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Story Hour
The Fall of Civilization
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 4627784" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p><strong>Into Fandelose!</strong></p><p></p><p>It’s not a deep grave, but it is the best that they can do for their friend under the circumstances. They had to leave the beetle and wagon behind when ascending the fallen structure out of the quaggoth caves, and have no way to carry her corpse; it simply isn’t practical. And time is not on their side; the Six-Fingered Hand is coming, and since they have been ambushed, it is all too pressing a matter. </p><p></p><p>A shallow, barely-marked soldier’s grave and a quick, roadside ceremony: it certainly won’t be the last one that the environs around Fandelose will see before the year is out. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The road is not far from the log crossing, but the city is still two days away. Rathagos grows more and more impatient, unusual for an elf. All of our heroes are possessed of a sense of urgency. Travelers move up and down the roads, unconcerned, oblivious to the threat of the Hand. The party chats with some of these, and they hear more rumors that seem to confirm that the general they are looking for is in prison for some terrible crime or other. </p><p></p><p>Nowhere Jones, wandering along the road, hears something more disturbing: the village of Red Bank has been destroyed, though nobody knows how. </p><p></p><p>Our heroes can speculate.</p><p></p><p>Interestingly, Kratos hears that there is a play running in town- a play by the name of Nowhere Jones. He mentions this, bemusedly, to the others, and Nowhere Jones himself looks quite perplexed by the news. </p><p></p><p>“I guess we’ll have to see it,” he says.</p><p></p><p>One more disturbing rumor reaches the party’s ears: a daVoi is in Fandelose.*</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>It is a long couple of days. Finally, though, the party arrives at Fandelose, passing by the Black Gorge on the way. It is a polluted, dirty city with vast swaths of barely-livable area- the slums. Massive clouds of black smoke from the multitude of fires hang in the air. The fires, rather than burning wood, burn the dwarfish resource called firestone, which is mined in the Black Gorge. The streets are cobbled, but most buildings are wooden. Everyone seems to have a plethora of pockets on their clothing. The gates into the city are huge and wide, and offer entrance to the city only after passing between no less than three sets of guard towers and walls. However, they do not seem to be fully manned. Many of the knobs, knockers, furnishings and trim in the city it leafed with bronze, though most of it, like everything else in the city, is smudged with sooty residue. Almost immediately, our heroes find that they, too, are becoming smudged with it. </p><p></p><p>Rathagos insists the party follow him immediately to the military headquarters of the city. He hails a garen-drawn cab for them, and in only twenty minutes they arrive at an impressive, stolid-looking building. Rathagos enters and speaks quietly to an officer; a few moments later, the party is ushered into a sitting room, where a colonel named Jaxe awaits them. He immediately ushers Rathagos away for a debriefing, and calls a clerk to issue rewards to the others. Each of them is given 250 gp, and the colonel asks that to remain available to him if he requests their assistance, and offers them guest quarters- better than a room in the barracks, but not as nice as a good inn. </p><p></p><p>Heimall speaks up. “Colonel, I hope I’m not out of line here, but what’s going on? We heard rumors that General Argos is imprisoned in the Black Tower.”</p><p></p><p>Colonel Jaxe nods. His jaw stiffens. “Correct. The new general is General Pythock.”</p><p></p><p>“How does he compare to General Argos?” </p><p></p><p>Colonel Jaxe hesitates for a moment. Then: “General Pythock is my superior officer. As such, I fully support him.”</p><p></p><p>“I see.”</p><p></p><p>There is a moment of silence. Then, Torinn asks, “What is the general accused of?”</p><p></p><p>“Attempting to poison one of the councilors of the city.” </p><p></p><p>“What is his record like?” Vann-La queries. </p><p></p><p>“Exemplary,” says Jaxe emphatically. “He has countless awards and medals for honor, valor and service, he was one of the youngest men ever to achieve a generalship for the Empire- he’s practically a legend in his own time!”</p><p></p><p>“And did you know him personally?”</p><p></p><p>“I have served under him for years.”</p><p></p><p>“So you would say that it bears investigating?” Vann-La gives the colonel a measured look. </p><p></p><p>“Of course.”</p><p></p><p>“And what about the new general? Can we see him?”</p><p></p><p>“I can put a message on his desk,” Colonel Jaxe replies, “but I don’t know when he’ll get it.”</p><p></p><p>“He isn’t receptive to the troops? He doesn’t answer messages?”</p><p></p><p>“He hasn’t been to his office yet,” Jaxe says. His voice is completely neutral, held in obvious iron control.</p><p></p><p>“Colonel, you must know that the Six-Fingered Hand is not far from here,” Torinn starts.</p><p></p><p>“Indeed, they are less than two months away.”</p><p></p><p>The party stares at him. Kratos says, “What does this General Pythock do, then?”</p><p></p><p>“I wish I could tell you.”</p><p></p><p>“At a time like this, we can’t afford to have someone like this in power!” exclaims Vann-La. “How did he become Argos’ replacement?”</p><p></p><p>“Politics,” Jaxe sneers.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The government of Fandelose goes back over a thousand years. It predates the Empire’s presence here by a significant amount. When the Empire swallowed up the surrounding lands, Fandelose found it easier to pay a minor tribute and accept a few minor inconvenient terms (including a garrison) than to fight the well trained Imperial Scarlet Thrushes. Their union with the Empire was peaceful, but has always allowed the Fandelosian government to maintain a significant amount of independence. </p><p></p><p>Except in times of extreme emergency, the Bronze Council controls Fandelose. The Imperial garrison has to ask for funding from them for any needs above standard operating costs, and Fandelose’s unusual level of independence has left them somewhat reluctant to contribute. Thus, General Argos was unfortunately often in the position of having to go to the council, hat in hand, begging for the money required to (for example) upgrade the battlements of the walls.</p><p></p><p>Just a month ago, Fandelose was in relatively good shape. General Argos had gotten word that the Six-Fingered Hand was approaching and would strike inside of two months. He warned the Bronze Council and asked for more money in order to better prepare the city, but one of the councilors, Bridget Willow, protested that the army already gets billions of gold pieces a year and that the Six-Fingered Hand was moving on the east side of the mountains; surely they could not be a powerful enough force to reach all the way over here, too. </p><p></p><p>Things got heated in council. Argos stormed out without having gained anything. Without the funds to do more, his ability to prepare the city was limited. He did manage to get the council to agree to stockpile some supplies in case of a siege. </p><p></p><p>Later, after another council meeting when Argos pressed again for funding, there was an assassination attempt on Feevon Bronze, the head of the Bronze Council. Argos was arrested and imprisoned in the Black Tower when evidence of the same poison that had been used on Feevon Bronze was found in his bedchamber. Meanwhile, the council appointed a local noble named Dapell Pythock as the new general to appease him on some issues of land ownership and taxation. Pythock has no military experience or talent, but legally, as an aristocrat, he has a right to his new position.</p><p> </p><p>“Unfortunately, he still hasn’t been in,” Colonel Jaxe says.</p><p></p><p>“Colonel, with your permission, we’ll see if we can find anything out,” says Vann-La. </p><p></p><p>“Don’t get in trouble,” the colonel warns. “Stay out of trouble with the local law. I may be able to arrange a meeting with Argos for you, if you have any questions for him, but only once.”</p><p></p><p><em>Things are much worse here than we thought,</em> thinks Sta’Ligir. <em>It’s actually quite worrisome- these folk should be focusing all of their energy on preparing to resist the Hand, but their general is in jail, his replacement is an incompetent ass, and politics have brought things to a standstill. The only way things could be any worse would be...</em></p><p></p><p>Sta’Ligir frowns.</p><p></p><p><em>...if there were a spy.</em></p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The party begins poking around, meeting some of the other soldiers in the garrison here. Among others, they strike up a friendship with Billy Six-Fingers, perhaps the ugliest, most useless wart of an incompetent private any of them have ever seen. He is ecstatic to be able to sit with them in the mess hall, and immediately almost completely blows it by making a pass at Vann-La. When she makes it clear that his attentions are unwelcome, he makes it clear that clear isn’t clear enough, because he’s just that stupid. Poor lovestruck Billy! </p><p></p><p>The party’s investigation will last eleven days before it is over.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>In the Black Tower, General Argos lays on the pile of straw that serves as his crude bed and stares at the ceiling. As each day passes, he visualizes the horde of the Six-Fingered Hand creeping ever closer. Burning the outlying villages. Seizing the fields. Killing or enslaving the peasantry. </p><p></p><p>His mind churns with plans, questions, options, ideas. If he had intelligence, he could plan a defense even from here. Even if they are going to torture and kill him, he wants to defend the city, the <em>people.</em></p><p></p><p><em>They don’t realize the magnitude of the threat,</em> General Argos thinks. <em>This isn’t some tribe of 400 goblins. They will have archers, engines and siege towers. They will have tricks that the kobolds put together carried in by brute force by ogres. They will have resources we haven’t even seen yet. But if I were free- if I had a free hand- I could still build a defense to stop them, and if I have enough time, I can push them out, back, smash them. Cut their supply lines. Destroy their command section. Eliminate the food. An army that size feeds on its belly. We might have to destroy the lands for hundreds of miles around, but so be it. The horde will fall in on itself, cannibalize and disintegrate. Then they are easy prey.</em></p><p></p><p>He calculates in his mind. <em>If I am not released for another three days, I can still do it. I can. Even if I’m not released for a week or twelve days. The wall, the city’s defenses- I can defend them, so long as I have enough men to do it with. There are catapults. The walls are good, though some funding for repairs would have been nice in the last few years. I can hold the enemy at least. I think. But I must have time- at least a couple of weeks. I need time to prepare.</em></p><p></p><p>The clatter of the tray of food being left for him distracts him for a moment.</p><p></p><p><em>If they don’t just torture and kill me.</em></p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Our heroes are decorated heroes now: each awarded the Medal of Valor and promoted to Sergeant. In the case of Torinn and Vann-La, since they are technically Navy personnel and thus not subject to Army control, Colonel Jaxe establishes a attached group consisting of the two of them, with more recruits to come- and the Imperial Marines are born. This also gives Colonel Jaxe a certain amount of cover from the actions of them, since they aren’t technically under his chain of command (as they’re Navy), and ensures a certain level of autonomy for them so that politics don’t interfere with their investigation.</p><p></p><p>Cook is offered a position as an Army cook, which he immediately turns down. He is then surreptitiously offered a chance to help build a spy network, which he also turns down. “I’m a cook!” he insists, shaking his wooden spoon in the air. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The party speaks to several members of the Bronze Council, starting with Bridget Willow, who was General Argos’ nemesis on the council. She seems determined to see justice done. “He’ll have a fair trial,” she insists. “I wouldn’t have thought that he’d have done something like that, but the evidence is pretty damning.”</p><p></p><p>“What was the evidence, if you don’t mind my asking?” Sta’Ligir asks.</p><p></p><p>“The same poison that was used in the assassination attempt on Feevon Bronze was found in his chamber.”</p><p></p><p>“Is there no chance that this poison could be found in more than one place in the city?”</p><p></p><p>“Fulcane is quite rare,” she replies. “Exotic, in fact.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Knile Keflingorn is another of the councilors, but one that was usually more sympathetic to General Argos. It is he that has so far prevented Argos’ execution. He is in charge of the Bronze Council’s own investigation into the events surrounding the attempted murder, and so long as his investigation has not finished, Argos is in limbo. </p><p></p><p>Heimall is very pleased that at least one of the councilors can be counted on as an ally. He hopes. </p><p></p><p>Unfortunately, Vann-La finds another piece of interesting information: General Pythock is a cousin of the daVoi that is in town- Chiron daVoi.</p><p></p><p>“Something smells dirty already,” says Sta’Ligir.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Arson!</p><p></p><p>In a fire under threat of siege, there can be no worse crime. Our heroes help extinguish the blaze as it roars up in the slum, and together with a bunch of peasants, they manage to contain and then finally douse the fire. </p><p></p><p>A fire, truth be told, set by someone in the party.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Arson! Investigation! Romance! Treason!</p><p></p><p></p><p>*The daVois are a corrupt line of decadent nobles in the current timeline in my campaign. In the first session of the 4e game, the pcs stole a daVoi’s boat in order to make their escape from Chebonnay, the city they started in, when the Hand closed on it.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 4627784, member: 1210"] [b]Into Fandelose![/b] It’s not a deep grave, but it is the best that they can do for their friend under the circumstances. They had to leave the beetle and wagon behind when ascending the fallen structure out of the quaggoth caves, and have no way to carry her corpse; it simply isn’t practical. And time is not on their side; the Six-Fingered Hand is coming, and since they have been ambushed, it is all too pressing a matter. A shallow, barely-marked soldier’s grave and a quick, roadside ceremony: it certainly won’t be the last one that the environs around Fandelose will see before the year is out. *** The road is not far from the log crossing, but the city is still two days away. Rathagos grows more and more impatient, unusual for an elf. All of our heroes are possessed of a sense of urgency. Travelers move up and down the roads, unconcerned, oblivious to the threat of the Hand. The party chats with some of these, and they hear more rumors that seem to confirm that the general they are looking for is in prison for some terrible crime or other. Nowhere Jones, wandering along the road, hears something more disturbing: the village of Red Bank has been destroyed, though nobody knows how. Our heroes can speculate. Interestingly, Kratos hears that there is a play running in town- a play by the name of Nowhere Jones. He mentions this, bemusedly, to the others, and Nowhere Jones himself looks quite perplexed by the news. “I guess we’ll have to see it,” he says. One more disturbing rumor reaches the party’s ears: a daVoi is in Fandelose.* *** It is a long couple of days. Finally, though, the party arrives at Fandelose, passing by the Black Gorge on the way. It is a polluted, dirty city with vast swaths of barely-livable area- the slums. Massive clouds of black smoke from the multitude of fires hang in the air. The fires, rather than burning wood, burn the dwarfish resource called firestone, which is mined in the Black Gorge. The streets are cobbled, but most buildings are wooden. Everyone seems to have a plethora of pockets on their clothing. The gates into the city are huge and wide, and offer entrance to the city only after passing between no less than three sets of guard towers and walls. However, they do not seem to be fully manned. Many of the knobs, knockers, furnishings and trim in the city it leafed with bronze, though most of it, like everything else in the city, is smudged with sooty residue. Almost immediately, our heroes find that they, too, are becoming smudged with it. Rathagos insists the party follow him immediately to the military headquarters of the city. He hails a garen-drawn cab for them, and in only twenty minutes they arrive at an impressive, stolid-looking building. Rathagos enters and speaks quietly to an officer; a few moments later, the party is ushered into a sitting room, where a colonel named Jaxe awaits them. He immediately ushers Rathagos away for a debriefing, and calls a clerk to issue rewards to the others. Each of them is given 250 gp, and the colonel asks that to remain available to him if he requests their assistance, and offers them guest quarters- better than a room in the barracks, but not as nice as a good inn. Heimall speaks up. “Colonel, I hope I’m not out of line here, but what’s going on? We heard rumors that General Argos is imprisoned in the Black Tower.” Colonel Jaxe nods. His jaw stiffens. “Correct. The new general is General Pythock.” “How does he compare to General Argos?” Colonel Jaxe hesitates for a moment. Then: “General Pythock is my superior officer. As such, I fully support him.” “I see.” There is a moment of silence. Then, Torinn asks, “What is the general accused of?” “Attempting to poison one of the councilors of the city.” “What is his record like?” Vann-La queries. “Exemplary,” says Jaxe emphatically. “He has countless awards and medals for honor, valor and service, he was one of the youngest men ever to achieve a generalship for the Empire- he’s practically a legend in his own time!” “And did you know him personally?” “I have served under him for years.” “So you would say that it bears investigating?” Vann-La gives the colonel a measured look. “Of course.” “And what about the new general? Can we see him?” “I can put a message on his desk,” Colonel Jaxe replies, “but I don’t know when he’ll get it.” “He isn’t receptive to the troops? He doesn’t answer messages?” “He hasn’t been to his office yet,” Jaxe says. His voice is completely neutral, held in obvious iron control. “Colonel, you must know that the Six-Fingered Hand is not far from here,” Torinn starts. “Indeed, they are less than two months away.” The party stares at him. Kratos says, “What does this General Pythock do, then?” “I wish I could tell you.” “At a time like this, we can’t afford to have someone like this in power!” exclaims Vann-La. “How did he become Argos’ replacement?” “Politics,” Jaxe sneers. *** The government of Fandelose goes back over a thousand years. It predates the Empire’s presence here by a significant amount. When the Empire swallowed up the surrounding lands, Fandelose found it easier to pay a minor tribute and accept a few minor inconvenient terms (including a garrison) than to fight the well trained Imperial Scarlet Thrushes. Their union with the Empire was peaceful, but has always allowed the Fandelosian government to maintain a significant amount of independence. Except in times of extreme emergency, the Bronze Council controls Fandelose. The Imperial garrison has to ask for funding from them for any needs above standard operating costs, and Fandelose’s unusual level of independence has left them somewhat reluctant to contribute. Thus, General Argos was unfortunately often in the position of having to go to the council, hat in hand, begging for the money required to (for example) upgrade the battlements of the walls. Just a month ago, Fandelose was in relatively good shape. General Argos had gotten word that the Six-Fingered Hand was approaching and would strike inside of two months. He warned the Bronze Council and asked for more money in order to better prepare the city, but one of the councilors, Bridget Willow, protested that the army already gets billions of gold pieces a year and that the Six-Fingered Hand was moving on the east side of the mountains; surely they could not be a powerful enough force to reach all the way over here, too. Things got heated in council. Argos stormed out without having gained anything. Without the funds to do more, his ability to prepare the city was limited. He did manage to get the council to agree to stockpile some supplies in case of a siege. Later, after another council meeting when Argos pressed again for funding, there was an assassination attempt on Feevon Bronze, the head of the Bronze Council. Argos was arrested and imprisoned in the Black Tower when evidence of the same poison that had been used on Feevon Bronze was found in his bedchamber. Meanwhile, the council appointed a local noble named Dapell Pythock as the new general to appease him on some issues of land ownership and taxation. Pythock has no military experience or talent, but legally, as an aristocrat, he has a right to his new position. “Unfortunately, he still hasn’t been in,” Colonel Jaxe says. “Colonel, with your permission, we’ll see if we can find anything out,” says Vann-La. “Don’t get in trouble,” the colonel warns. “Stay out of trouble with the local law. I may be able to arrange a meeting with Argos for you, if you have any questions for him, but only once.” [i]Things are much worse here than we thought,[/i] thinks Sta’Ligir. [i]It’s actually quite worrisome- these folk should be focusing all of their energy on preparing to resist the Hand, but their general is in jail, his replacement is an incompetent ass, and politics have brought things to a standstill. The only way things could be any worse would be...[/i] Sta’Ligir frowns. [i]...if there were a spy.[/i] *** The party begins poking around, meeting some of the other soldiers in the garrison here. Among others, they strike up a friendship with Billy Six-Fingers, perhaps the ugliest, most useless wart of an incompetent private any of them have ever seen. He is ecstatic to be able to sit with them in the mess hall, and immediately almost completely blows it by making a pass at Vann-La. When she makes it clear that his attentions are unwelcome, he makes it clear that clear isn’t clear enough, because he’s just that stupid. Poor lovestruck Billy! The party’s investigation will last eleven days before it is over. *** In the Black Tower, General Argos lays on the pile of straw that serves as his crude bed and stares at the ceiling. As each day passes, he visualizes the horde of the Six-Fingered Hand creeping ever closer. Burning the outlying villages. Seizing the fields. Killing or enslaving the peasantry. His mind churns with plans, questions, options, ideas. If he had intelligence, he could plan a defense even from here. Even if they are going to torture and kill him, he wants to defend the city, the [i]people.[/i] [i]They don’t realize the magnitude of the threat,[/i] General Argos thinks. [i]This isn’t some tribe of 400 goblins. They will have archers, engines and siege towers. They will have tricks that the kobolds put together carried in by brute force by ogres. They will have resources we haven’t even seen yet. But if I were free- if I had a free hand- I could still build a defense to stop them, and if I have enough time, I can push them out, back, smash them. Cut their supply lines. Destroy their command section. Eliminate the food. An army that size feeds on its belly. We might have to destroy the lands for hundreds of miles around, but so be it. The horde will fall in on itself, cannibalize and disintegrate. Then they are easy prey.[/i] He calculates in his mind. [i]If I am not released for another three days, I can still do it. I can. Even if I’m not released for a week or twelve days. The wall, the city’s defenses- I can defend them, so long as I have enough men to do it with. There are catapults. The walls are good, though some funding for repairs would have been nice in the last few years. I can hold the enemy at least. I think. But I must have time- at least a couple of weeks. I need time to prepare.[/i] The clatter of the tray of food being left for him distracts him for a moment. [i]If they don’t just torture and kill me.[/i] *** Our heroes are decorated heroes now: each awarded the Medal of Valor and promoted to Sergeant. In the case of Torinn and Vann-La, since they are technically Navy personnel and thus not subject to Army control, Colonel Jaxe establishes a attached group consisting of the two of them, with more recruits to come- and the Imperial Marines are born. This also gives Colonel Jaxe a certain amount of cover from the actions of them, since they aren’t technically under his chain of command (as they’re Navy), and ensures a certain level of autonomy for them so that politics don’t interfere with their investigation. Cook is offered a position as an Army cook, which he immediately turns down. He is then surreptitiously offered a chance to help build a spy network, which he also turns down. “I’m a cook!” he insists, shaking his wooden spoon in the air. *** The party speaks to several members of the Bronze Council, starting with Bridget Willow, who was General Argos’ nemesis on the council. She seems determined to see justice done. “He’ll have a fair trial,” she insists. “I wouldn’t have thought that he’d have done something like that, but the evidence is pretty damning.” “What was the evidence, if you don’t mind my asking?” Sta’Ligir asks. “The same poison that was used in the assassination attempt on Feevon Bronze was found in his chamber.” “Is there no chance that this poison could be found in more than one place in the city?” “Fulcane is quite rare,” she replies. “Exotic, in fact.” *** Knile Keflingorn is another of the councilors, but one that was usually more sympathetic to General Argos. It is he that has so far prevented Argos’ execution. He is in charge of the Bronze Council’s own investigation into the events surrounding the attempted murder, and so long as his investigation has not finished, Argos is in limbo. Heimall is very pleased that at least one of the councilors can be counted on as an ally. He hopes. Unfortunately, Vann-La finds another piece of interesting information: General Pythock is a cousin of the daVoi that is in town- Chiron daVoi. “Something smells dirty already,” says Sta’Ligir. *** Arson! In a fire under threat of siege, there can be no worse crime. Our heroes help extinguish the blaze as it roars up in the slum, and together with a bunch of peasants, they manage to contain and then finally douse the fire. A fire, truth be told, set by someone in the party. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Arson! Investigation! Romance! Treason! *The daVois are a corrupt line of decadent nobles in the current timeline in my campaign. In the first session of the 4e game, the pcs stole a daVoi’s boat in order to make their escape from Chebonnay, the city they started in, when the Hand closed on it. [/QUOTE]
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