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"The Promised Land" - An Aquerra Campaign (Last Updated 1/23/04)
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<blockquote data-quote="Rastfar" data-source="post: 973530" data-attributes="member: 9596"><p><strong>session 5</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>session #5</strong></p><p></p><p>Both men stooped to shield their unfocused stares from the fat droplets that doused them. One’s slouch was more pronounced due to hunch natural to his stature, yet he remained taller than his younger counterpart. Upon returning to the Valinson home, Jebediah had indeed begun to solidify a plan in his mind, which he now relayed to ‘black’ Adair as they shook the rain and cold out of their cloaks in the foyer. From the sitting room they heard a ‘thud’ as Gravis threw another log onto the fire on his way into the kitchen. </p><p></p><p>They sat down in the comfort that the warm sitting room still offered. Jebediah figured that with the aid of a disguise he could make himself appear as Wrenchard. In discussion, the tentative plan changed to Jebediah posing as a sick and weakened Wrenchard. Ultimately, they’d decided to say that Wrenchard was indeed ill but conferring all his authority and responsibility to Jebediah for the duration of the period. This would be passed in a forged letter. Adair took issue with the final part, but liked the sound of the plan as a whole.</p><p></p><p>“I’d probably skip the letter because if you were really sick – could you write a letter?” It stood to reason.</p><p></p><p>They retired to Wrenchard’s study where, with Jebediah’s guidance, Adair took dictation. Gravis followed in with mulled wine. Jebediah rifled the desk and found a copy of Wrenchard’s signature. He began practicing the unique loops and hesitations of the characters. He copied it over and over again while spewing the letters content.</p><p></p><p>Finally, it read:</p><p></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Microsoft Sans Serif'">To the honourable folk of Kendrick,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Microsoft Sans Serif'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Microsoft Sans Serif'"> Please extend all my privileges and responsibilities to my manservant, Jebediah Groomer, for the duration of my illness. This is most important when I am putting all my available resources at the disposal of the new alderman.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Microsoft Sans Serif'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Microsoft Sans Serif'">Sincerely, </span> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Wrenchard Valinson</span></p><p></p><p>Adair blew the ink dry. Jebediah left the young pupil to peruse the letter and went upstairs to harass the resting militiaman some more.</p><p></p><p>The door hinges squeaked as if in pain, responding to Jebediah’s forceful kick, the door flew wide. Jonas rolled over lazily.</p><p></p><p>“I know you’re too <em>tired</em> to do anything today, but I wanted to let you know that if this plan doesn’t work, we’re probably all going to die.” Jebediah sneered at the sleepy-headed Jonas.</p><p></p><p>“Well,…” Jonas opened an eye and yawned, stretching his arms wide. He didn’t cover his mouth. “Somewhere between the not working part and the killing part,” Jonas fluffed his pillow, rolled over on it and closed his eye, smacking his lips. “Come and wake me if it comes to that.”</p><p></p><p>Jebediah recoiled, disgusted. He slammed the door behind him as he exited. He earned a sound ‘shooshing’ from the elder Adair at the end of the hall by Wrenchard’s bedside, for his efforts.</p><p></p><p>There was a firm knock on the door. Gravis attended the duty, Jebediah hearing the noises moved down the hall to the top of the stairs. Adair poked his head from the study.</p><p></p><p>The manservant showed in the sheriff and the clergyman. Sturgis looked up to the pilgrim descending the staircase.</p><p></p><p>“I have an idea.” He spotted Noelle down the hall in the kitchen with a tray of empty dishware. “Maybe we should retire to the study.”</p><p></p><p>They did so. In the relative privacy, Jebediah first explained the plan that he and Adair had been working on developing. The shepherd handed the cleric the letter.</p><p></p><p>Ephraim read it aloud.</p><p></p><p>Jebediah and Adair waited expectantly.</p><p></p><p>“Hrerm. That’s kinda like my idea.” Sturgis said. “But I was thinking that someone could masquerade as the alderman. Who better to depose Sterling’s authority, and I’d be certain that he’d never met our alderman. We’d just need someone familiar with a bit of pomp and circumstance, the qualities of nobility, and Rhondrian and Menovian law.”</p><p></p><p>Ephraim nodded in agreement.</p><p></p><p>Jebediah and Adair looked at one another. The idea registered in their eyes; why hadn’t they thought of that. Following this possibility Jebediah added.</p><p></p><p>“I have a disguise kit.”</p><p></p><p>Baffled, Sturgis asked, “Really? Why?”</p><p></p><p>Jebediah’s admission raised a few eyebrows and induced skeptical looks. He offered explanation, “Uh, for minstrel shows.”</p><p></p><p>Sturgis’ communal duties took hold, “You don’t look like a minstrel.”</p><p></p><p>“I’m not, but I have done some acting.”</p><p></p><p>“Where did you learn that?” Sturgis may have been rural but knew such talents required time, money, training, and skill.</p><p></p><p>“From actors…” Jebediah remained vague.</p><p></p><p>“Were you part of a troupe?”</p><p></p><p>“I used to be,” Jebediah offered.</p><p></p><p>“Oh? The Jingle Jangle Players?” Sturgis drew on his only knowledge of such a group.</p><p></p><p>“I think time is short for this,” Jebediah veered, feeling the growing frown of Ephraim’s penetrating gaze. “I will be glad to tell you the whole story at some other time.”</p><p></p><p>The conversation shifted, Jebediah’s angst eased, he continued, “If I am going to pretend to be the alderman I will need a servant to shine my armor…”</p><p></p><p>Adair put his left index finger to his lips and pat his right hand on the speakers arm, bidding him pause. He had heard footsteps hurrying away in the hall, just outside.</p><p></p><p>“We were overheard.” He explained.</p><p></p><p>Jebediah stood and opened the door. There he saw Gravis hurrying off down the hall toward the kitchen.</p><p></p><p>“Gravis!” He hollered reprimanding the faithful servant.</p><p></p><p>“…uh…I don’t know how to polish armor, sir.” He called over his shoulder and turned around the corner.</p><p></p><p>The task fell to Constance and Adair who found space for the chore on the dining room table. Jebediah set about his façade, applying oils, powders, coal and resin. Ephraim and the sheriff waited and sipped mulled wine.</p><p></p><p>It occurred to Jebediah that the alderman would have a contingent of men, and thusly he would too. Jonas was still sleeping upstairs and he figured this would be a good place to begin acquiring retainers.</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Jonas cringed from the light that persisted in creeping through the minute cracks and imperfections of the shutters covering the windows. Water began to collect below on the floor. His respite was the soothing harmony of the soft patter of rain on the roof, until the door opened. The figure standing in the frame was not Jebediah Groomer. The silhouette at least was not the wayward traveler that Jonas knew; though there were similarities.</p><p></p><p>The taller man entered the room surrounded by an air of regality. He stood erect, towering over the bed, boasting the full measure of a nobleman. Jonas cracked an eyelid and found his focus on the hilt of a sword. The pommel he recognized. He turned his ogle upward.</p><p></p><p>Full silver-speckled sideburns covered the man’s cheeks and jaw line. A long moustache stretched over his upper lip and ran down the corners of his mouth to meet them near his chin, which remained exposed, though stubbly. His hair was not as dark and was pushed back from his rutted brow, behind his ears.</p><p></p><p>Jebediah looked down at the lazy militiaman. He kicked the bedpost, hard.</p><p></p><p>“Get up. I need you.”</p><p></p><p>Jonas recognized the voice and became defensive, surly. Though the stoop and hunch had vanished, the recognition was there.</p><p></p><p>“What?” He whined.</p><p></p><p>“You need to pose as a retainer.” There was a natural tone of authority and command in his voice.</p><p></p><p>“What?”</p><p></p><p>“I’m now going to pretend to be your alderman and I need retainers.”</p><p></p><p>“What?”</p><p></p><p>Jebediah glowered.</p><p></p><p>“Sterling will recognize me. I played for them at the pub last night. Besides, you look nothing like the alderman.” The excuses came hard and fast.</p><p></p><p>“That may be, but the Menovians won’t know that.”</p><p></p><p>“That plan is stupid.”</p><p></p><p>“Do you have a better idea?” He asked rhetorically. Jebediah’s patience was wearing thin.</p><p></p><p>“It’ll never work.”</p><p></p><p>“Look, if you’re not going to help, then you can’t stay here loafing about. This is not your sanctuary. You’ll have to leave.”</p><p></p><p>“You just got here three days ago, how’d you get in charge?” Jonas griped. Gravis looked on from the hallway, smirking.</p><p></p><p>Jebediah waited. Jonas, annoyed, looked to Gravis for confirmation.</p><p></p><p>“Well, as the master is infirmed, Mr. Groomer, his formal guest and only other capable man of the house, yes. Yes, he is.” The manservant reported dutifully with relish.</p><p></p><p>The Fawkes boy balked and pulled the covers up to his neck.</p><p></p><p>Jebediah ignored the action of defiance and began to outline his plan. Jonas shook his head disagreeably.</p><p></p><p>“Why are you shaking your head? It must be muddled. Get out of bed.”</p><p></p><p>“My head is always muddled.” Jonas conceded. “I’m not getting out of bed, I can’t help you.”</p><p></p><p>“What would you have me do?” Jebediah asked.</p><p></p><p>“Why don’t you tell them Mr. Valinson’s sick?” Jonas shook his head, patronizing, and rolled over.</p><p></p><p>“It’s too late for that; they’ll demand to see him…”</p><p></p><p>Jonas interrupted, “Not if he’s ill. Grievously sick.” His tenor was condescending; this new plot registered on Jebediah’s wizened face. Jonas continued, “Fatally ill. A plague.”</p><p></p><p>From behind his back Jonas could feel the man’s hesitation. His muscles again began to relax. His breathing slowed. The silence signaled his momentary victory.</p><p></p><p>Jebediah realized his inaction, hovering there by the bedside. “Well, you’ve bought yourself some more sleep.” He intentionally spoke loudly to be cantankerous and pulled the door closed on his way out.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Minutes later Constance, ‘elder’ Adair, Kelize, ‘black’ Adair, Gravis, Ephraim, and Sturgis were all gathered in the downstairs dining room where ‘alderman’ Jebediah summarized the new plan. Time was running short. They’d hang the black curtains in warning and claim a wasting disease had beset them: the red one. (1)</p><p></p><p>The group broke, everyone attending to details. Sturgis and Ephraim crept out the back way while there was still time. ‘Black’ Adair remained behind to help out, breaking down some of Fort Valinson’s defenses. Jebediah shed his current disguise and returned to normal, though with some makeup assistance to make his skin pallid. Gravis gathered some of Wrenchard’s bloodied sheets and piled them in a basket, which was conveniently placed by the front door, for removal. ‘Elder’ Adair concocted a brew, mostly salt and water, to induce vomiting.</p><p></p><p>As the expected arrival drew near, Jebediah found himself down in the sitting room with the young shepherd hanging the last of the ominous drapery.</p><p></p><p>“Do you believe in times of war that men have to do thing s they might not do otherwise?”</p><p></p><p>Adair was a bit confused by the question, but was used to listening. For some reason people always felt comfortable opening up to him. “I guess. Why?”</p><p></p><p>“Because if this plan succeeds,” Jebediah finished hanging the last curtain. “And we succeed in getting them to leave us alone for a little while, we may need to find a way to block the exits of the alderman’s house with them inside. And burn it down.” He sipped from a cup, which held the herbalist’s briny potion.</p><p></p><p>Adair was frustrated, “Why does everyone wanna burn down the alderman’s house?” </p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Elsewhere, Constance tried to take refuge in her appointed guest. She was only mildly surprised to find her room occupied. Jonas, expecting another visit from her sibling, regained modesty. He flushed as she sat on the bedside and poured him some more water. Peering behind, he noticed that she had pulled the door closed behind her. She wiped his brow with a clean cloth. Noting the crossbow, she loaded it for him and slid it under the sheets. He tensed with anticipation.</p><p></p><p>“Uh, don’t you think you should leave that door open some?” Jonas said to her, nervously.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, why?”</p><p></p><p>“Uh, uh…`cause your brother is gonna be mad at me,” the young fool chirped weakly.</p><p></p><p>“It will be fine,” she replied, smiling broadly and batting her eyelashes.</p><p></p><p>After some idle banter (most of which consisted of Constance’s self-deprecation and need of stalwart protectors), she left. Jonas was agog. He was curious as to her sudden interest and fawning.</p><p></p><p>Constance crossed the hall to her brother’s quarters, closing doors along the way. Inside the room ‘black’ Adair waited, listening for any sign of action downstairs. Constance’s wiles and feminine charms began to weave across the room. Snared in her web, he drew near, as she perched on the foot of the bed. </p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>The heavy curtain flopped back into place, Gravis nodded and Jebediah tilted his head back and finished the cup. He stepped out into the pouring rain only halfway. He lowered his head and threw his arms open wide.</p><p></p><p>“We have Red Death here!” The sheer audacity of the proclamation was enough to give Sterling, Malchiah, and Grinder pause.</p><p></p><p>“The healer wants no one coming in.” Jebediah continued.</p><p></p><p>Not to be fooled by such a ruse, the Menovians closed several paces. Jebediah regurgitated a watery spew. Sterling stopped in his tracks.</p><p></p><p>“We have plague…” Jebediah added. The rain did not wash the smell of bile away fast enough. The acid burnt his nostrils.</p><p></p><p>Malchiah spoke to his captain, inaudible to Jebediah at this distance. They had obviously noticed the curtains. “Get me the healer.” Sterling commanded.</p><p></p><p>Jebediah’s stomach churned. He heard Gravis going upstairs behind him. The Menovains waited, saturated. Jebediah was reminded of wet gutter rats.</p><p></p><p>‘Elder’ Adair was summoned and drilled. After a satisfactory confirmation, Sterling ordered the house to be quarantined and no one was to come in or out.</p><p></p><p>“If I see any of you outside, we’ll have to kill you on sight. It would be…” Sterling paused and a smile began to creep its way through his lips, “…in the best interest of the hamlet, after all.” With this decree the new alderman turned to seek refuge from the rain elsewhere.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Constance abandoned her protector. Adair, deflated, returned to the window to see the Menovians retreat. His perception may have been exceptional, but the young man’s memory left something to be desired. It was only now that he remembered the curious sight he had seen earlier that day. He made excuses for himself. It was busy, there was a lot going on, it was easy to forget.</p><p></p><p>The young shepherd crossed the hall to Constance’s room; she was nowhere to be seen. Jonas’ grip loosened on the crossbow. Adair, ignoring his peer, peeked out of the curtain through the shutters. There was no sign of activity at the Stilwell house.</p><p></p><p>“Whatcha doin’? Are they still there?” Jonas asked.</p><p></p><p>“Huh? No. I mean, earlier I saw Cricket and Trance.” (2)</p><p></p><p>“Huh?” Jonas knew them well, but not the relevance.</p><p></p><p>“Outside, I was coming here this morning, and I spotted them talking to Canton Myle over at the old Stilwell house. I don’t see them now though.”</p><p></p><p>“What?!”</p><p></p><p>“Yeah, they’re gone. I don’t see him either.” Adair let slide the curtain back into place.</p><p></p><p>“Ergh.”</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>As the dark blanket of night fell over the house tensions began to build. The members of the cabal began to simmer in their own time, stewing over what lay in wait for them outside of their self-made prison. Constance returned to Jonas’ bedside, pandering to his whims.</p><p></p><p>‘Black’ took the opportunity to use cover of night as an excuse to sneak away. Gaining Jebediah’s permission, he used the service entrance in the rear of the house, and stole out into the night. He quickly crossed the grounds and found his way home for the usual nightly melee of dinner.</p><p></p><p>It was his intention to find Tyrus later that evening and tell him what was going on. A few hours later, he did so.</p><p></p><p>Jonas, too, was active that night. He awoke in the wee hours of the morning and silently slipped from beneath the sheets. The floor was cold, but he'd rested long enough. The house was quiet, but for a snore from across the hall. He dressed in silence, grabbed his things, and plodded downstairs. In Wrenchard’s study Jonas found a piece of parchment and scribbled out a note as explanation to Jebediah. In rudimentary scrawl it said, “<em>Jebadyuh, went home. We will figgur out signals soon. Jonas.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Feeling much better, the invigorated militiaman reported to the Breach where he quickly found Harden and Edwin on patrol. The deputy noticed him coming. Instantly, Jonas knew that something was wrong. Harden wore a mask of concern. The low lantern light illuminated his worrisome features, serving to exaggerate Harden's look of distress. </p><p></p><p>“Jonas,” the Breach commander’s normal greetings and pleasantries were gone, “have you seen Jennie Murrow?”</p><p></p><p>Jonas’ spirits were crushed. He held his head low. He shook it in response. </p><p></p><p>“She's missing.” </p><p> </p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><strong>Balem, 26th of Syet – 564 H.E.</strong></span></p><p></p><p></p><p>And the day was rainy still, though not as bad as the previous one. The air grew colder, and the wind a bit stronger while the ground seized up, a bit more resistant. Winter would be coming.</p><p></p><p>In the morning, Adair awoke; something taxed his mind, though he was not sure what. As he rose and dressed to attend his daily routine, he realized what it was. Hurriedly he skipped through the kitchen where the rest of the Bannons devoured breakfast. He knew there would be none left. Throwing open the door and disregarding the rain he trotted out to the barn. It appeared that although he had forgotten to bring the sheep in last night, someone else had not. Thankful to his unknown benefactor, he suspected Van Feicht, he followed the necessary routine returning the herd to pasture.</p><p></p><p>Adair returned to town to hit the pub for some breakfast. Four of the Menovians ate at a table nestled between the fireplaces where they had been sleeping. They seemed to pay him no mind as he approached the bar. The weary shepherd boy sat down finding some comfort in Gus amicable, bold face. The bartender brought him a stout breakfast and drink, chatting with the boy as he ate. Adair was disheartened to hear of Jennie Murrow’s disappearance. He slightly turned his head to ascertain the mood of the remaining Menovian Irregulars. Although a bit grumbly and of a generally surly nature, they did little to belie a plot of kidnapping if they indeed were the conspirators. With this news Adair became much less talkative and consoled himself in the food, which was now suddenly seemed bland.</p><p></p><p>Jonas awoke late, of course, and made his way to the pub, where he found Adair still. He sidled up to the bar next to his peer. Gus brought him a fresh plate of the breakfast, which was still warm. One of Menovians noted the boy's entrance and recognized him as the minstrel who had played for them the night before. He insisted on a tune as they finished their own breakfasts. Having no desire to please the Irregulars requests and feeling a bit anxious, Jonas succumbed to his ego and flatly denied the proposal. Adair braced for the worst. To the young men's surprise, the Menovians swallowed the denial and did not press the issue. Gus was flabbergasted.</p><p></p><p>As Adair waited for Jonas to finish eating, Gus talked incessantly. Obviously the amount of time he was forced to endure the company of the Menovians had begun to weigh on him. He unloaded on the boys. Finally, the weight unbearable, Jonas choked down the rest of his bread and stood. The duo left, unmolested. Outside they separated to search for Jenny.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Jebediah awoke to the still sounds of sanctuary. Donning his arms and armor he set forth to patrol the perimeter. Nephthys would be proud (3). He first found ‘the healer’ Adair tending to his wards. He wished to develop a plot in which he could use herbs to make people sick. Adair quickly nixed the plan, explaining that he had no such products on hand in the manor.</p><p></p><p>Jebediah retired downstairs to continue his preparations of the houses’ defenses as well as wait word from Adair. He would wait a while longer than expected. </p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Jonas started with a visit to the Murrow house. A knock at the door produced the weeping mother. Amidst the sobs and throes of emotion loosed upon the young Fawkes lad, he was able to discern some details of the girls’ disappearance. It seemed that she had left the house, the previous day, with the intention of collecting water from one of the local wells. She had disappeared some time thereafter, mysteriously. He left the mourning mother and began his hunt at the well. </p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Adair instead searched about town, beginning with the Breach. His search did not continue for long. Daring to venture just beyond the safety of the wooden palisade, about 100 yards out his keen eye spotted a dirty, naked body beneath some brush. Only slightly surprised, he returned to find Sturgis.</p><p></p><p>Briefed, the sheriff stopped along the way to collect the burly carpenter and his dog before heading to the Breach, young shepherd in tow.</p><p></p><p>The trio hiked out to the location. Sturgis kept the others about 20 paces back while he approached the brambles. Gerald and Motar kept a vigilant eye for any would-be assailants. Even in daylight it was not unknown for the broken lands of Dralmohir to spew forth some of its nefarious denizens. While the sheriff handled the actual delicacies of wrapping the body up, Adair did his best to divert his curious glance. Still, out of the sidelong glimpse he gleaned what appeared to him as if Jenny had been badly beaten and left, stark naked.</p><p></p><p>With a grunt the sheriff scooped the shrouded corpse, cradled it and stood, wordlessly turning back towards town. Word spread quickly as they passed through. Gerald returned to his duties. Adair followed Sturgis who sent him ahead to Ephraim.</p><p></p><p>The murmur of rumors swept through the hamlet; Jenny had been found. Out beyond the Breach, she had been abducted, dragged, killed. It was the undead. Some were despondent, others thankful; at least she had been found, allowed a proper funeral, never to return and haunt the land of her death.</p><p></p><p>Adair heard the whispers and was still full of suspicion and doubt. The sheriff remained stoic, thinking it prudent not to contradict any of the Kendrits’ beliefs. The young shepherd followed the lead.</p><p></p><p>Sturgis lay the body before the Glory. Ephraim arrived soon after, accompanied by Adair. He delivered prayers for her soul and warded her body with faith. He returned with her to his home to make preparations for the pyre the next day. Sturgis patted Adair on the shoulder and offered condolences in his avuncular fashion, before departing. The young girl’s peer stood there in shock and gazed into the amber glass. It was all so surreal. Was it Ra’s will that his world should seem to be crumbling all around him? Alone in the ominous haze of the overcast day he was left to ponder.</p><p></p><p>--------------------------------------------- </p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, Jonas was about finding answers to his own queries. With little in the way of clues at the well, he decided to turn his search towards the alderman’s house: his number one suspects, Captain Sterling and Sergeant Malchiah. He rapped at the door and waited fro response. The sergeant-at-arms responded and grudgingly showed the minstrel into the comfortable sitting room. It paled in comparison to Wrenchard’s.</p><p></p><p>All the while Jonas’ wandering eye roved about, searching, peering, scouring, leering, for any sign, clue, or indication of a scuffle or anything that might lead him to connect the girl’s disappearance to the Menovians. Nothing. As Sterling played the host, Jonas attempted to ingratiate himself on them, offering his services. Though amused at the idea and flattered by the entertainer’s kindly remarks, he did not oblige. Sensing the futility of the act, Jonas again stole a fleeting look about the room before being shown out.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>His anxiety had gotten the best of him. Paranoia clutched his judgment and began to run rampant with it. For the better part of the day, Jebediah had little else to do but to satiate the tension running through his veins with a constructive outlet. He got creative. The sitting room was cleared of all unnecessary furniture or amenities; that is, anything not already contributing to the forts defenses. Jebediah piled wood by the hearth. Some pieces he began to laboriously saturate in lamp oil in an effort to make it more combustible. In a large barrel he poured the contents of the Valinsons’ wine rack. The great volume of alcohol would be utilized to some degree in one of his plans later. Already he had run through several offensive, defensive, piercing, assault, and flanking scenarios in his head. Currently he concentrated on contriving one for ambush.</p><p></p><p>The other denizens of the house, by now, understood to give him wide berth. It was not until later that afternoon that finally someone dared approach.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Adair received no glorious insight from his de-facto patron deity. Realizing the lateness of the hour, he rose from his kneeling position and collected his thoughts. Jebediah would surely need something by now. He crossed the commons on his way to the Valinsons. It was empty as of late, no one felt the need to frequent the area anymore. It struck him as sad how the center of the town, which used to be teeming with life was now so cold, vacant. Though it was indicative of the current Menovian presence, he knew that this change was not sudden, but progressive.</p><p></p><p>He shook his head and hummed a tune. So much philosophizing was not good for him. He vowed to think of finer things.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Adair’s voice came stifled through the curtains; Jebediah used the fireplace poker to pull the heavy dread drape back ever so slightly at arms length. Indeed he recognized the young shepherd standing, waiting outside.</p><p></p><p>“Hello…?”</p><p></p><p>Jebediah proceeded to the front door and opened it, barely ajar.</p><p></p><p>Adair noticed and called out. “Hello? Do you all need anything in there?”</p><p></p><p>Jebediah was careful not to stand within noticeable sight of the small opening. “Yes, hold on, the healer needs some things,” He called out and closed the door.</p><p></p><p>The door reopened and Adair caught the small sack, which was suddenly hurtled at him. Jebediah’s voice rang out, “There is a list of goods he needs in the bag. <em>Hurry back.</em>” The door closed again, sealing them inside.</p><p></p><p>Adair cast a glance in the direction of the Stilwells’. He saw no sign of the tracker. Proceeding to his namesakes’ house, he was greeted by the healer’s wife who opened the door and invited him in. She queried as to her husband and what he would need. Adair gave her the short list, finding a second note in the sack. It read:</p><p></p><p><em>We are waiting to hear from the healer to see how treatment progresses. We should get together to discuss the situation as soon as you think it is prudent. </em></p><p></p><p>The woman returned with the collection of herbs, oils, and salves, startling the young man. Reflexively he crumpled the note, and concealed it in his balled fist. Thanking her, he rose, stuffed the goods into the sack and left.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Jonas returned home, having heard news of the recovery of Jenny from the butcher. He visited the barn to work on his play. Yet the usual passion that accompanied his favorite distractions was absent.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Adair would return to the Valinson home only one more time that night, but still it was at a longer interval than Jebediah would have liked. The shepherd returned to the pasture to bring in the sheep. He then returned home for dinner. Afterward, he finally found the means and time to scrawl a reply on the same piece of crumpled parchment. It read:</p><p></p><p> <em>Tracker watching house. Should talk by messages, if can. Do you need anything?</em></p><p></p><p>Jebediah found this note most disturbing, as well as the boy’s lacking sense of urgency. He wanted details, information, Menovian numbers and positions. For all he knew they were already gathered outside, ready to storm the building. It was quickly becoming evident that he would need to be more blunt.</p><p></p><p>Hastily, he scrawled out a return note. It was passed with the same sack and practiced paranoia that had been exercised heretofore.</p><p></p><p><em>Well the servants’ entrance is not seen from the Stilwell’s. Wait until night. What is the news from the town and the Menovians? </em></p><p></p><p>Adair took the sack and, growing tired, returned home. Certain that everyone was safe and secure inside the Valinsons’ for now, he figured that he would return first thing in the morning, after taking out the herd, of course. He went to bed without reading the note.</p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><strong>Teflem, 27th of Syet – 564 H.E.</strong></span></p><p></p><p></p><p>Jenny Murrow was put to the pyre in the morning. Dandelions wilted, struggling for life amid the cold cracked earth and approaching season. The funeral fields were cold and sour as the mood of the Kendrits who now filled it. Perhaps wisdom had prevailed in the Menovian camp for none dared show their face at the ceremony.</p><p></p><p>The townsfolk gathered at the pub as was per custom, though their mood was much more subdued than the one following John Fisher’s passing. While the crowd was somewhat diminished on this melancholy morn, the common room once again belonged solely to the Rhondrians. Jonas suspected that Captain Sterling had assigned his remaining Irregulars some duty away from flared tempers. Both ‘Black’ Adair and the young Fawkes spent less time lingering here this morning than on that of any similar occasion. There was still work to be done.</p><p></p><p>Adair took his leave to bring the flock out to pasture. He noted that Van’s flock was not out today. This was not unusual. Here he spent much of the day in solitude, reflecting, pondering, philosophizing.</p><p></p><p>Jonas looked for answers at the bottoms of ale mugs. He found none. Not being fond of a cloudy mind, he ended his search earlier than most other Kendrits and returned home to catch up on some long overdue naps.</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>The air of the Valinson home was stifling. The tension was thick like fog rolling into Haffar’s Port after an attack by Stinging Wind during Elfin summer (4, 5, 6). With still no word fro Adair, Jebediah was growing insufferable. The family took their meals in the cellar; Constance confined herself to the upstairs. Only Gravis seemed to understand the pilgrim, to endure his quirky behavior. Still he was forced to wait, contrivance his only respite. </p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Later, as evening drew near Adair herded up the sheep and began to drive them home. This was an almost effortless task as their conditioning had been ingrained over myriad days. He simply followed, as he did most days, when he would get them home, his only chore was to secure the barn door behind them.</p><p></p><p>Yet, on this afternoon, he drew closer to town than usual, straying from behind the flock. They continued without their warden.</p><p></p><p>Not far from the Valinson home he spied an amusing sight. Drawn by the potential he closed the distance quickly. It seemed that Cricket and Trance Miller had their eye on the Stillwell home. He approached from behind, as quietly as he could.</p><p></p><p>The girls were cowering behind the corner of a nearby house and kept poking their heads out around the corner. They would recoil with a start, giggle, and point to one another. They seemed to be having some debate amongst themselves, in once hushed tones.</p><p></p><p>“What’s going on?” Adair asked, startling them.</p><p></p><p>Cricket was not amused. “Adair!” She berated, “don’t do that!”</p><p></p><p>Trance was alarmed but amused. She always enjoyed when her older sister lost her composure.</p><p></p><p>“Well,” he asked. “What is it?” He peered around the corner. They had a clear vantage point of the Stilwell home. Smoke emanated from the chimney. He knew who was inside, but was still a little confused.</p><p></p><p>“Have you seen the new stranger?” asked Trance rhetorically. “Isn’t he cute?”</p><p></p><p>Cricket nodded her agreement. Adair was overwhelmed. He suppressed the urge to laugh.</p><p></p><p>“He’s gorgeous,” added Cricket.</p><p></p><p>Adair understood that the tracker was good-looking, but couldn’t quite understand the appeal. Was it the mystery? It dawned on him how simple these girls must really be. Weren’t they talking about the same man? A Menovian, one of the ilk who had been responsible for their older brother’s death. </p><p></p><p>Adair was lost in thought. The girls did not wait for any contribution on his part. They continued without him, ignoring him, as they mostly always did.</p><p></p><p>“He likes me better,” boasted Trance.</p><p></p><p>“No he doesn’t. You’re still too young for him. I’m more his type, prettier and older,” Cricket responded.</p><p></p><p>They heckled each other, the volume steadily increasing, occasionally daring to venture another glance.</p><p></p><p>“Why don’t we ask him?” Adair finally offered.</p><p></p><p>Both girls gasped. They now teamed against him. “No, no, no, no, no.” Their unison was perfect.</p><p></p><p>“You wouldn’t dare,” Cricket scolded.</p><p></p><p>“Don’t. You’d better not. Please…” Trance begged.</p><p></p><p>A devilish grin crept across the young shepherd’s lips. “Oh no? Why not?”</p><p></p><p>They were without response. He boldly stepped out from their clandestine corner and started towards the house.</p><p></p><p>They waved him back. He could not hear them as they once again whispered, but their squeamish flailing and embarrassed expressions were enough to give him sadistic pleasure as he drew near Canton’s temporary refuge. </p><p></p><p>--------------------------------------------- </p><p></p><p>A knock at the old Stilwells’ door produced the expected. Canton Myle opened the door and beamed, offering a firm handshake to the young shepherd boy. The dominating figure properly introduced himself and cordially offered Adair a seat. He poured steeped herbs into a tin travel cup for the boy.</p><p></p><p>Adair was a bit taken aback by the man’s pleasant nature. He sipped his beverage. He let his guard down. In the corner he noticed an impromptu perch of some sort, a leather thong-like sling suspended from its branch.</p><p></p><p>“That’s for my falcon.” Canton offered.</p><p></p><p>“Oh? You have a falcon?” Adair was curious. He had never seen one up close before. Tyrus generally avoided hunting the birds of prey.</p><p></p><p>“Sure. He’s a companion of sorts. Kinda like your companions,” he gestured with a nod out of a half-shuttered window, “but mine happens to be a bird.”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, that’s neat.” Adair was genuinely interested. He still wondered what the leather string-sling was.</p><p></p><p>Canton sipped his beverage and waited.</p><p></p><p>Adair noticed the silence. “Oh, yeah. They uh, I guess they think you’re cute.”</p><p></p><p>“How charming.”</p><p></p><p>“Yeah.” Adair was a little confused as to how he had gotten himself into the awkward situation that this was now turning out to be. He cursed his drive to always impress the girls.</p><p></p><p>“Do you have any other companions? You seem to keep strange company. Not just your peers I see.” Canton was cool and coercing.</p><p></p><p>Adair offered nothing. He began to think, ponder his answers, consider what he did and did not know, think Canton knew, or wanted to know.</p><p></p><p>“Have you heard the names Pritchard, or Horatio, or Minerva?” (7)</p><p></p><p>“Nope.” Adair was honest; he focused on what he had come here for. “So, do you think that I can tell them which one you think is cuter?”</p><p></p><p>Canton was happy to oblige. “Well, Adair, both of the young women are adorable. Though I’m afraid that in my line of work I would find it an inopportune time to pursue any romance that is to truly endure. You can let them know that I am flattered and would be lucky to share company with either one of them.”</p><p></p><p>“Um, OK.” Adair rose. Canton Rose with him. He towered over the young Kendrit. Adair noticed the man’s full musculature as he leaned forward to open the door for his guest. He was impressed. He was sure that Canton, broad-shouldered as he was, might have even bested Gerald at a bout of wrestling.</p><p></p><p>“Thanks for stopping by,” Canton called after the young man. “Stop back any time.”</p><p></p><p>Adair nodded and walked to where the girls waited anxiously.</p><p></p><p>They dragged him around the corner as soon as he was close enough to reach.</p><p></p><p>They interrogated him thoroughly. For the sake of mischief, he did so enjoy being in control of the situation, he parlayed the conversation into a coy twist. He wished to keep the two girls competitive with each other. Adding a bit of his own embellishments to the conversation that he had had with the tracker, Cricket and Trance became more argumentative.</p><p></p><p>He left them there, bickering and stealing furtive looks around the corner at their would-be suitor. </p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Adair returned home. He closed the barn door behind the flock. Having been so close to the Valinson home he remembered that he had not had any word from Jebediah today. He hurriedly scrawled out a note on the crumpled parchment, which he now read. If he were quick, he would be able to make it back home in time for dinner. He recalled the plan that Jonas had been working on in the pub earlier that morning. The young militiaman had acquired a bullseye lantern in his duties and intended to use that as his signal to the Valinson house. Adair now knew that he had no indication of the intricacies of Jonas’ plan.</p><p></p><p>He stuffed the note into the delivery sac and bolted from the house. Within minutes he was hurtling it towards the unlocked entryway of Fort Valinson. Adair watched as a hand reached out to drag it into the door, which closed again just as quickly. And he was off, realizing that he hadn’t eaten a thing all day.</p><p></p><p>During his dash home he happened to run into Jonas who was on his way to an early militia detail. They exchanged few words.</p><p></p><p>“If you see Crick and Trance, tell them to get inside before any Menovians catch them,” Adair warned.</p><p></p><p>“Yeah,” Jonas understood. “If anything happens to them their father will totally lose his sh*t.”</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Jebediah opened the sack, muttering to himself about the immaturity of children. He was sorely disappointed with Adair’s lack of responsibility. He cleared the papers scribbled with his sketches and battle-maps off of Wrenchard’s desk. He sat in the chair and read the note.</p><p></p><p><em>Can’t come too often. Too risky. If you see bullseye lantern on curtains, we are found out. Suspect Menovians killed Jenny Murrow. Put her on pyre this morning. Menovians are surly.</em></p><p></p><p>Jebediah slammed his palm down into the desktop, the parchment crumpled beneath it. He stood seething.</p><p></p><p>“What is this <em>boy</em> thinking?” He couldn’t help the outburst.</p><p></p><p>There were too many questions now racing through his mind. He only received more questions, no definable answers. Who was Jenny Murrow? Why is it too risky to come by? Why do you need to use a lantern for signaling? And what does it mean that the Menovians are surly? More or less so, or the same, or was it an observation? </p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>After dinner, Adair went to visit his very dear friend Hazel Tatum. He had been ignoring her for too long already. He knew that she lacked the romantic interest in him that he reciprocated towards her. He secretly hoped that by agreeing to undertake this mission of Wrenchard’s, his love for her would no longer go unrequited.</p><p></p><p>She was glad to see him, as was her mother, who always seemed fond of ‘Black’ Adair. They enjoyed some time together, though sad, as Hazel remembered Jenny to the young shepherd. He hadn’t realized how hard she would be taking the girl’s death. Adair did his best to console her.</p><p></p><p>Time passed quickly, as it always seemed to whenever Adair could find time to spend alone with his love, and Mrs. Tatum ushered the boy out the door and towards home. He bid them farewell and slipped out into the night.</p><p></p><p>Adair did not go directly home as the responsible mother had implied that he should. Instead, he crossed town towards Wrenchard’s house. Skulking around back, he rapped at the servants’ entrance and was allowed entry.</p><p></p><p>Once inside, Adair learned of what Jebediah had been working on, learned of his plan to ambush the Menovians in three different places simultaneously. He called it the ‘trilogy attack’ and contrived of uses for all his preparations in its implementation. Due to the assault of information, Adair was overwhelmed. He barely managed to explain the details surrounding the disappearance of Jenny Murrow.</p><p></p><p>“Um, Sturgis is not gonna like this,” the young man dared offer a contradictory opinion.</p><p></p><p>“Well, we’ll see if he has any other plans for protecting the teenage girls of this town.” Obviously, Jebediah too must have seen Cricket and Trance at their tomfoolery none too far away. “Or, whether he is willing to sacrifice <em>them</em> as well.”</p><p></p><p>Adair could see that Jebediah was heated. He swore that he could see the man’s veins pulsing at the temples of his forehead. He too realized that <em>Welcome Winter</em> was tomorrow, but still had no indication as to what the Menovians may be plotting, if anything.</p><p></p><p>“Well, I thought that Welcome Winter was just a day to sacrifice some lambs and chickens to Apep. Y’know, thanks for the good harvest and all that.” He admitted that his lack of knowledge on religious matters and concerns was overwhelming.</p><p></p><p>“Aarfgh!” Jebediah was at his wit’s end. Everyone in Kendrick constantly proved to be a simpleton. “<strong><em>Setites</em></strong> don’t sacrifice <em>lambs</em>! They sacrifice <em>people</em>!”</p><p></p><p>Adair recoiled from the spray of spittle spewing from the corners of Jebediah’s mouth. He only nodded his understanding.</p><p></p><p>With no further arguments, Jebediah led Adair into Wrenchard’s study. It had been converted into a tactical headquarters, a bastion of military thought. Spreading his design plans about the desk, Jebediah began to elucidate. Adair nodded at the necessary intervals. He was certain that none of this was going to work.</p><p></p><p>Some time later, Adair snuck out to find the others of the cabal. Though he expressed misgivings, he agreed to inform them of the plan. Jebediah could not stress enough the need for a sense of urgency. There was not much time left until dawn.</p><p></p><p>Adair was able to find only Jonas. Truthfully, he did not desire to wander into the hills in search of Tyrus well after dark. He knew that he might not ever make it back. Jonas absorbed what he could of the plan, Adair’s details proved to be a little sketchy, if not miscommunicated. Agreeing with Jebediah’s sentiment that the Menovians may yet be up to no good, Jonas began to develop a plan of his own.</p><p></p><p>Jonas made off in the direction of the alderman’s house, unable to as of yet inform Adair of the plan he was still conceiving.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Adair, fraught with questions, was confused, overwhelmed and above all, suddenly very lonely. He found himself drawn in the direction of the Glory. Softy, he approached Ephraim’s door. Inside lay the one man who he suspected may yet be able to yet offer him some comfort. The young man knocked gently, he was feeling guilty for disturbing the cleric’s peace.</p><p></p><p>A few minutes passed. He shivered with the waft of the chill wind. This was stupid, he should leave, he thought.</p><p></p><p>As he turned his back to do so, a muffled cough and a soft plod of feet emanated faintly from inside. Adair’s ears ever attentive, he turned back to face the door in time to see it slowly open. Ephraim rubbed the dust from his eyes. Adair waited.</p><p></p><p>Ephraim required a minute for clarity. He then stood aside and gestured the boy in. Adair welcomed the invitation. They sat in the simple room, closely by the hearth. Ephraim offered the young man a warm blanket to ward off the cold. He produced a kettle from the fire and poured his ward a warm cup of mulled wine.</p><p></p><p>“What ails you my boy?” He finally asked when he could see that Adair was feeling a bit more comfortable.</p><p></p><p>That was it. That was all it took. Adair’s defenses were down and he opened up to the priest, completely. He found himself talking, a lot. The wine helped. It felt good to be heard for once, listened to. He had so many questions, so little faith, or knowledge, or wisdom. Finally he collapsed into Ephraim’s arms, sobbing, not completely able to understand the cause of the outpouring of emotion, but knowing that it felt good.</p><p></p><p>Four cups later, he felt a little better. He was relieved. He now understood Welcome Winter to be a holy day committed to Apep, as well as Ra (8) and that he should have no fear. It occurred to Adair that faith was a powerful instrument, a great gift, and an ultimate blessing. </p><p></p><p>Though it was late, Ephraim was glad for the company. As Adair left, the older man was sure to invite the boy back to attend services in the morning. Adair thought that maybe he would do just that.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>Elsewhere, Jonas situated himself about midway between the alderman’s house and the Tatum house.</p><p>He had a plan. It was his contention that if he could discern whether or not the Menovians were in the alderman’s house, then he may be able to conclude that they may or may not be plotting some nefarious acts. Due to the proximity of the Tatum house to the alderman’s, Jonas assumed it to be likely that Hazel, being the closest young female, would be their likely candidate for sacrifice. It was a stretch.</p><p></p><p>He needed to know if Hazel was still safely asleep in her bed. He procured a few small stones from the ground and lobbed them at her shuttered bedroom window. There came no response. Not to be dissuaded from his brilliance, he elaborated on it instead. </p><p></p><p>He unslung his lute, took a knee and began to serenade the young woman’s window, loudly. In dramatic motions and crescendos he lilted his head sideways, in the direction of the alderman’s house, hoping to disturb any foul rites that may already be underway within.</p><p></p><p>“How can I tell you that I luh-uh-uh-uh-ve you? I luh-uh-uh-uh-ve you, I luh-uh-uh-uh-ve you, but I can’t think of right words to say. I long to tell you that I luh-uh-uh-uh-ve you. I luh-uh-uh-uh-ve you, but the words just blow away; just blow away…”</p><p></p><p>As expected, he did receive attention. Unwanted attention. He had foolishly forgotten how close his shenanigans were to the cooper’s house.</p><p></p><p>Pollack bellowed out into the night air, “<strong><em>FAWKES!</em></strong> I’m gonna getcha this time Fawkes. This is the last straw!”</p><p></p><p>In an instant Jonas was up and on the move. He could outrun the cooper, he knew, for this wouldn’t be the first time. And contrary to popular opinion, he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Fueled by rage, Pollack was quicker than the minstrel expected and he skipped a few beats as he circled the Tatum house.</p><p></p><p>Adair, returning from his cathartic session with Ephraim, heard the commotion. He hurried in the direction of his love’s house.</p><p></p><p>Jonas circled the house two more times, both of which still failed to bring Hazel to the window. He was beginning to suspect the worst, except when Adair arrived. Jonas came barreling around the corner as the cooper continued pursuit, and was surprised to see Adair approaching just as fast, with what looked to be as much rage.</p><p></p><p>Jonas, while continuing his serenade, redirected his path to avoid both his old pursuer and his new one. His course took him around the alderman’s house instead. If not winded, he would have chuckled at his dumb luck, his brilliance. Obviously something was already afoot, this way he had a more excusable reason to disturb the evil rituals he was sure were going on inside.</p><p></p><p>Only one pass about the alderman’s house was sufficient to produce results. And for it Jonas was glad, he was beginning to tire.</p><p></p><p>Sergeant Malchiah stood in the open door of the alderman’s home. His armor glinted in the waxing moonlight. He leaned on his spear and commanded them all to, “HALT!”</p><p></p><p>The action stopped. Jonas was triangulated between Adair, Malchiah, and Pollack. In the open between the buildings, he felt exposed. He was sure that this might indeed be the end of him.</p><p></p><p>His salvation emerged at the window. Hazel cast open her shutters now that all was quieted outside, and peered out into the night. Jonas spotted her instantly.</p><p></p><p>“This song was from Adair,” he sang out as loudly and melodically as he could, before taking his exit cue and sprinting off while everyone else distractedly looked at the girl.</p><p></p><p>Her eyes fell on Adair in a whole new light.</p><p></p><p>He blushed.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p><strong>Notes:</strong></p><p></p><p>(1) – One of the three catastrophic plagues that roam Aquerra is the red wasting disease. The other two of its siblings are the black and yellow strains. There are rumors of a blue variety, but these are heretofore unconfirmed.</p><p></p><p>(2) – Mahlon and Doris Miller had a 17-year old son, Cort, who was killed by the Menovians when they first arrived in Kendrick during their incursion into Rhondria. Cort, who was betrothed to the daughter of the kennel-master, put up a terrible fuss and started his last brawl. The Millers’ two daughters, Cricket (now 16) and Trance (now 15), had to help their mother restrain Mahlon from getting himself killed as well. He has been outwardly spoken against the Menovians ever since.</p><p></p><p>(3) – Nephthys is the goddess of bravery, freedom and courage. Temples, called sanctuaries, dedicated to her are generally forts, impregnable fortresses designed to discourage those who’d seek escaped slaves from pursuing them within these holy hiding places. As a rule, any who seek asylum within a sanctuary are awarded it. </p><p>. </p><p>(4) – Haffar’s Port is an independent isle geographically situated between Herman Land and Thricia. Thusly it is an ideal port of call for sea-goers traveling between the two countries. Haffar’s port has an infamous reputation as home to pirate, ne’er-do-wells and slave-traders.</p><p></p><p>(5) – Stinging Wind is perhaps the most well-known if not only dragon active in Aquerra. She is at best guess, a mature white dragon that is presumed brilliant in her attacks on sea going vessels; few of which have ever left survivors to tell the widely varied tales. She is known to claim the waters surrounding Haffar’s Port between Herman Land and Thricia, reaping tribute from them between late Ese and early Prem each year. </p><p></p><p>(6) – Elfin summer falls in late Ese to early Sek. It is the unseasonably warm period that marks the last days of autumn. Rarely is it more than a few days long, but it does cause curious effects on local weather conditions and foliage. </p><p></p><p>(7) – Pronounced Miner<em>w</em>a.</p><p></p><p>(8) – Coincidentally, Welcome Winter, the last day of Syet also happens to mark the beginning of the Great Fast of Ra. On these nine days priests of the Sun god fast (only drinking liquids) to mourn the coming of winter.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Rastfar, post: 973530, member: 9596"] [b]session 5[/b] [b]session #5[/b] Both men stooped to shield their unfocused stares from the fat droplets that doused them. One’s slouch was more pronounced due to hunch natural to his stature, yet he remained taller than his younger counterpart. Upon returning to the Valinson home, Jebediah had indeed begun to solidify a plan in his mind, which he now relayed to ‘black’ Adair as they shook the rain and cold out of their cloaks in the foyer. From the sitting room they heard a ‘thud’ as Gravis threw another log onto the fire on his way into the kitchen. They sat down in the comfort that the warm sitting room still offered. Jebediah figured that with the aid of a disguise he could make himself appear as Wrenchard. In discussion, the tentative plan changed to Jebediah posing as a sick and weakened Wrenchard. Ultimately, they’d decided to say that Wrenchard was indeed ill but conferring all his authority and responsibility to Jebediah for the duration of the period. This would be passed in a forged letter. Adair took issue with the final part, but liked the sound of the plan as a whole. “I’d probably skip the letter because if you were really sick – could you write a letter?” It stood to reason. They retired to Wrenchard’s study where, with Jebediah’s guidance, Adair took dictation. Gravis followed in with mulled wine. Jebediah rifled the desk and found a copy of Wrenchard’s signature. He began practicing the unique loops and hesitations of the characters. He copied it over and over again while spewing the letters content. Finally, it read: [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif]To the honourable folk of Kendrick, Please extend all my privileges and responsibilities to my manservant, Jebediah Groomer, for the duration of my illness. This is most important when I am putting all my available resources at the disposal of the new alderman. Sincerely, [/FONT] [FONT=Book Antiqua]Wrenchard Valinson[/FONT] Adair blew the ink dry. Jebediah left the young pupil to peruse the letter and went upstairs to harass the resting militiaman some more. The door hinges squeaked as if in pain, responding to Jebediah’s forceful kick, the door flew wide. Jonas rolled over lazily. “I know you’re too [i]tired[/i] to do anything today, but I wanted to let you know that if this plan doesn’t work, we’re probably all going to die.” Jebediah sneered at the sleepy-headed Jonas. “Well,…” Jonas opened an eye and yawned, stretching his arms wide. He didn’t cover his mouth. “Somewhere between the not working part and the killing part,” Jonas fluffed his pillow, rolled over on it and closed his eye, smacking his lips. “Come and wake me if it comes to that.” Jebediah recoiled, disgusted. He slammed the door behind him as he exited. He earned a sound ‘shooshing’ from the elder Adair at the end of the hall by Wrenchard’s bedside, for his efforts. There was a firm knock on the door. Gravis attended the duty, Jebediah hearing the noises moved down the hall to the top of the stairs. Adair poked his head from the study. The manservant showed in the sheriff and the clergyman. Sturgis looked up to the pilgrim descending the staircase. “I have an idea.” He spotted Noelle down the hall in the kitchen with a tray of empty dishware. “Maybe we should retire to the study.” They did so. In the relative privacy, Jebediah first explained the plan that he and Adair had been working on developing. The shepherd handed the cleric the letter. Ephraim read it aloud. Jebediah and Adair waited expectantly. “Hrerm. That’s kinda like my idea.” Sturgis said. “But I was thinking that someone could masquerade as the alderman. Who better to depose Sterling’s authority, and I’d be certain that he’d never met our alderman. We’d just need someone familiar with a bit of pomp and circumstance, the qualities of nobility, and Rhondrian and Menovian law.” Ephraim nodded in agreement. Jebediah and Adair looked at one another. The idea registered in their eyes; why hadn’t they thought of that. Following this possibility Jebediah added. “I have a disguise kit.” Baffled, Sturgis asked, “Really? Why?” Jebediah’s admission raised a few eyebrows and induced skeptical looks. He offered explanation, “Uh, for minstrel shows.” Sturgis’ communal duties took hold, “You don’t look like a minstrel.” “I’m not, but I have done some acting.” “Where did you learn that?” Sturgis may have been rural but knew such talents required time, money, training, and skill. “From actors…” Jebediah remained vague. “Were you part of a troupe?” “I used to be,” Jebediah offered. “Oh? The Jingle Jangle Players?” Sturgis drew on his only knowledge of such a group. “I think time is short for this,” Jebediah veered, feeling the growing frown of Ephraim’s penetrating gaze. “I will be glad to tell you the whole story at some other time.” The conversation shifted, Jebediah’s angst eased, he continued, “If I am going to pretend to be the alderman I will need a servant to shine my armor…” Adair put his left index finger to his lips and pat his right hand on the speakers arm, bidding him pause. He had heard footsteps hurrying away in the hall, just outside. “We were overheard.” He explained. Jebediah stood and opened the door. There he saw Gravis hurrying off down the hall toward the kitchen. “Gravis!” He hollered reprimanding the faithful servant. “…uh…I don’t know how to polish armor, sir.” He called over his shoulder and turned around the corner. The task fell to Constance and Adair who found space for the chore on the dining room table. Jebediah set about his façade, applying oils, powders, coal and resin. Ephraim and the sheriff waited and sipped mulled wine. It occurred to Jebediah that the alderman would have a contingent of men, and thusly he would too. Jonas was still sleeping upstairs and he figured this would be a good place to begin acquiring retainers. --------------------------------------------- Jonas cringed from the light that persisted in creeping through the minute cracks and imperfections of the shutters covering the windows. Water began to collect below on the floor. His respite was the soothing harmony of the soft patter of rain on the roof, until the door opened. The figure standing in the frame was not Jebediah Groomer. The silhouette at least was not the wayward traveler that Jonas knew; though there were similarities. The taller man entered the room surrounded by an air of regality. He stood erect, towering over the bed, boasting the full measure of a nobleman. Jonas cracked an eyelid and found his focus on the hilt of a sword. The pommel he recognized. He turned his ogle upward. Full silver-speckled sideburns covered the man’s cheeks and jaw line. A long moustache stretched over his upper lip and ran down the corners of his mouth to meet them near his chin, which remained exposed, though stubbly. His hair was not as dark and was pushed back from his rutted brow, behind his ears. Jebediah looked down at the lazy militiaman. He kicked the bedpost, hard. “Get up. I need you.” Jonas recognized the voice and became defensive, surly. Though the stoop and hunch had vanished, the recognition was there. “What?” He whined. “You need to pose as a retainer.” There was a natural tone of authority and command in his voice. “What?” “I’m now going to pretend to be your alderman and I need retainers.” “What?” Jebediah glowered. “Sterling will recognize me. I played for them at the pub last night. Besides, you look nothing like the alderman.” The excuses came hard and fast. “That may be, but the Menovians won’t know that.” “That plan is stupid.” “Do you have a better idea?” He asked rhetorically. Jebediah’s patience was wearing thin. “It’ll never work.” “Look, if you’re not going to help, then you can’t stay here loafing about. This is not your sanctuary. You’ll have to leave.” “You just got here three days ago, how’d you get in charge?” Jonas griped. Gravis looked on from the hallway, smirking. Jebediah waited. Jonas, annoyed, looked to Gravis for confirmation. “Well, as the master is infirmed, Mr. Groomer, his formal guest and only other capable man of the house, yes. Yes, he is.” The manservant reported dutifully with relish. The Fawkes boy balked and pulled the covers up to his neck. Jebediah ignored the action of defiance and began to outline his plan. Jonas shook his head disagreeably. “Why are you shaking your head? It must be muddled. Get out of bed.” “My head is always muddled.” Jonas conceded. “I’m not getting out of bed, I can’t help you.” “What would you have me do?” Jebediah asked. “Why don’t you tell them Mr. Valinson’s sick?” Jonas shook his head, patronizing, and rolled over. “It’s too late for that; they’ll demand to see him…” Jonas interrupted, “Not if he’s ill. Grievously sick.” His tenor was condescending; this new plot registered on Jebediah’s wizened face. Jonas continued, “Fatally ill. A plague.” From behind his back Jonas could feel the man’s hesitation. His muscles again began to relax. His breathing slowed. The silence signaled his momentary victory. Jebediah realized his inaction, hovering there by the bedside. “Well, you’ve bought yourself some more sleep.” He intentionally spoke loudly to be cantankerous and pulled the door closed on his way out. --------------------------------------------- Minutes later Constance, ‘elder’ Adair, Kelize, ‘black’ Adair, Gravis, Ephraim, and Sturgis were all gathered in the downstairs dining room where ‘alderman’ Jebediah summarized the new plan. Time was running short. They’d hang the black curtains in warning and claim a wasting disease had beset them: the red one. (1) The group broke, everyone attending to details. Sturgis and Ephraim crept out the back way while there was still time. ‘Black’ Adair remained behind to help out, breaking down some of Fort Valinson’s defenses. Jebediah shed his current disguise and returned to normal, though with some makeup assistance to make his skin pallid. Gravis gathered some of Wrenchard’s bloodied sheets and piled them in a basket, which was conveniently placed by the front door, for removal. ‘Elder’ Adair concocted a brew, mostly salt and water, to induce vomiting. As the expected arrival drew near, Jebediah found himself down in the sitting room with the young shepherd hanging the last of the ominous drapery. “Do you believe in times of war that men have to do thing s they might not do otherwise?” Adair was a bit confused by the question, but was used to listening. For some reason people always felt comfortable opening up to him. “I guess. Why?” “Because if this plan succeeds,” Jebediah finished hanging the last curtain. “And we succeed in getting them to leave us alone for a little while, we may need to find a way to block the exits of the alderman’s house with them inside. And burn it down.” He sipped from a cup, which held the herbalist’s briny potion. Adair was frustrated, “Why does everyone wanna burn down the alderman’s house?” --------------------------------------------- Elsewhere, Constance tried to take refuge in her appointed guest. She was only mildly surprised to find her room occupied. Jonas, expecting another visit from her sibling, regained modesty. He flushed as she sat on the bedside and poured him some more water. Peering behind, he noticed that she had pulled the door closed behind her. She wiped his brow with a clean cloth. Noting the crossbow, she loaded it for him and slid it under the sheets. He tensed with anticipation. “Uh, don’t you think you should leave that door open some?” Jonas said to her, nervously. “Oh, why?” “Uh, uh…`cause your brother is gonna be mad at me,” the young fool chirped weakly. “It will be fine,” she replied, smiling broadly and batting her eyelashes. After some idle banter (most of which consisted of Constance’s self-deprecation and need of stalwart protectors), she left. Jonas was agog. He was curious as to her sudden interest and fawning. Constance crossed the hall to her brother’s quarters, closing doors along the way. Inside the room ‘black’ Adair waited, listening for any sign of action downstairs. Constance’s wiles and feminine charms began to weave across the room. Snared in her web, he drew near, as she perched on the foot of the bed. --------------------------------------------- The heavy curtain flopped back into place, Gravis nodded and Jebediah tilted his head back and finished the cup. He stepped out into the pouring rain only halfway. He lowered his head and threw his arms open wide. “We have Red Death here!” The sheer audacity of the proclamation was enough to give Sterling, Malchiah, and Grinder pause. “The healer wants no one coming in.” Jebediah continued. Not to be fooled by such a ruse, the Menovians closed several paces. Jebediah regurgitated a watery spew. Sterling stopped in his tracks. “We have plague…” Jebediah added. The rain did not wash the smell of bile away fast enough. The acid burnt his nostrils. Malchiah spoke to his captain, inaudible to Jebediah at this distance. They had obviously noticed the curtains. “Get me the healer.” Sterling commanded. Jebediah’s stomach churned. He heard Gravis going upstairs behind him. The Menovains waited, saturated. Jebediah was reminded of wet gutter rats. ‘Elder’ Adair was summoned and drilled. After a satisfactory confirmation, Sterling ordered the house to be quarantined and no one was to come in or out. “If I see any of you outside, we’ll have to kill you on sight. It would be…” Sterling paused and a smile began to creep its way through his lips, “…in the best interest of the hamlet, after all.” With this decree the new alderman turned to seek refuge from the rain elsewhere. --------------------------------------------- Constance abandoned her protector. Adair, deflated, returned to the window to see the Menovians retreat. His perception may have been exceptional, but the young man’s memory left something to be desired. It was only now that he remembered the curious sight he had seen earlier that day. He made excuses for himself. It was busy, there was a lot going on, it was easy to forget. The young shepherd crossed the hall to Constance’s room; she was nowhere to be seen. Jonas’ grip loosened on the crossbow. Adair, ignoring his peer, peeked out of the curtain through the shutters. There was no sign of activity at the Stilwell house. “Whatcha doin’? Are they still there?” Jonas asked. “Huh? No. I mean, earlier I saw Cricket and Trance.” (2) “Huh?” Jonas knew them well, but not the relevance. “Outside, I was coming here this morning, and I spotted them talking to Canton Myle over at the old Stilwell house. I don’t see them now though.” “What?!” “Yeah, they’re gone. I don’t see him either.” Adair let slide the curtain back into place. “Ergh.” --------------------------------------------- As the dark blanket of night fell over the house tensions began to build. The members of the cabal began to simmer in their own time, stewing over what lay in wait for them outside of their self-made prison. Constance returned to Jonas’ bedside, pandering to his whims. ‘Black’ took the opportunity to use cover of night as an excuse to sneak away. Gaining Jebediah’s permission, he used the service entrance in the rear of the house, and stole out into the night. He quickly crossed the grounds and found his way home for the usual nightly melee of dinner. It was his intention to find Tyrus later that evening and tell him what was going on. A few hours later, he did so. Jonas, too, was active that night. He awoke in the wee hours of the morning and silently slipped from beneath the sheets. The floor was cold, but he'd rested long enough. The house was quiet, but for a snore from across the hall. He dressed in silence, grabbed his things, and plodded downstairs. In Wrenchard’s study Jonas found a piece of parchment and scribbled out a note as explanation to Jebediah. In rudimentary scrawl it said, “[I]Jebadyuh, went home. We will figgur out signals soon. Jonas.[/I]” Feeling much better, the invigorated militiaman reported to the Breach where he quickly found Harden and Edwin on patrol. The deputy noticed him coming. Instantly, Jonas knew that something was wrong. Harden wore a mask of concern. The low lantern light illuminated his worrisome features, serving to exaggerate Harden's look of distress. “Jonas,” the Breach commander’s normal greetings and pleasantries were gone, “have you seen Jennie Murrow?” Jonas’ spirits were crushed. He held his head low. He shook it in response. “She's missing.” [size=3][b]Balem, 26th of Syet – 564 H.E.[/b][/size] And the day was rainy still, though not as bad as the previous one. The air grew colder, and the wind a bit stronger while the ground seized up, a bit more resistant. Winter would be coming. In the morning, Adair awoke; something taxed his mind, though he was not sure what. As he rose and dressed to attend his daily routine, he realized what it was. Hurriedly he skipped through the kitchen where the rest of the Bannons devoured breakfast. He knew there would be none left. Throwing open the door and disregarding the rain he trotted out to the barn. It appeared that although he had forgotten to bring the sheep in last night, someone else had not. Thankful to his unknown benefactor, he suspected Van Feicht, he followed the necessary routine returning the herd to pasture. Adair returned to town to hit the pub for some breakfast. Four of the Menovians ate at a table nestled between the fireplaces where they had been sleeping. They seemed to pay him no mind as he approached the bar. The weary shepherd boy sat down finding some comfort in Gus amicable, bold face. The bartender brought him a stout breakfast and drink, chatting with the boy as he ate. Adair was disheartened to hear of Jennie Murrow’s disappearance. He slightly turned his head to ascertain the mood of the remaining Menovian Irregulars. Although a bit grumbly and of a generally surly nature, they did little to belie a plot of kidnapping if they indeed were the conspirators. With this news Adair became much less talkative and consoled himself in the food, which was now suddenly seemed bland. Jonas awoke late, of course, and made his way to the pub, where he found Adair still. He sidled up to the bar next to his peer. Gus brought him a fresh plate of the breakfast, which was still warm. One of Menovians noted the boy's entrance and recognized him as the minstrel who had played for them the night before. He insisted on a tune as they finished their own breakfasts. Having no desire to please the Irregulars requests and feeling a bit anxious, Jonas succumbed to his ego and flatly denied the proposal. Adair braced for the worst. To the young men's surprise, the Menovians swallowed the denial and did not press the issue. Gus was flabbergasted. As Adair waited for Jonas to finish eating, Gus talked incessantly. Obviously the amount of time he was forced to endure the company of the Menovians had begun to weigh on him. He unloaded on the boys. Finally, the weight unbearable, Jonas choked down the rest of his bread and stood. The duo left, unmolested. Outside they separated to search for Jenny. --------------------------------------------- Jebediah awoke to the still sounds of sanctuary. Donning his arms and armor he set forth to patrol the perimeter. Nephthys would be proud (3). He first found ‘the healer’ Adair tending to his wards. He wished to develop a plot in which he could use herbs to make people sick. Adair quickly nixed the plan, explaining that he had no such products on hand in the manor. Jebediah retired downstairs to continue his preparations of the houses’ defenses as well as wait word from Adair. He would wait a while longer than expected. --------------------------------------------- Jonas started with a visit to the Murrow house. A knock at the door produced the weeping mother. Amidst the sobs and throes of emotion loosed upon the young Fawkes lad, he was able to discern some details of the girls’ disappearance. It seemed that she had left the house, the previous day, with the intention of collecting water from one of the local wells. She had disappeared some time thereafter, mysteriously. He left the mourning mother and began his hunt at the well. --------------------------------------------- Adair instead searched about town, beginning with the Breach. His search did not continue for long. Daring to venture just beyond the safety of the wooden palisade, about 100 yards out his keen eye spotted a dirty, naked body beneath some brush. Only slightly surprised, he returned to find Sturgis. Briefed, the sheriff stopped along the way to collect the burly carpenter and his dog before heading to the Breach, young shepherd in tow. The trio hiked out to the location. Sturgis kept the others about 20 paces back while he approached the brambles. Gerald and Motar kept a vigilant eye for any would-be assailants. Even in daylight it was not unknown for the broken lands of Dralmohir to spew forth some of its nefarious denizens. While the sheriff handled the actual delicacies of wrapping the body up, Adair did his best to divert his curious glance. Still, out of the sidelong glimpse he gleaned what appeared to him as if Jenny had been badly beaten and left, stark naked. With a grunt the sheriff scooped the shrouded corpse, cradled it and stood, wordlessly turning back towards town. Word spread quickly as they passed through. Gerald returned to his duties. Adair followed Sturgis who sent him ahead to Ephraim. The murmur of rumors swept through the hamlet; Jenny had been found. Out beyond the Breach, she had been abducted, dragged, killed. It was the undead. Some were despondent, others thankful; at least she had been found, allowed a proper funeral, never to return and haunt the land of her death. Adair heard the whispers and was still full of suspicion and doubt. The sheriff remained stoic, thinking it prudent not to contradict any of the Kendrits’ beliefs. The young shepherd followed the lead. Sturgis lay the body before the Glory. Ephraim arrived soon after, accompanied by Adair. He delivered prayers for her soul and warded her body with faith. He returned with her to his home to make preparations for the pyre the next day. Sturgis patted Adair on the shoulder and offered condolences in his avuncular fashion, before departing. The young girl’s peer stood there in shock and gazed into the amber glass. It was all so surreal. Was it Ra’s will that his world should seem to be crumbling all around him? Alone in the ominous haze of the overcast day he was left to ponder. --------------------------------------------- Meanwhile, Jonas was about finding answers to his own queries. With little in the way of clues at the well, he decided to turn his search towards the alderman’s house: his number one suspects, Captain Sterling and Sergeant Malchiah. He rapped at the door and waited fro response. The sergeant-at-arms responded and grudgingly showed the minstrel into the comfortable sitting room. It paled in comparison to Wrenchard’s. All the while Jonas’ wandering eye roved about, searching, peering, scouring, leering, for any sign, clue, or indication of a scuffle or anything that might lead him to connect the girl’s disappearance to the Menovians. Nothing. As Sterling played the host, Jonas attempted to ingratiate himself on them, offering his services. Though amused at the idea and flattered by the entertainer’s kindly remarks, he did not oblige. Sensing the futility of the act, Jonas again stole a fleeting look about the room before being shown out. --------------------------------------------- His anxiety had gotten the best of him. Paranoia clutched his judgment and began to run rampant with it. For the better part of the day, Jebediah had little else to do but to satiate the tension running through his veins with a constructive outlet. He got creative. The sitting room was cleared of all unnecessary furniture or amenities; that is, anything not already contributing to the forts defenses. Jebediah piled wood by the hearth. Some pieces he began to laboriously saturate in lamp oil in an effort to make it more combustible. In a large barrel he poured the contents of the Valinsons’ wine rack. The great volume of alcohol would be utilized to some degree in one of his plans later. Already he had run through several offensive, defensive, piercing, assault, and flanking scenarios in his head. Currently he concentrated on contriving one for ambush. The other denizens of the house, by now, understood to give him wide berth. It was not until later that afternoon that finally someone dared approach. --------------------------------------------- Adair received no glorious insight from his de-facto patron deity. Realizing the lateness of the hour, he rose from his kneeling position and collected his thoughts. Jebediah would surely need something by now. He crossed the commons on his way to the Valinsons. It was empty as of late, no one felt the need to frequent the area anymore. It struck him as sad how the center of the town, which used to be teeming with life was now so cold, vacant. Though it was indicative of the current Menovian presence, he knew that this change was not sudden, but progressive. He shook his head and hummed a tune. So much philosophizing was not good for him. He vowed to think of finer things. --------------------------------------------- Adair’s voice came stifled through the curtains; Jebediah used the fireplace poker to pull the heavy dread drape back ever so slightly at arms length. Indeed he recognized the young shepherd standing, waiting outside. “Hello…?” Jebediah proceeded to the front door and opened it, barely ajar. Adair noticed and called out. “Hello? Do you all need anything in there?” Jebediah was careful not to stand within noticeable sight of the small opening. “Yes, hold on, the healer needs some things,” He called out and closed the door. The door reopened and Adair caught the small sack, which was suddenly hurtled at him. Jebediah’s voice rang out, “There is a list of goods he needs in the bag. [i]Hurry back.[/i]” The door closed again, sealing them inside. Adair cast a glance in the direction of the Stilwells’. He saw no sign of the tracker. Proceeding to his namesakes’ house, he was greeted by the healer’s wife who opened the door and invited him in. She queried as to her husband and what he would need. Adair gave her the short list, finding a second note in the sack. It read: [I]We are waiting to hear from the healer to see how treatment progresses. We should get together to discuss the situation as soon as you think it is prudent. [/I] The woman returned with the collection of herbs, oils, and salves, startling the young man. Reflexively he crumpled the note, and concealed it in his balled fist. Thanking her, he rose, stuffed the goods into the sack and left. --------------------------------------------- Jonas returned home, having heard news of the recovery of Jenny from the butcher. He visited the barn to work on his play. Yet the usual passion that accompanied his favorite distractions was absent. --------------------------------------------- Adair would return to the Valinson home only one more time that night, but still it was at a longer interval than Jebediah would have liked. The shepherd returned to the pasture to bring in the sheep. He then returned home for dinner. Afterward, he finally found the means and time to scrawl a reply on the same piece of crumpled parchment. It read: [I]Tracker watching house. Should talk by messages, if can. Do you need anything?[/I] Jebediah found this note most disturbing, as well as the boy’s lacking sense of urgency. He wanted details, information, Menovian numbers and positions. For all he knew they were already gathered outside, ready to storm the building. It was quickly becoming evident that he would need to be more blunt. Hastily, he scrawled out a return note. It was passed with the same sack and practiced paranoia that had been exercised heretofore. [I]Well the servants’ entrance is not seen from the Stilwell’s. Wait until night. What is the news from the town and the Menovians? [/I] Adair took the sack and, growing tired, returned home. Certain that everyone was safe and secure inside the Valinsons’ for now, he figured that he would return first thing in the morning, after taking out the herd, of course. He went to bed without reading the note. [size=3][b]Teflem, 27th of Syet – 564 H.E.[/b][/size] Jenny Murrow was put to the pyre in the morning. Dandelions wilted, struggling for life amid the cold cracked earth and approaching season. The funeral fields were cold and sour as the mood of the Kendrits who now filled it. Perhaps wisdom had prevailed in the Menovian camp for none dared show their face at the ceremony. The townsfolk gathered at the pub as was per custom, though their mood was much more subdued than the one following John Fisher’s passing. While the crowd was somewhat diminished on this melancholy morn, the common room once again belonged solely to the Rhondrians. Jonas suspected that Captain Sterling had assigned his remaining Irregulars some duty away from flared tempers. Both ‘Black’ Adair and the young Fawkes spent less time lingering here this morning than on that of any similar occasion. There was still work to be done. Adair took his leave to bring the flock out to pasture. He noted that Van’s flock was not out today. This was not unusual. Here he spent much of the day in solitude, reflecting, pondering, philosophizing. Jonas looked for answers at the bottoms of ale mugs. He found none. Not being fond of a cloudy mind, he ended his search earlier than most other Kendrits and returned home to catch up on some long overdue naps. --------------------------------------------- The air of the Valinson home was stifling. The tension was thick like fog rolling into Haffar’s Port after an attack by Stinging Wind during Elfin summer (4, 5, 6). With still no word fro Adair, Jebediah was growing insufferable. The family took their meals in the cellar; Constance confined herself to the upstairs. Only Gravis seemed to understand the pilgrim, to endure his quirky behavior. Still he was forced to wait, contrivance his only respite. --------------------------------------------- Later, as evening drew near Adair herded up the sheep and began to drive them home. This was an almost effortless task as their conditioning had been ingrained over myriad days. He simply followed, as he did most days, when he would get them home, his only chore was to secure the barn door behind them. Yet, on this afternoon, he drew closer to town than usual, straying from behind the flock. They continued without their warden. Not far from the Valinson home he spied an amusing sight. Drawn by the potential he closed the distance quickly. It seemed that Cricket and Trance Miller had their eye on the Stillwell home. He approached from behind, as quietly as he could. The girls were cowering behind the corner of a nearby house and kept poking their heads out around the corner. They would recoil with a start, giggle, and point to one another. They seemed to be having some debate amongst themselves, in once hushed tones. “What’s going on?” Adair asked, startling them. Cricket was not amused. “Adair!” She berated, “don’t do that!” Trance was alarmed but amused. She always enjoyed when her older sister lost her composure. “Well,” he asked. “What is it?” He peered around the corner. They had a clear vantage point of the Stilwell home. Smoke emanated from the chimney. He knew who was inside, but was still a little confused. “Have you seen the new stranger?” asked Trance rhetorically. “Isn’t he cute?” Cricket nodded her agreement. Adair was overwhelmed. He suppressed the urge to laugh. “He’s gorgeous,” added Cricket. Adair understood that the tracker was good-looking, but couldn’t quite understand the appeal. Was it the mystery? It dawned on him how simple these girls must really be. Weren’t they talking about the same man? A Menovian, one of the ilk who had been responsible for their older brother’s death. Adair was lost in thought. The girls did not wait for any contribution on his part. They continued without him, ignoring him, as they mostly always did. “He likes me better,” boasted Trance. “No he doesn’t. You’re still too young for him. I’m more his type, prettier and older,” Cricket responded. They heckled each other, the volume steadily increasing, occasionally daring to venture another glance. “Why don’t we ask him?” Adair finally offered. Both girls gasped. They now teamed against him. “No, no, no, no, no.” Their unison was perfect. “You wouldn’t dare,” Cricket scolded. “Don’t. You’d better not. Please…” Trance begged. A devilish grin crept across the young shepherd’s lips. “Oh no? Why not?” They were without response. He boldly stepped out from their clandestine corner and started towards the house. They waved him back. He could not hear them as they once again whispered, but their squeamish flailing and embarrassed expressions were enough to give him sadistic pleasure as he drew near Canton’s temporary refuge. --------------------------------------------- A knock at the old Stilwells’ door produced the expected. Canton Myle opened the door and beamed, offering a firm handshake to the young shepherd boy. The dominating figure properly introduced himself and cordially offered Adair a seat. He poured steeped herbs into a tin travel cup for the boy. Adair was a bit taken aback by the man’s pleasant nature. He sipped his beverage. He let his guard down. In the corner he noticed an impromptu perch of some sort, a leather thong-like sling suspended from its branch. “That’s for my falcon.” Canton offered. “Oh? You have a falcon?” Adair was curious. He had never seen one up close before. Tyrus generally avoided hunting the birds of prey. “Sure. He’s a companion of sorts. Kinda like your companions,” he gestured with a nod out of a half-shuttered window, “but mine happens to be a bird.” “Oh, that’s neat.” Adair was genuinely interested. He still wondered what the leather string-sling was. Canton sipped his beverage and waited. Adair noticed the silence. “Oh, yeah. They uh, I guess they think you’re cute.” “How charming.” “Yeah.” Adair was a little confused as to how he had gotten himself into the awkward situation that this was now turning out to be. He cursed his drive to always impress the girls. “Do you have any other companions? You seem to keep strange company. Not just your peers I see.” Canton was cool and coercing. Adair offered nothing. He began to think, ponder his answers, consider what he did and did not know, think Canton knew, or wanted to know. “Have you heard the names Pritchard, or Horatio, or Minerva?” (7) “Nope.” Adair was honest; he focused on what he had come here for. “So, do you think that I can tell them which one you think is cuter?” Canton was happy to oblige. “Well, Adair, both of the young women are adorable. Though I’m afraid that in my line of work I would find it an inopportune time to pursue any romance that is to truly endure. You can let them know that I am flattered and would be lucky to share company with either one of them.” “Um, OK.” Adair rose. Canton Rose with him. He towered over the young Kendrit. Adair noticed the man’s full musculature as he leaned forward to open the door for his guest. He was impressed. He was sure that Canton, broad-shouldered as he was, might have even bested Gerald at a bout of wrestling. “Thanks for stopping by,” Canton called after the young man. “Stop back any time.” Adair nodded and walked to where the girls waited anxiously. They dragged him around the corner as soon as he was close enough to reach. They interrogated him thoroughly. For the sake of mischief, he did so enjoy being in control of the situation, he parlayed the conversation into a coy twist. He wished to keep the two girls competitive with each other. Adding a bit of his own embellishments to the conversation that he had had with the tracker, Cricket and Trance became more argumentative. He left them there, bickering and stealing furtive looks around the corner at their would-be suitor. --------------------------------------------- Adair returned home. He closed the barn door behind the flock. Having been so close to the Valinson home he remembered that he had not had any word from Jebediah today. He hurriedly scrawled out a note on the crumpled parchment, which he now read. If he were quick, he would be able to make it back home in time for dinner. He recalled the plan that Jonas had been working on in the pub earlier that morning. The young militiaman had acquired a bullseye lantern in his duties and intended to use that as his signal to the Valinson house. Adair now knew that he had no indication of the intricacies of Jonas’ plan. He stuffed the note into the delivery sac and bolted from the house. Within minutes he was hurtling it towards the unlocked entryway of Fort Valinson. Adair watched as a hand reached out to drag it into the door, which closed again just as quickly. And he was off, realizing that he hadn’t eaten a thing all day. During his dash home he happened to run into Jonas who was on his way to an early militia detail. They exchanged few words. “If you see Crick and Trance, tell them to get inside before any Menovians catch them,” Adair warned. “Yeah,” Jonas understood. “If anything happens to them their father will totally lose his sh*t.” --------------------------------------------- Jebediah opened the sack, muttering to himself about the immaturity of children. He was sorely disappointed with Adair’s lack of responsibility. He cleared the papers scribbled with his sketches and battle-maps off of Wrenchard’s desk. He sat in the chair and read the note. [I]Can’t come too often. Too risky. If you see bullseye lantern on curtains, we are found out. Suspect Menovians killed Jenny Murrow. Put her on pyre this morning. Menovians are surly.[/I] Jebediah slammed his palm down into the desktop, the parchment crumpled beneath it. He stood seething. “What is this [i]boy[/i] thinking?” He couldn’t help the outburst. There were too many questions now racing through his mind. He only received more questions, no definable answers. Who was Jenny Murrow? Why is it too risky to come by? Why do you need to use a lantern for signaling? And what does it mean that the Menovians are surly? More or less so, or the same, or was it an observation? --------------------------------------------- After dinner, Adair went to visit his very dear friend Hazel Tatum. He had been ignoring her for too long already. He knew that she lacked the romantic interest in him that he reciprocated towards her. He secretly hoped that by agreeing to undertake this mission of Wrenchard’s, his love for her would no longer go unrequited. She was glad to see him, as was her mother, who always seemed fond of ‘Black’ Adair. They enjoyed some time together, though sad, as Hazel remembered Jenny to the young shepherd. He hadn’t realized how hard she would be taking the girl’s death. Adair did his best to console her. Time passed quickly, as it always seemed to whenever Adair could find time to spend alone with his love, and Mrs. Tatum ushered the boy out the door and towards home. He bid them farewell and slipped out into the night. Adair did not go directly home as the responsible mother had implied that he should. Instead, he crossed town towards Wrenchard’s house. Skulking around back, he rapped at the servants’ entrance and was allowed entry. Once inside, Adair learned of what Jebediah had been working on, learned of his plan to ambush the Menovians in three different places simultaneously. He called it the ‘trilogy attack’ and contrived of uses for all his preparations in its implementation. Due to the assault of information, Adair was overwhelmed. He barely managed to explain the details surrounding the disappearance of Jenny Murrow. “Um, Sturgis is not gonna like this,” the young man dared offer a contradictory opinion. “Well, we’ll see if he has any other plans for protecting the teenage girls of this town.” Obviously, Jebediah too must have seen Cricket and Trance at their tomfoolery none too far away. “Or, whether he is willing to sacrifice [i]them[/i] as well.” Adair could see that Jebediah was heated. He swore that he could see the man’s veins pulsing at the temples of his forehead. He too realized that [I]Welcome Winter[/I] was tomorrow, but still had no indication as to what the Menovians may be plotting, if anything. “Well, I thought that Welcome Winter was just a day to sacrifice some lambs and chickens to Apep. Y’know, thanks for the good harvest and all that.” He admitted that his lack of knowledge on religious matters and concerns was overwhelming. “Aarfgh!” Jebediah was at his wit’s end. Everyone in Kendrick constantly proved to be a simpleton. “[b][i]Setites[/i][/b] don’t sacrifice [i]lambs[/i]! They sacrifice [i]people[/i]!” Adair recoiled from the spray of spittle spewing from the corners of Jebediah’s mouth. He only nodded his understanding. With no further arguments, Jebediah led Adair into Wrenchard’s study. It had been converted into a tactical headquarters, a bastion of military thought. Spreading his design plans about the desk, Jebediah began to elucidate. Adair nodded at the necessary intervals. He was certain that none of this was going to work. Some time later, Adair snuck out to find the others of the cabal. Though he expressed misgivings, he agreed to inform them of the plan. Jebediah could not stress enough the need for a sense of urgency. There was not much time left until dawn. Adair was able to find only Jonas. Truthfully, he did not desire to wander into the hills in search of Tyrus well after dark. He knew that he might not ever make it back. Jonas absorbed what he could of the plan, Adair’s details proved to be a little sketchy, if not miscommunicated. Agreeing with Jebediah’s sentiment that the Menovians may yet be up to no good, Jonas began to develop a plan of his own. Jonas made off in the direction of the alderman’s house, unable to as of yet inform Adair of the plan he was still conceiving. --------------------------------------------- Adair, fraught with questions, was confused, overwhelmed and above all, suddenly very lonely. He found himself drawn in the direction of the Glory. Softy, he approached Ephraim’s door. Inside lay the one man who he suspected may yet be able to yet offer him some comfort. The young man knocked gently, he was feeling guilty for disturbing the cleric’s peace. A few minutes passed. He shivered with the waft of the chill wind. This was stupid, he should leave, he thought. As he turned his back to do so, a muffled cough and a soft plod of feet emanated faintly from inside. Adair’s ears ever attentive, he turned back to face the door in time to see it slowly open. Ephraim rubbed the dust from his eyes. Adair waited. Ephraim required a minute for clarity. He then stood aside and gestured the boy in. Adair welcomed the invitation. They sat in the simple room, closely by the hearth. Ephraim offered the young man a warm blanket to ward off the cold. He produced a kettle from the fire and poured his ward a warm cup of mulled wine. “What ails you my boy?” He finally asked when he could see that Adair was feeling a bit more comfortable. That was it. That was all it took. Adair’s defenses were down and he opened up to the priest, completely. He found himself talking, a lot. The wine helped. It felt good to be heard for once, listened to. He had so many questions, so little faith, or knowledge, or wisdom. Finally he collapsed into Ephraim’s arms, sobbing, not completely able to understand the cause of the outpouring of emotion, but knowing that it felt good. Four cups later, he felt a little better. He was relieved. He now understood Welcome Winter to be a holy day committed to Apep, as well as Ra (8) and that he should have no fear. It occurred to Adair that faith was a powerful instrument, a great gift, and an ultimate blessing. Though it was late, Ephraim was glad for the company. As Adair left, the older man was sure to invite the boy back to attend services in the morning. Adair thought that maybe he would do just that. --------------------------------------------- Elsewhere, Jonas situated himself about midway between the alderman’s house and the Tatum house. He had a plan. It was his contention that if he could discern whether or not the Menovians were in the alderman’s house, then he may be able to conclude that they may or may not be plotting some nefarious acts. Due to the proximity of the Tatum house to the alderman’s, Jonas assumed it to be likely that Hazel, being the closest young female, would be their likely candidate for sacrifice. It was a stretch. He needed to know if Hazel was still safely asleep in her bed. He procured a few small stones from the ground and lobbed them at her shuttered bedroom window. There came no response. Not to be dissuaded from his brilliance, he elaborated on it instead. He unslung his lute, took a knee and began to serenade the young woman’s window, loudly. In dramatic motions and crescendos he lilted his head sideways, in the direction of the alderman’s house, hoping to disturb any foul rites that may already be underway within. “How can I tell you that I luh-uh-uh-uh-ve you? I luh-uh-uh-uh-ve you, I luh-uh-uh-uh-ve you, but I can’t think of right words to say. I long to tell you that I luh-uh-uh-uh-ve you. I luh-uh-uh-uh-ve you, but the words just blow away; just blow away…” As expected, he did receive attention. Unwanted attention. He had foolishly forgotten how close his shenanigans were to the cooper’s house. Pollack bellowed out into the night air, “[b][i]FAWKES![/i][/b][i][/i] I’m gonna getcha this time Fawkes. This is the last straw!” In an instant Jonas was up and on the move. He could outrun the cooper, he knew, for this wouldn’t be the first time. And contrary to popular opinion, he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Fueled by rage, Pollack was quicker than the minstrel expected and he skipped a few beats as he circled the Tatum house. Adair, returning from his cathartic session with Ephraim, heard the commotion. He hurried in the direction of his love’s house. Jonas circled the house two more times, both of which still failed to bring Hazel to the window. He was beginning to suspect the worst, except when Adair arrived. Jonas came barreling around the corner as the cooper continued pursuit, and was surprised to see Adair approaching just as fast, with what looked to be as much rage. Jonas, while continuing his serenade, redirected his path to avoid both his old pursuer and his new one. His course took him around the alderman’s house instead. If not winded, he would have chuckled at his dumb luck, his brilliance. Obviously something was already afoot, this way he had a more excusable reason to disturb the evil rituals he was sure were going on inside. Only one pass about the alderman’s house was sufficient to produce results. And for it Jonas was glad, he was beginning to tire. Sergeant Malchiah stood in the open door of the alderman’s home. His armor glinted in the waxing moonlight. He leaned on his spear and commanded them all to, “HALT!” The action stopped. Jonas was triangulated between Adair, Malchiah, and Pollack. In the open between the buildings, he felt exposed. He was sure that this might indeed be the end of him. His salvation emerged at the window. Hazel cast open her shutters now that all was quieted outside, and peered out into the night. Jonas spotted her instantly. “This song was from Adair,” he sang out as loudly and melodically as he could, before taking his exit cue and sprinting off while everyone else distractedly looked at the girl. Her eyes fell on Adair in a whole new light. He blushed. --------------------------------------------- [b]Notes:[/b] (1) – One of the three catastrophic plagues that roam Aquerra is the red wasting disease. The other two of its siblings are the black and yellow strains. There are rumors of a blue variety, but these are heretofore unconfirmed. (2) – Mahlon and Doris Miller had a 17-year old son, Cort, who was killed by the Menovians when they first arrived in Kendrick during their incursion into Rhondria. Cort, who was betrothed to the daughter of the kennel-master, put up a terrible fuss and started his last brawl. The Millers’ two daughters, Cricket (now 16) and Trance (now 15), had to help their mother restrain Mahlon from getting himself killed as well. He has been outwardly spoken against the Menovians ever since. (3) – Nephthys is the goddess of bravery, freedom and courage. Temples, called sanctuaries, dedicated to her are generally forts, impregnable fortresses designed to discourage those who’d seek escaped slaves from pursuing them within these holy hiding places. As a rule, any who seek asylum within a sanctuary are awarded it. . (4) – Haffar’s Port is an independent isle geographically situated between Herman Land and Thricia. Thusly it is an ideal port of call for sea-goers traveling between the two countries. Haffar’s port has an infamous reputation as home to pirate, ne’er-do-wells and slave-traders. (5) – Stinging Wind is perhaps the most well-known if not only dragon active in Aquerra. She is at best guess, a mature white dragon that is presumed brilliant in her attacks on sea going vessels; few of which have ever left survivors to tell the widely varied tales. She is known to claim the waters surrounding Haffar’s Port between Herman Land and Thricia, reaping tribute from them between late Ese and early Prem each year. (6) – Elfin summer falls in late Ese to early Sek. It is the unseasonably warm period that marks the last days of autumn. Rarely is it more than a few days long, but it does cause curious effects on local weather conditions and foliage. (7) – Pronounced Miner[i]w[/i]a. (8) – Coincidentally, Welcome Winter, the last day of Syet also happens to mark the beginning of the Great Fast of Ra. On these nine days priests of the Sun god fast (only drinking liquids) to mourn the coming of winter. [/QUOTE]
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"The Promised Land" - An Aquerra Campaign (Last Updated 1/23/04)
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