re just envious that you’ve stolen the spotlight,” the elf suggested. “Or maybe one of you did something to tick them off, without realizing it.”
“Well, if they come looking for trouble again, we’ll just sic Arun on them,” Mole said, unlocking the door to their room and ushering them inside. The room wasn’t large, with barely enough room to accommodate the four of them. There were only two chairs, so Mole leapt up onto one of the beds while Dannel remained standing by the door. Zenna lit the lantern hanging from a nail hammered into the slanting ceiling, and took the seat by the desk before the room’s sole window.
“Comfy,” the elf observed.
“Oh, I’ve got some treasure for you, Dannel,” Mole said, placing her haversack on the nightstand beside her bed.
“We were wondering where you’d gotten off to,” Zenna said.
“Out and about,” the elf responded. “Actually, I’ve been asking some questions, about our ‘friend.’”
Zenna nodded. She knew who the elf was talking about.
“The cleric,” Arun growled.
“Any luck?” Mole asked, tucking a pillow between her back and the wall to make herself more comfortable.
“Well, my subtle queries didn’t lead anywhere,” Dannel reported. “But I guess they prodded something loose, for this morning I found this slid under my door.”
The elf produced a small, neatly folded scrap of parchment. With her curiosity, Mole was the first to reach him, and she took it, unfolding it and moving over to where the lantern’s light was bright enough to read by.
“I know you’re looking for the wands,” Mole read. “I can help, for a price. If you’re interested, come to the Lakeside Pavillion tonight at midnight. Bring 500 gold pieces and you’ll walk away with the location of the wands. Bring backup, and you’ll never find them.”
There was a moment of silence, as Mole finished reading. Zenna finally broke the silence with a single word.
“Well.”
“Trap,” Arun said.
“No doubt it could be,” Zenna noted. “Especially since that cleric has likely heard of our interest by now, and the identity of those who slew her raiders at the Lucky Monkey.”
“The same thought occurred to me,” Dannel said. “But it is the best... the only, lead we have thus far. I take it that the Helmites have not been able to come up with anything?”
Zenna shook her head. “No, though I have not spoken to Jenya or Illewyn since the day before yesterday.”
“So you want to meet with this guy?” Mole asked. “Tonight? We’d better start getting ready, it’s already starting to get dark.”
“The message says that the... individual... will only make an appearance if I come alone.”
“If you’d intended to go alone, you would have just gone and done it, and maybe told us afterwards,” Zenna said wryly. “You don’t strike me as the sort of man who asks for permission—for anything.”
Dannel cracked an irreverent grin. “Am I that transparent, then?”
“So what’s you’re plan then, elf?” Arun growled, clearly impatient.
“Well, obviously I intend to meet with him; we should be able to get the Helmites to cover the cost of the information, if the informant turns out to be legitimate.”
“And if he’s not, and it is a trap?” Zenna asked.
“Well then...”
He didn’t get a chance to finish, for at that moment a sudden, clear knock sounded at the door to the room.