Spirits of Aksaray

[Pielorinho]

Hi, folks! I started a story hour many months ago and dropped it. Rather than reconstruct those first dozen or so sessions, I'm gonna pick up the story hour at the beginning of the latest story arc. First I'll have a prologue; the footnotes explain a lot of the peculiarities of my world and of the PCs. Then we'll jump into the action.

(Well, that's an exagerration. My campaign is relatively low-combat; there's no real action until the seventh post in this thread. So skip down there if you want blood & guts.)

Note that the first story arc is a highly tweaked version of Speaker in Dreams, and will contain spoilers for that adventure; don't read it if you want to avoid spoilers!

And with that....

 

[Pielorinho]

Prologue

It was two days after Midsummer’s Night, and the Night Watch (1) were leaving their city behind.

Afet (2) occasionally looked back at Manzikert (3) and heaved a great sigh. Fifteen years ago, she’d been born there to a noble family; last year, she’d been married to one of the city’s wealthiest merchants. Six months ago, she’d discovered the ability to speak with spirits (4). Four months ago, her daughter was born – and four days ago, her husband had revealed himself to be a foul devotee of Dehakka (5).

Lum Krumma (6) never looked back. Her mother may have been from Manzikert, but Lum was not: she was born in the High Country (7), in a tribe of ghuls (8), a proud warrior-race. Her mother had brought the wisdom and protection of Mithras (9) to the tribe, and after her death, Lum had led a delegation of ghuls down from the High Country, down to Manzikert, to make peace with their traditional enemies. But her tribesmates had been slaughtered by humans, their bodies defiled, their organs sold in the marketplace as medicines and aphrodisiacs.

Heluk (10) was, frankly, relieved to be on the road again. His family may run the most successful cattle markets in Manzikert, putting beef on the tables of a thousand caravanserai, but he wasn’t cut out for a life of numbers and trading. No, he found his calling in the work of a bodyguard, and though it may cause his family shame to see their brightest child leave the family business, he would gladly suffer the shame if he could escape the city’s sanctimonious air.

Of all of them, Korythis (11) was the least willing to leave. Three weeks ago, the Peiriti’s (12) cousin had been murdered in a blackmail plot gone horribly wrong. The murderers had all been caught by her new friends – all except their leader, a ruthless enchantress named Zihni. Korythis had joined with Jago (13), one of the companions, to track down the enchantress, her Peiriti legs well matched to his Kabokeran (14) strides. Tragically, Zihni learned that she was being followed, and with a single poisoned crossbow bolt assassinated Jago. Korythis joined the group to seek vengeance for both murders.

But now the group was unwelcome in Manzikert. They had uncovered the plans of the Golden Masks, a demon-worshipping cult that sought to overthrow the city’s merchant council and reinstate the old order of nobles. They had destroyed a bestial nightclub the cult operated to earn funds and gain recruits. They had stopped a restaurant (owned by Afet’s husband) from serving human flesh to its diners, in an attempt to turn them into cannibals.

And one stormy evening they had confronted the bulk of the cult in a ship off of Manzikert’s coast. They arrived too late to save the ship’s crew from being turned into cannibal undead, but they destroyed the cultists and set the ship ablaze before fleeing for land through sheets of rain and terrible waves.

But then they’d made their mistake: they’d underestimated the corruption of the Shields, the city’s guards. The guards launched a cursory investigation of Afet’s husband – and then, on his advice, launched a hunt for the companions, wanting to arrest them for cult activities. Understanding too late that Afet’s husband had purchased the guard, they fled town on foot.

Manalapan (15) offered relative safety: an artisan’s fair would start there next week. And perhaps they could follow up on a note they’d found among a cultist’s documents, a note directing him to bring supplies to a hillside outside of Manalapan.

The sun beat down on the travelers as they walked the dusty road South from Manalapan.

NOTES:
1) The party eventually named themselves the Night Watch, since they were regularly and nocturnally protecting the city from foes the city guard was too apathetic to fight.
2) Afet (a Turkish name meaning “Catastrophically Beautiful): a human sorceress with a 19 charisma, an 8 wisdom, and all that could possibly entail.
3) Manzikert is a metropolis of more than a hundred thousand people, and is the focal point of trade for many surrounding kingdoms.
4) All magic in Aksaray (the campaign world) is worked through bargaining with spirits. Sorcerers have a few spirits they’ve befriended; wizards learn traditional bargains with (or bindings of) spirits; and divine casters serve one specific and powerful spirit.
5) One of these powerful spirits is Dehakka, a god of lies and vengeance, symbolized by a scorpion.
6) Lum Krumma: a ghulkin (think half-orc, mostly) female cleric of Mithras with a big fat chip on her shoulder. After all, her ghul friends were slaughtered by these barbaric humans.
7) The High Country is the land of spirits, and of Ghuls and Peiriti and Djinn and other races. Impermanent gates between the High Country and the Low Country constantly appear across the land. Two gates twenty feet apart in the Low Country may lead to destinations two thousand miles apart in the High Country.
8) When you see “ghul”, think “orc”, except for a few differences. Ghuls are master navigators of the gates between high and low country, and have traditionally launched lightning and deadly raids through the gates, disappearing before humans can respond. Ghulkin – half ghul, half human – have a lesser ability to sense the presence and destination of a gate. In recent decades, these raids have almost completely stopped.
9) Mithras was once the patron deity of Manzikert, but as the nobility lost power, so did Mithras. He is a god of war and protection and friendship and loyalty, kind of a cross between Pelor and Heironeous.
10) Heluk: a human male ranger/barbarian. Quiet most of the time, but deadly with an axe. Doesn’t appreciate anyone, least of all the city guard or his uncle or other city leaders, telling him what to do.
11) Korythis: Peiriti female wizard. Wizards aren’t trusted, generally – wizardry is considered dark, enslaving magic by those who don’t understand it. She keeps quiet about it.
12) Peiriti are essentially gnomes. They’re nature spirits from the High Country, and are typically enslaved there by cruel Djinn masters; many of the Peiriti who escape to the Low Country sell themselves into the comparatively kinder slavery that humans practice.
13) Jago: A Kabokeran rogue/sorcerer. Another character with family issues: his family were devoutly religious, and didn’t hold with arcane magics of any sort. Once he discovered his ability to speak with spirits, he ditched them and became involved in Manzikert’s seedy underlife.
14) Kabokerans: essentially halflings; their name means “Wreathed in Fire”, and they regard themselves as the Chosen Ones of Ormazd, the AllFather god of whom all other deities are simply fragments. They live on islands to the North.
15) Manalapan: an artsy city to the South. You’ll see it soon.

 

[el-remmen]

w00t!

 

[Pielorinho]

Thanks, Nem -- I was just getting ready to go post on the RBC that I'd started the story hour back up, but you beat me to noticing it!

I appreciate the inspiration, and will try to get caught up, once I can remember how those sessions went.

Daniel

 

[Pielorinho]

Welcome to Manalapan

The Night Watch was still a few days away from Manalapan when Lum called for a halt. Before their mad flight from Manzikert, she’d asked Korythis to help her procure a few items from the city’s mammoth bizarre: the skin of a dominda beast; fresh leaves of an ancient betelnut tree; spidersilk thread; rose water distilled from roses of nine hues; and various other rare substances. Heluk taught the rest his companions how to hunt for rabbits and boar while Lum laboriously sewed the magical items into a mask.

Then she called for Afet’s assistance, and Afet spoke to her spirit companions. A chameleon spirit, who often helped Afet change her appearance, consented to nest part of his essence in the mask Lum had made for him. Lum, in turn, completed the mask by letting fall a drop of her soul into it, to feed the chameleon spirit.

On sunset of the second day, the mask was complete: when worn, it would give the wearer the ability to change her appearance. Lum would no longer need to travel through humans heavily cowled, would no longer need to fear discovery and execution.

Mithras, she hoped, wouldn’t object too strongly to the deception.

And one week after leaving Manzikert, the Night Watch found themselves in a long line outside the gates of Manalapan. A high wall surrounded the city, a relic of more troubling times in the past. Hawkers walked up and down the line of tourists selling grilled meats, olives, kilgari (16) coffee, almond pastries, and other delicacies. The line moved languid as the river that flowed past the city walls.

Finally they reached the city gate. Two guards greeted them with weary formality. Their chain shirts were covered in scarlet tabards. “Greetings good travelers would you grace us with your names.” they asked.

One by one, the Night Watch introduced themselves by the fake names they’d agreed on.

“Wonderful good travelers you are here for the fair.”

Yes, answered the companions.

“Please declare all your weapons and submit them to peacebonding (inhale) we can provide all necessary peacebonding equipment for a modest fee.”

The companions agreed to the peacebonding; after the chaotic, dangerous marketplaces of Manzikert, such concern for law and order was frankly refreshing.

Inside the walls, the city was a riot of sound and color. Firebreathers, bellydancers, jugglers, and musicians worked their way through the crowds, fighting for the attention and dinari (17) of the festivalgoers. More food vendors sold every conceivable variation of grease, honey, meat, and flour imaginable. Children ran shrieking behind the stalls, with parents chasing frantically behind.

The main draw, of course, was the craftwork. Manalapan is known throughout the world for its exquisite glassworks, and stall after stall reflected sunlight in wild mosaics of color across the faces of the crowd. Beadwork, mirrors, sculptures, goblets, even tiles for actual mosaics lined shelves and filled bins and fascinated patrons.

The companions wandered through the crowds for the better part of the morning. They passed a tavern, the Racing Badger, and inquired about rooms.

“Hah!” the barkeep laughed. “For next year, you mean? Dear guests, we’ve had no rooms since the craftsmen first began to arrive, a full two weeks ago! Still, perhaps a room will become free tonight; for but a single dinar, I will hold any such room for you.” The companions grudgingly paid the reservation fee, drank their coffee, and returned to the fair’s chaos.

A little ways further, they stopped to listen to a portly woman waving a sheet of parchment in the air. “Tours of the City of Glass!” she shouted to the crowd. “See the Wonders of our Lovely Home through the eyes of a local! You there, noble friends, have you been to this delightful fair before?” She walked over to the companions.

“I can’t say that I have,” Afet answered, and gestured around her. “It’s not always this crowded, is it?”

“Oh no, no,” the woman assured her. “In a week, the streets will go back to normal. But dear friends! For a paltry five dinari, I can show you the most wonderful sites in all Manalapan! I can tell you of the secret histories and legends that underlie our fair city! I can direct you toward any accommodations you may need! What say you, honored guests?”

“Sounds good,” said Heluk, and the companions took up a collection to pay the fee. Their tour began.

NOTES
16) Kilgari: Essentially elves. The kilgari of the mountains are in culture similar to Tibetan Buddhists: they live in quiet villages and tend to their goats. Their religion emphasizes their innate spiritual nature. The kilgari of the lowlands are unparalleled coffee growers, and the glitterati of Manzikert consider kilgari poetry and clothing to be the height of high culture.
17) Dinari: Gold Pieces. The standard money. Dehri are silver pieces.

 

[Pielorinho]

A Tour, A Legend, An Incident

The woman introduced herself as Hayal, and took the Night Watch through the city, starting in the neighborhood just to the South. “Pardon the smell,” she said; “The world’s finest glassmakers ply their craft along the banks of the Bindik river. These houses are not the friendliest to travelers, and let’s move on to West Hill.

“Here you’ll find more suitable accommodations – and have you yet discovered a place to stay in our city?”

The party told her of the arrangement at the Racing Badger, and she wrinkled her nose. “Oh, no. No, no, no, not for fine and noble people such as you. No, I shall take you to a far better inn when the tour is done – the Gold Veil. In fact, it’s just a few blocks up this way; if you’ll follow me, you can see it.”

The Gold Veil (whose name, the companions noted, was worrisomely close to the Golden Masks, their recent enemies) was a lovely, upscale inn, and Hayal quickly arranged for two rooms for her visitors. She then continued the tour.

And so on, through the city: past the libraries and jewerly shops of West Hill, past the mansions of Silver Hill, with their rococco topiary and silver-plated gates; past the Rais’ palace, guarded by men in crimson robes; past the Northern Gate, outside of which was a Peiriti encampment selling magical trinkets; past the Temple of Mithras (Lum promised to return there soon).

Outside the temple of Anahita (18), beautiful young women dressed in yellow and vermilion silks laughed and passed out pomegranate seeds to passersby. The temple itself was a gaudily ornate work, covered in mosaics of flowers and vines and with a dome worked to resemble a pomegranate. “You’ll notice, when we reach the Lover’s Tower, a similar design,” Hayal pointed out.

And so they did: four blocks away was a tall tower covered top to bottom in exquisite mosaics of flowering plants. And Hayal told them the story of the doomed lovers.

Nearly one hundred years ago, the rais’ (19) vizier fathered a girl whose beauty outshone the stars. The midwife wept at her birth, it is said, and despaired for the child’s fate; for this, the old woman was put to death. But her premonition proved true.

As she grew, the nobles of the city began to urge the vizier to marry her to them. But he grew jealous of her beauty, and declared that she would not marry yet.

His attention was focused on the greedy nobles, and so he did not see that his daughter had fallen in love with a servant from his household. They met in secret, and other servants conspired to hide the affair.

When the vizier finally learned of his daughter’s treachery, he was furious, and locked her in her quarters until he could find and kill the servant boy. The boy disappeared, however, and the vizier, in his paranoia, had built a tower in which to house his daughter away from the lusting eyes and hands of men.

But the vizier’s daughter despaired on her imprisonment, and day by day she grew weaker. Within a week of the tower’s completion, she died.

And then a curious thing happened: the vizier’s affairs began to fall prey to misfortune. His lands withered and died. Every bit of advice he gave the rais turned foul. Sickness assaulted his household.

Two years later, the vizier was in ruins, ejected from the rais’ favor and with nothing to his name save his barren estate. Rather than suffer the disgrace, he took his own life. His property, as did that of all suicides, reverted to the state.

And the next day a wealthy stranger arrived in town and purchased the tower from the rais for an exorbitant sum. He hired the city’s best artisans to decorate it as it is now decorated. An enchantment is laid on the tower so that the singing of a maiden flows from its height every noon and dusk.

With that, the stranger gifted the tower back to the city and disappeared. It is now known as the lover’s tower; none are allowed inside except for the groundskeeper.

Hayal ended her tour and thanked the travelers for their attention. Moments later, she was lost in the crowd.

The Night Watch decided to speak with the Peiriti who were encamped outside of town, and headed for the northern gate.

But as they walked that way, they heard a commotion ahead of them in the crowd. Screams, and crashing, and the clash of metal against metal. The throngs of the festival ran away from the screaming toward them.

They surged against the tide of the crowd to investigate.

NOTES
18) A Rais is roughly equivalent to a Mayor
19) Anahita: a goddess of love, beauty, and fertility. Her temples have both urban and agrarian aspects.

 

[Pielorinho]

Rat Bastards, Part I

Surging proved easier said than done: without pulling out an axe, it was difficult to get through the hordes of screaming tourists.

Lum eventually shouldered her way through the torrent, and Heluk took the cue from her. Within moments, they stood on the edge of a clearing in the crowd.

Oranges lay scattered across the road, and rats the size of housecats swarmed between them. A man lay face-down beneath an overturned cart, a pool of blood spread beneath him.

A figure rooted through the overturned cart, his back to the companions. In front of him stood two demons. Their build was human, but their faces were distended into a mockery of a rat’s face. Each held a strange weapon, a sword with an abnormally thin blade. On seeing the barbarian struggling to remove the cloth bag from the head of his axe, both the demons licked their blades and stepped forward. “Squim, we got company!” one chirped.

“Mithras, grant your supplicant strength!” Lum shouted, and her muscles bulged beneath her robe. She too began working her weapons free – but not before one of the rat-men stabbed her deeply with his strange blade. Heluk was also hit. The barbarian snarled and tore the bag free; with a tremendous backhand blow, he swung it straight at the ratman’s neck.

It was a solid hit, and nearly decapitated the demon – but when he pulled the blade back, the flesh healed like putty, and the wound was gone. Off to one side, a merchant tried frantically to beat a rat away from his cache of carved wooden toys; but the rat leapt onto the merchant’s arm, scrambled up to his throat, and latched on. The merchant collapsed to the ground screaming, reaching desperately for the vermin..

The figure digging through the cart turned around: another rat-demon. He snarled and joined the fight. One of the demons ducked under Heluk’s axe and stabbed him again in the side. The barbarian was nearly surrounded.

Lum, remembering that some demons were immune to normal weapons, called again on her patron. “Mithras, make this warrior’s axe shine with your holiness!” As he said this, Heluk let out a tremendous yell, and his face turned beet-red. He held the axe in both hands and swung it again.

This time, the ratman’s wound didn’t heal, and he fell silently to the ground. But the remaining two attacked again, and both their strikes fell true: their thin blades seemed highly maneuverable, and their tips struck flesh again and again.

Then a familiar voice began chanting from high overhead. Korythis, invible and flying, called to a whirlwind spirit – and Heluk saw the world around him shift into slow motion.

As a rat leapt at him, his axe became a blur, and two halves fell twitching to the ground. He turned with a snarl on the ratman called Squim and buried his axe in the demon’s thigh; his third blow was just barely dodged by the demon.

Lum, suspecting that her mace wouldn’t find purchase on the demonflesh, turned her attention to the rats around her. There were two remaining; a single swing, and only one was left.

One of the ratmen looked behind him, and then sprinted away, twisting out of the way of Lum’s haphazard blow. He dove beneath the cart of wooden toys. The other struck again at Heluk, who blocked every blow with supernatural speed.

Korythis flew invisible down to street level so that she could see beneath the toy cart, drawing a silver dagger from her belt as she flew. As she watched, the rat-demon’s clothes turned brown and sprouted fur; his body shrank, and his face elongated, until he was indistinguishable from the huge rats in the street.

Korythis looked at the rat’s fangs, and at her dagger, and back at the rat’s fangs, and decided that others could handle the fighting.

She was right: the one remaining rat-demon fought fiercely, but bit by bit Heluk was wearing him down. A rat climbed a cart near Lum and leapt onto her neck, but Lum was able to snatch it off. She hurled it to the ground and stomped on it, listening with satisfaction to the crunch of ribs.

With a final blow, Heluk hewed the last demon’s head from his shoulders. The foes were defeated or escaped. Unfortunately, so too were the fallen merchants.

And Afet struggled into the battle scene. “What happened here?” she said.

The companions explained the battle to her and asked the nearby merchants what had happened. The fruit seller had been speaking with three men when a figure stepped out of the crowd and threw a bucket of water on the men. Nobody got a good look at the figure, except to say that it wore a multicolored robe; for when the three men were splashed, they immediately turned into the rat demons. They drew weapons and attacked the fruit seller, and rats began swarming onto the scene, and

“You two! Drop your weapons!” A contingent of town guards, clothed in red tabards, stood at the edge of the clearing, their crossbows leveled at Lum and Heluk.

 

[Pielorinho]

Guards, and Gray Men, and Rat Tails

Lum and Heluk dropped their weapons and turned to face the guards.

“You two! Speak fast: what happened here?”

Lum stepped forward, but stopped as the crossbowmen thrust their weapons forward. “These men attacked an innocent merchant. We tried to defend him, but we were too late.”

“Don’t you know it’s a crime to have drawn weapons in the city?” one of the men demanded. Another glared sideways at him.

Heluk reached down for the burlap bag that had covered his axehead. “They were peacebonded, until this happened.” The guard who spoke first stepped forward and took the bag from him.

“Hmm…I think Ozgun’s going to want to hear about this. Baki, you go find him. Imran, check out his story with the witnesses. Mujde and I will guard them. You two aren’t under arrest, but you might be soon, so nothing funny from you! You, lad,” and he gestured to Afet, who was wearing the teenage-boy-disguise she’d come into town with, “Are you with them?” She nodded.

“Right then. Names, all of you.”

“Jan,” lied Heluk.

“Kadri,” lied Afet.

“Rizan,” lied Lum.

“Stay here. And you, all of you!” The guard gestured around to the merchants and fairgoers. “If you saw what happened, stay close until a Red speaks with you. Otherwise, be about your business!” Several of the spectators hurried away, including some that Lum was pretty sure had witnessed the attack.

The guards divided their attention between the merchants and the companions. While they waited, Lum went over to examine the bodies.

The rat-demons snarled a bestial smile in death, their blades clutched in clawed hands. Their clothes, simple laborers’ clothes, were indeed stained with water.

“It smells, I don’t know, HERBY,” said Korythis’ voice from near Lum’s shoulder. She spoke in a half-whisper, so that the guards couldn’t hear: they didn’t yet know she was there, and she saw no reason to drop her invisibility.

Lum didn’t turn around. “Is any of this magical?”

“I don’t know. Wait until the noise picks up, and I’ll call on the spirits.” In a few minutes, there was a burst of laughter and applause from down the street, and Korythis quickly called on her spirit sight. “His sword has a bee-spirit in it. And there’s some sort of spirit near his heart. I think maybe he’s got a pocket in there. Hold on….” The rat-demon’s tunic billowed out, as if in a sudden breeze, and then settled back down. “Yes. He had a pocket, and there was a scroll inside. I have it now. Should I get the sword?”

“No,” Lum said. “The guards might see.

“All right,” she said, and they all waited.

A quarter-hour later, two more guards came bustling up. One of them was Baki; the other was a stout, puffing man with a bushy moustache and a more ornate tabard than his companions.

“You’re the ones as killed these men, huh?” He turned to the man who’d done most of the talking so far. “What happened, Gani? There’s trouble, and I don’t have much time for this.”

“Their story seems true, Captain,” Gani answered. “They only killed those two,” he gestured toward the rat-demons. “These other two were apparently killed by the demons. And these two men showed up with peacebound weapons.”

The captain turned to face Heluk and Lum. “What do you know about this?” he demanded.

Lum scowled. “Not much. We were minding our own business when we heard fighting happening down the street. We thought maybe the Guard would appreciate lives being saved.”

The captain’s eyes hardened, and he started to speak, but abruptly his demeanor changed. “We are. Times are tense, and it’s not clear who’s friend and who’s foe now.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a story there. Listen, I need to organize a patrol in Southspur. Walk with me, will you? I’m headed for the barracks.

The companions joined the Captain: Afet and Lum in disguise, Korythis invisible, and all of them oblivious to the skinny woman who trailed them from the crowd of spectators and to the barracks.

“Forgive me. My name’s Ozgun,” the Captain said. “I’m not normally in charge here, but like I said, these are hard times these past few days, and – well, when you showed up, I guess the guards thought it might be some sort of gang war going on. Listen, you don’t know anything about gray men, do you?”

“Gray who?” the companions said.

“What about, did you get a look at the man in the robe, the one who splashed water on the demons?”

Afet answered. “He was gone before we arrived.”

“Hmm. A shame, that. I’d like to know who he was.” They arrived at the barracks and walked up a short flight of stairs to a spartan office. Ozgun called for a flunky to bring coffee and cushions for his guests.

“I’m going to be frank with you, and blunt. There’s someone killing people in Southspur, and we don’t know who it is. Or maybe what it is. And Nurallah’s gone missing.”

“Who?” Afet asked.

“Nurallah. She’s the actual captain. I’m just filling in for her till she turns back up, and frankly I don’t like it any. And we’ve lost another Red, too – no idea where he went to. We need to have extra Reds out on the streets, what with the fair and all, but instead we’re two officers short, including the Captain.

“You did good back there against those demons, and I could use you at my side when I go down to Southspur to take a look at the killing down there. How would you feel about being deputized?”

Lum agreed immediately, but Heluk held back. “Would we be paid?”

Ozgun ran his hand over his face. “Hmm. Right. Yes, of course. Can we talk about that on the way?”

That was good enough for Heluk. They gulped down the dregs of their coffee and headed out.

It was no more than half an hour since they’d first left, but now the skinny woman was joined by two bony men. The three figures followed Ozgun and the new deputies away from the barracks and toward the sparsely populated streets in Southspur.

 

[el-remmen]

Pielorinho,

I just cut and paste everything you have posted so far into a word doc for easy reading. . .

I should be caught up by tomorrow.

 

[Old One]

Just Droppin' In...

Daniel,

Just wanted to cruise by and say "Great Start!"...

Looking forward to more!

~ Old One