The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)

[Lazybones]

Very interesting musings!

It looks like I will most likely be traveling for business for part of next week (Tues-Thurs), so I will likely only be able to manage 4 updates. Fortunately I have a nice cliffhanger in store for chapter 81.

* * * * *

Chapter 77

ANATOMY OF A COUP


“Nice headquarters you guys have here,” Dar said.

Talen regarded him with a cold expression. “We make do with what we have, mercenary.”

The two men stood facing each other within the open hold of the merchantman Fortune’s Folly. A gentle rain pattered on the deck above, but did little to mute the noises of Camar’s bustling harbor that trickled in through the open hatches.

“I’m surprised that the Duke’s wizards have not sussed out your hiding place yet,” Dar said easily. “Or have had one of your own turn you in for a cart full of silver.”

The young men that had escorted Dar into the ship’s hold bristled, but Talen restrained them with a wave of his hand. “The mages of the Guild of Sorcery are not omnipotent, and there are means to defeat magical viewing,” the captain said. “Just being on open water has a way of fouling some forms of magic.”

“I had no idea you were so broadly versed in the arts of conspiracy, Talen,” the fighter said with a grin.

“It was Marshal Tiros who did most of the organizing,” Talen said. “He had a number of contingencies in place... even for his death.”

“Looks like his planning ahead paid off.”

“Allera said you had agreed to help us.”

“Indeed. I found that I missed your company just too much.”

“She spoke of your desire for a reward.”

“Oh? That is a surprise.”

“We will speak of prizes if and when the Duke has been overthrown,” the captain said. “But rest assured that a liberated Camar will have need of leaders to help move it forward back toward liberty and stability.”

“Ah. Well, my dear captain, the people have stability now, and from all accounts, most consider liberty highly overrated.”

“They are not so placid as you might assume. The Duke has at best a reluctant allegiance from the mercantile guilds, and from what I am told, there are those in the Guild of Sorcery and the Church of the Shining Father who would be quite happy to see a replacement come forward.”

“Being willing to countenance an alternative and being willing to support insurrection are two different things.”

“I know that. We all do. But we are prepared to do our best to bring about the necessary change.”

Dar leaned against a nearby strut. “So, what’s the plan?”

Talen smiled, but it was cold. “Now you must really take me for a fool. You will be briefed when we are ready to carry out the operation.”

“Not too long, I hope. I have a business to run, and important things to consider. My neck, for one.”

“Don’t worry yourself unduly. We have a plan, and we have resources to draw upon. It will succeed.”

“Your optimism is notable,” Dar said. “Say, where’s Allera?”

“She is out in the city gathering supplies. Don’t worry, we’ll do our best to entertain you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come now. You don’t imagine that we could let you go back into the city, now that you’ve seen this place?”

“You going to stop me?” Dar asked. He pushed slightly away from the spar, bringing the hilt of his sword within easy reach.

There was a sudden and dramatic shift in the atmosphere in the hold. In addition to the two men behind him, there were several others within view nearby, all of whom carried weapons openly. And there had been at least half a dozen others on the upper deck of the ship, within an easy shout.

There was a loud crack, and several people jumped as a hatch in the floor sprang open. A wiry old man’s head popped up, and looked around.

“Eh? What’s with all the racket up here?”

“Master Alucinor,” Talen said. “I apologize if we disturbed your work.”

“If you want those bombs ready by Founder’s Day, then you’d best not disturb my concentration,” the old man said, pointing a finger at the captain. “It’s bad enough with all this... rocking. Very inconvenient! And that ‘assistant’ you sent down, Jaros? It’s impossible to think with him always humming!”

“I’ll see if we can’t find someone else to help you, Master Alucinor,” Talen said. The old man snorted and disappeared back down the hatch, slamming the hatch after him.

“Bombs, eh?” Dar asked.

“We’ve got hammocks set up in the forward hold,” Talen said. “Grab one; I’ll have food, drink, cards, and dice sent up.”

Dar held the captain’s stare for a moment longer. “Fine,” he said. “But this had better be building up to something good.”

 

[Dungannon]

Geez, I can't believe I just found this storyhour. You need a new VP of Advertising Lazybones, your current one sucks. It took me two days to read all nine pages, but I've finally finished and all I can say is DAMN!

Okay, I can say a lot more than that. This is my favorite of your three storyhours so far, the characters are more, I don't know, real? vibrant? believable? Anyway, your writing has done nothing but get better and better since you started years ago with a chance meeting at a crossroads of four disparate souls.

On to the story itself. Rappan Athuk is a badass dungeon, I may have to throw it into the homebrew I'm building. Killing the half-orc right away was a bit of a shock, but it fit the story and really highlighted the deadliness of the place. I liked the improvised spiked chain you gave him, too. I knew the warlock was doomed from the start. I mean c'mon, he was an arcane caster and his signature color was red! And the reinforcements you sent, my lord man. Who would've thought that, in a LB story, the dwarf would die before the clerics?!

And as for Book II, of course Dar is "the general". I mean Dar, Varo, and the Mad Elf are the last of the original Doomed Bastards, it's only fitting that they be the ones to fulfill the prophecy.

Good writing and I look forward to the next update!

 

[wolff96]

Actually, based on the latest update...

I'm betting something happens before too long and Talen gets sent to whatever reward awaits him past the mortal realm. Then, so that he'll get his EARTHLY rewards, Dar takes over the insurgency. That would make him the "General". It's still possible that some of my earlier speculations are correct, but I like this new pet theory.

 

[jfaller]

I've been away for a few days and missed my opportunity to post in response to the last two entries. So here goes, I completely agree that not all is as appears w/ the Shining Father as well... The first thing that flitted through the dim recesses of my mind was that it sounded suspiciously like the religion of the Shining Father has become fat, lazy and corrupt.

And then there's the Codex Thanara. A codex foretelling what? Sounds to me like the rise of Orcus. So why the falling out? Wouldn't that naturally concern those w/in a supposedly "good-aligned" religion? I'd think so...

Dar is ... changing. For lack of a better word. Something is happening to him. Whether as a result of being in contact w/ a possibly powerful weapon...his experiences in Rappan Athuk... or even the unlikely growth of his own diminutive conscience (Sort of like the Grinch's heart...which grew 4 sizes that day.) Whatever it is, it's changing him.

For instance, when was the last time that you heard Dar say something like this: “Being willing to countenance an alternative and being willing to support insurrection are two different things.” ? Maybe I'm reading too much into this but I get this feeling that he's morphing into something different.

 

[Nightbreeze]

For instance, when was the last time that you heard Dar say something like this: “Being willing to countenance an alternative and being willing to support insurrection are two different things.” ? Maybe I'm reading too much into this but I get this feeling that he's morphing into something different.

I agree. I think that some strange desease is raising his WIS score

 

[javcs]

I agree. I think that some strange desease is raising his WIS score

Doncha mean INT score?
Just messin' with you.

Probably both INT and WIS ...

 

[Lazybones]

You are all very observant.

My trip is going forward, so I'll post again tomorrow morning, then again Thursday night when I get back, and Friday at the usual time (and with the usual cliffhanger).

* * * * *

Chapter 78

MOVING IN HIGH CIRCLES


The man known as the Patriarch, High Priest of the Shining Father in the city of Camar, entered his private office. The place, situated directly above the Holy Nave in the architectural marvel that was the Great Cathedral, was traditionally a place of reflection and virtue for the most powerful cleric of Camar’s dominant religion. The High Priest had a staff of twenty working in the public office below, but here, through three windows that offered magnifent views of the city and the bay beyond, the nominal leader of the city’s faithful could stand in silent and solitary contemplation of the greatness of the gods’ creation.

The Patriarch had crossed the floor halfway to his desk when he paused, and frowned. There was a large object on his desk, covered in a square of black silk.

Grasping his holy symbol, the Patriach summoned the power of the Father, sensing for the presence of evil. Whatever the thing under the cover was, it was not malevolent. Curious, the cleric was about to detect for magic when a voice brought his attention around.

“Hello, Gaius.”

The cleric started and spun around, his hand still clutched tight upon his holy symbol. His eyes widened as a figure stepped out of the air, and then his face twisted into a snarl as he recognized the intruder.

“Varo! You dare to come here?”

“Calm yourself. I only wish to talk with you for a moment.”

“Heretic! I have no interest in hearing your words!” Summoning the power of his patron, he surrounded himself with a Shield of Law.

“Impressive. But I have no intention of attacking you, Gaius.”

“Then you shall feel the vengeance that your victims have cried out for,” the cleric hissed, reaching out for his magic once more.

“Kylan Toledra.”

The cleric flinched as though he’d been struck a physical blow. “What?”

“You know the name, Patriarch. If I do not leave this chamber, it and four other names: Lale Tonneth, Palden Sur, Allen Jangar, and Edwin Karedes, will be spoken the length and breadth of Camar.

“How... how could you know...”

“The Church of the Father is no stranger to scandal, of course. But to have in the passing of a single year, in one province, five boys, three priests in three different villages...”

“You are delusional if you think you can stain me with those names! I was blameless...”

“I am sorry, I did not mean to imply that you were the perpetrator of such vile acts, Patriarch. But as it happens, you were the bishop of the diocese of Yelen when those cases occurred. Strange, how the cases never came before the Ecclesiastic Council, isn’t it? And while all three priests retired soon thereafter, there was no formal punishment, was there?”

The Patriarch fixed Varo with a stare that was equal parts hatred and dread. “What do you want, heathen?”

Varo nodded in the direction of the covered object upon the Patriarch’s desk.

Wary, the high priest walked over to his desk. He shot a glance back at Varo, as if suspecting that the other cleric would creep up behind him to strike. But Varo merely stood where he had been, watching.

“What foul artifact is this?” the Patriarch asked.

“See for yourself.”

The Patriarch grabbed onto the silk cloth and drew it back. Below, shining brightly in the diffuse late afternoon light coming through the room’s tall windows, was the bronze bowl that Varo had taken from Banth’s quarters in Rappan Athuk. Recently polished, it gleamed brilliantly, the deeply etched runes around the perimeter of the bowl catching the light.

“It is a brazier of commanding fire elementals,” Varo said. “Sulphur, added to the flame, greatly augments the potency of the conjured creature. To that I can personally attest.”

The Patriarch looked at him, suspicion obvious in his eyes.

“Oh, it is genuine, Gaius,” Varo said. “Feel free to use your diviniatory powers to confirm it; I will wait.”

“The summoning words?”

Varo drew out a small, tightly-wound parchment scroll. “I will hand them to you when we have reached an amiable exchange. I imagine, that with all the symbolism of the ‘burning torch’ and the ‘warding flame’ that the holy church uses, this item will be quite... useful, for you to possess. If nothing else, it might liven up the Midsummer Flame ritual somewhat.”

The Patriarch had run his fingers along the edge of the bowl as Varo had spoken, but now he turned around. “I will not lend the power of the Most Holy Church to the aid of the cult of the Dark Creeper.”

“Nor would I ask you to. No, you know as well as I that my ‘cult’, as you call it, is riven. The church of Dagos is in ruins; my former associates have been imprisoned and tortured to death by the Duke and his enforcers. No, what I have in mind, it is... more personal.”

“By all rights, I should call upon the power of the Father and finish the job, right now.”

Varo tsked. “You could, although I should warn you, my own power has been augmented considerably since you had me sent to my doom. But you are forgetting something. The names, Gaius. The names.”

The high priest considered. Varo looked calm, but he had to make an effort not to reach up and grasp his own divine focus, the same one that he had crafted for himself in Rappan Athuk.

“What do you want, then?” the Patriarch finally asked.

“Three things; a bargain given the value of that bowl. A fully-charged wand of cure serious wounds. A scroll with the greater restoration spell scribed upon it. And finally, a periapt of wisdom, the most powerful of the three varieties.”

“The church does not have one of the last in its inventory,” the Patriarch responded.

“Oh, the one that you wear will suffice,” Varo said. “It is a bargain, Gaius, considering the added value of silence that you earn as a free bonus. Even if you do not elect to keep the bowl, you could certainly sell it to the Guild of Sorcery for enough gold to build another cathedral to the glory of the Father.”

“I will need to go down to the Vaults to...”

“No. You will call Baden Nosk, your private secretary. You will tell him to bring the wand and the scroll from the repository in the Lesser Nave. If you do anything else, or embellish beyond my instructions, then our deal is null and void.”

“I sometimes forget that you were once one of us, Varo.”

“Sometimes I do as well, Gaius. Please decide now. I have other appointments to attend to this day.”

The high priest did as he was bidden, calling his secretary via the pull cord set into the wall behind his desk. Varo stepped into the shadows on the far side of the room where he’d first appeared, out of direct sight of the door. The young Nosk, clad in a crisp robe of new wool, appeared within a minute. He listed to the Patriarch’s orders without comment, and descended immediately to fulfill them.

While they waited, Varo asked, “How fares Valus?”

“Valus?”

“Yes. Last I saw, he and Lord Sobol were fighting off a veritable army of humanoids that did not seem at all pleased at their presence in the region.”

“I was surprised to see one of the Duke’s creatures in the company of one of the higher priests of the Conclave,” Varo said. “From what I have heard, relations between the lord of Camar and the church have been strained of late.”

“The church does not take sides in temporal disputes,” the Patriarch said. “The Duke is the lawful ruler of Camar.”

“Still, some of his policies must be galling. His ban on the casting of spells in his presence is unprecedented, I believe. And from what I have heard, the entire Palace is warded to reveal the use of any magic upon its premises.”

“Such measures are directed against the Guild, not against the church. The Duke is a pious man.”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

“And there are still rebels who refuse to acknowledge the legitimacy of the Duke. But as your foul cult was destroyed, so too shall all other threats to order and the stability of the state be dealt with. Then, the security measures will be less necessary.”

“The justification of exigency is one of the oldest tales in the book.”

“I will not argue political theory with one of the fallen.”

“Theology then, perhaps?”

The Patriarch fell silent, and the two waited for several minutes in uneasy quiet. Finally, Nosk returned, bearing a small white satchel. “Excuse me, Patriarch... I thought I heard voices on the stairs.”

“It is of no concern, Nosk.”

“As you say, Patriarch.” The secretary waited for a moment, but when it became clear that there were no further orders, he turned and departed, closing the door behind him.

The high priest opened up the satchel, and examined its contents. He took an amulet from a slender silver chain around his neck, and added it to the package. “Here, take it,” he said, offering it to Varo.

Varo came across the room and took the satchel. He examined the contents briefly, then witih a flick of his wrist tossed the tiny scroll into the bowl. “Our business is concluded.”

With a last glance at Varo, the Patriarch took up the scroll and unrolled it. The words written upon it were in an unfamiliar language, but the cleric could feel the echo of power within them. Varo hadn’t tricked him; the command words were legitimate.

“Varo, I had best not...” he said, turning.

The cleric was gone.

“Nosk.”

The door opened, and the Patriarch’s secretary walked back into the room. “You heard?”

The man nodded.

The Patriarch’s fist tightened on the scroll in his hand. “Prepare a message for me,” he said. “To Lord Sobol, at the Ducal Palace. Begins: My good friend, I have news to share...”

 

[Fiasco]

Whooeee! That Varo is a slick operator. I love the intrigues that you are setting up. Might this be a good time to get an update of the characters in the Rogues Gallery? With his new periapt, I imagine that Varo will be quite formidable. He is almost certainly planning another trip into Rappan Athuk. I wonder how he will convince the others?

 

[Nightbreeze]

Hmm...it's strange. I know that "The cleric was gone." is a fine expression, but how does a cleric vanish without words or gestures? It seemed normal right after Rappan Athuk, he probably just walked away, but in the middle of a cathedral?

Anyway, yay for Varo

 

[Lazybones]

Hmm...it's strange. I know that "The cleric was gone." is a fine expression, but how does a cleric vanish without words or gestures? It seemed normal right after Rappan Athuk, he probably just walked away, but in the middle of a cathedral?

It will be explained in more detail in the next post after this one, but the short answer: he drank a potion.

* * * * *

Chapter 79

PREPARATION


Fortune’s Folly sat low in the water just off a long, sagging quay on the far northern end of Camar’s docks. The squall that had hovered over the city over the last two days had blown away with the coming of the morning, leaving the harbor becalmed, and the entire city unnaturally quiet. It was Seventhday, which was typically a day of rest for most of the city’s residents, but it was also the day before a big holiday in the city, the annual commemoration of the city’s founding some thousand-odd years before.

In the hold of the merchant ship, some thirty men and women were crowded together. All of the portholes and hatches had been sealed and covered, and the air was thick and warm. The only light shone from the sword of Talen Karedes, who spoke from the center of a ring of attentive bodies.

“The day has come at last. Tonight, we put into fruition the dream of Marshal Velan Tiros, and other greats like him, who dared to stand up to tyranny. The marshal is with us no longer, but his spirit still guides us as we move forward to free Camar from the iron grasp of its corrupt masters.”

“You have all sacrificed to make this day possible. Unfortunately, we have had to keep most of you in the dark as to our plans; this was for your safety, but also for the absolute need to keep the security of the operation intact. You all know how talented the Duke’s questioners are at their craft.”

“Now, the time for obfuscation is at an end. From this point out, we go forward together, as brothers and sisters, to live or die as we succeed or fail at our mission.”

“About time,” Dar muttered.

“The palace, as you know, is heavily guarded. In addition to the Duke’s personal cadre of elite guardsmen, the entire place is warded against magic. The Duke has an almost pathological fear of spellcasters, and has forbidden by degree any spellcasting in his presence.”

“You’re saying there’s an anti-magic shell over the entire palace?” Allera asked.

“No. That would be beyond the power of even the Archmages of the Guild of Sorcery to construct. But the wards have been constructed so that the Duke will instantly be alerted if any magic items or active spells are brought within the palace walls. We have tested this, and have confirmed that it works.”

“I bet it sucked to be the testers,” Dar commented to the man beside him.

“But the Duke’s paranoia may work to our advantage,” Talen said. “It is extremely unlikely that he will have magi or clerics as part of his defenses.”

“That just leaves five hundred elite troops,” Dar said.

“You are right, Dar,” Talen replied. “But the majority of them are barracked in the outer wards. There are less than a hundred men assigned to the inner palace itself. But just to be safe, we’ve organized a little distraction. Allera?”

“We’ve organized a protest that will develop out of the festivities in the Great Square, in front of the cathedral,” Allera said. “Jaros has gathered a small army of young people who will help spread the word; we have a thousand pamphlets prepared, and a banner.”

“I have composed a chant that is both catchy and incredibly unflattering of our Exalted Leader,” the bard said. “The crowd will eat it up, I assure you.”

“You’re going to throw children up against the Duke’s soldiers? I’m impressed, Talen, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“We are not sending these people in to fight,” Allera said, her voice tightly controlled.

“No, you’re just going to stir up the crowd, and bolt when things get ugly,” Dar said. “Either way, innocent people are going to die.”

“Many innocent people have let out their last breath in that square, hanging on the Wall of Regret,” one of the warriors said, a grizzled mountain scout named Baraka Suhn. “We aren’t dicing for coppers here, mercenary.”

Talen lifted his open hands to calm them. “We aren’t looking for a bloodbath, but we cannot have a chance of success unless the Duke’s soldiers have their attentions elsewhere.”

“Now, once night falls, the strike team will make its way into the palace. We’ve arranged for fourteen men to pose as teamsters, bringing in an extra-large load of foodstuffs for the Founder’s Day festivities. Alucinor’s bombs of alchemical sleep gas should take care of the kitchen staff and the guards.”

“You will have to be careful,” the alchemist said. “The poison works quickly, but you have to get a good whiff of it for it to take effect. If you hold your breath, you can run through a cloud of the stuff, although it will settle quickly once the bomb bursts... ten seconds at most.”

“Alucinor has also prepared a coating for our blades and arrows that should incapacitate any foes that the bombs miss. Be careful with it; one careless scratch, and you’ll end up knocking yourself out. Once we’re in the palace, we’ll switch into guard uniforms,” Talen said. “Then we’ll make our way directly to the Duke’s chambers.”

“What if he’s not there?” Dar asked. “Say he takes a walk, or decides to go grab a whore or something. I mean, it’s Founder’s Eve and all. That’s what I’d be doing, if I wasn’t overthrowing the government.”

A few of the young men laughed. “He is meeting with his inner circle of noble lords that night,” Talen said. “He will be there.”

“What about the magic ward, captain?” a tall woman archer named Pella Dorin asked. “How do we get our weapons past it?” She tapped a quiver dangling from her hip, which bristled with arrows with different colored fletching.

“You don’t,” Talen said. “We’ll be using mundane gear only for this mission. You can store your magical weapons here until the mission is complete. Don’t worry, Pella, I’ve asked Alucinor to prepare you some ‘special’ arrows that won’t radiate magic at all, but which will pack a little extra punch regardless.”

“I call them ‘boomshots’,” the aged alchemist said, chortling.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Dar said. “I’m not leaving my sword here. Don’t you think that our weapons might come in handy in there?”

“There is nothing to be done for it. If we try to smuggle in so much as a healing potion, then we’ll never get past the outer wall.”

“Oh, this just gets better and better,” Dar said.

“Are there any more questions? All right, people. Check your gear, then check it again. Talk to Anders what you’re bringing. We’ve got hiding places built into the wagons we’ll be using, but we don’t have any space for extra stuff. Alucinor will brief you on the gas bombs and his other surprises. Other than that, grab a quiet spot and try to get some rest. We set out at sunset.”

As the revolutionaries went about their preparations, Dar sought out Allera. “So,” he said. “This is it, I suppose.”

“I have to get going,” Allera said. “Jaros and I have a lot of preparation of our own to do before nightfall.”

“Wait. I wanted to give you this. It’s magic, I guess, so I won’t get to bring it with me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave it here for some sailor to steal.” He took a large gemstone, several inches across, out of his pocket and handed it to her. It was the glowing green stone he’d found in the temple of Orcus in Rappan Athuk, taken off a slain cult priest.

“What is it?” she said.

“I have no idea. But it matches your eyes.”

She looked up at him, uncertain for a moment. “You are the most exasperating man I have ever met. First you basically make me a whore, and now you’re offering me jewelry?”

“You’re not a whore, Allera,” Dar said.

“Well, if this is your idea of ‘dating’, then you’ve got something fundamentally wrong inside your brain.”

“I don’t suppose I can argue with that.”

She shook her head. “Try not to get killed,” she said finally.

“Oh, I fully intend to collect my payment,” he said with a grin. She flushed, and with an angry expression started to turn away. “Be careful,” he said after her.

She looked at him again, nodded, and joined the bard, darting up the forward hatch and out before he could say anything else.