Drakthar's Way - Chapter 1
Drakthar’s Way - Chapter 1
OOC Notes:
Xp coming later. For the reader’s reference, most of the group is now third level.
This Week’s Adventure:
“So what next?” I asked Elizabeth.
“Honestly, I have no idea. Thoughts?” she asked Astrid.
“Well, I’m not sure. Our immediate problem – money – is solved. We’re now filthy rich. And more importantly, we actually survived a trip adventuring,” Astrid replied. “We still don’t have a job, but we have a lot more time before we have to worry about it.”
“I’m not sure if I want to deal with any more adventuring or not. The rewards were extreme, to say the least, but the risks were equally extreme,” Elizabeth replied over her drink.
No argument there I thought.
“But I do have an idea for now,” she went on. “One that should cover our bets either way. If we want to stay mercenaries, then light infantry is ok but we both know the pay is weak. Heavy infantry on the other hand, gets paid much better.”
“True,” Astrid agreed. There was really no disagreeing with that – light infantry troops were widely regarded as disposable and of little value. Heavily armored, seasoned fighters on the other hand could turn a battle, and were paid accordingly. “So you’re suggesting we invest some of our newfound wealth in armor?”
“Yes. Plus if we end up on another
adventure” (Elizabeth said the word with some distaste, as any respectable person would) “we could use the better protection there as well.”
Astrid raised her goblet “To the heavy infantry!”
It sounded easy over drinks. Elizabeth had just enough skill that, with a little help, she could produce a set of full plate armor of the highest quality. And if she made it, the cost would be a great deal less than if they bought it. (Elizabeth wasn’t convinced that a male smith, no matter how skilled, would get the fit right, given the contours of the female form.) The only problem was the forge at which to do it. Elizabeth hoped to negotiate the use of Gurnezarn’s forge in trade for her working there, but that proved to be difficult.
“It’s not that you don’t know how to handle yerself in a forge lass,” he said. “But if I do that for you, it’ll cause no end of trouble among the apprentices.”
Gurnezarn didn’t need those kinds of headaches. So they worked out an arrangement for her to rent forge time for what was now a fairly modest fee, and in doing so she would avoid creating problems for the smith and got the help of an apprentice to boot.
Gurnezarn himself was busy finishing Astrid’s new halberd, and then working on a new sword for Elizabeth – a commission that no doubt helped the overall negotiation. The prices were of course ruinous – it seemed Cauldron’s entire economy was built around overcharging for everything, unless you were selling of course in which case you were offered pennies. But the girls believed it would not only enhance their survivability and fighting effectiveness, but also their prospects at getting a legitimate job.
The following weeks of endless heating and hammering were, however, more than I could tolerate. And after very little of my kibitzing and offering advice, Elizabeth suggested I find some other trouble to get into. Astrid got herself lost somewhere in town, no doubt in one of her other guises. So I decided to check in on some of the others.
Glyph and Maris were madly scribbling away, and were, overall, just as uninteresting as Elizabeth but without all the noise. Krisfallion however was more interesting – he had a wandering spirit and a general sense of trouble about him. He and Tzaddik were going to a neighboring town to seek out a master boyer, so I decided to follow along.
They secured passage on one of Maavu’s caravans just to save themselves the walk, and enjoyed a lazy ride through the countryside to Kingfisher Hollow. The weather was pleasant and it was nice to see some trees and fields. The ride itself was uneventful, but there was talk among the escort how a lot of the wild animals have been aggressive lately, and how a pack of lowlands baboons even attacked a caravan and had to be driven off. There were similar rumors heard by others, and it seemed more than just idle gossip on a long trip.
Kingfisher Hollow was a quiet town on the river, and overall a much nicer place than Cauldron. Krisfallion managed to procure the bow he sought. Interestingly, he was asked if he had a token from Maavu or someone else. Not knowing it would be useful, he did not. However it did show that the impact of such items (and the accompanying reputation) had impacts that extended beyond Cauldron itself.
They spent a pleasant evening at Kingfisher Hollow then returned with the caravan the next day. But they did make one interesting stop – at Kingfisher Sendings. Kris did not have the note recovered from Kasmojen, and would likely not have shown it if he had. But he did make some inquiries on the services available. The messenger service delivered only to Cauldron and the surrounding towns. They had a variety of magical protection services available, but the cost was beyond the means of most people. Whomever sent the note was rich enough not to be worried about the cost. But it seemed that the notes were delivered by courier by hand, therefore someone may know who sent it.
When I returned to Cauldron, I learned a note had been delivered to the Blue Tygers. (Cauldron was used to dealing with adventuring groups and it was easier to just follow their conventions and adopt a name than try to fight it, so Astrid had picked the Blue Tygers.)
I would like to meet with you at the Town Hall to discuss a very important matter. Please come at your earliest convenience or send notice that you are unable to attend.
It bore the seal of the Lord Mayor and was signed by Captain Terseon Skellerang of the town watch. Elizabeth got everyone together (except Astrid who was still presumably wandering around somewhere) and they went to see him.
They were shown into what I can only describe as a compound. The facilities here were more suited for a militia than a town watch. Elizabeth estimated there were accommodations for seven hundred men or more, with no telling how many lived in the city proper. Several phalanxes were drilling in the yard and in this they definitely looked more like a town watch then an army.
Passing a low single-story keep, there were some comments made about it. Maris commented that the keep was just the façade, and that was in fact the prison. She lowered her voice when she said it, and when asked, flushed a bit and said that it was a place most people spoke of in hushed tones. There were plenty of stories of those who went below into its underground depths and were never seen again.
We were lead to a small house with a green roof and a plain build. Inside, it was as plain as it was on the outside, with nothing decorative at all. A gaunt man in his forties with blonde hair and mustache sat at a plain desk. Even in the unassuming surroundings, he had an air of nobility around him. Introductions were made and the Captain offered seats to the group.
First Glyph related the entire tale of the trip into Jazadirune and the Malachite Fortress. The note recovered from Kasmojen was given over to the Captain so that he could pursue the source. The Captain listened intently, jotting notes here and there and asking pointed questions. He mentioned that the thugs who assaulted Rufus and started this whole mess were in fact town guardsmen who had, so far, resisted interrogation.
“You might want to mention the half-elves who were snooping around,” I mentioned to Elizabeth, who promptly did. The Captain said that nobody he knew of from the Mayor’s office was investigating and he would pursue it.
“But this is only part of why I asked you here. Part of the reason we did not pursue the disappearances more vigorously was that we thought it was linked to the goblins and that we were already working hard on the same problem. Now it seems the two were unrelated.” Skellerang muttered a bit under his breath, cursing incompetence and a few other things. I had the definite sense that he viewed the entire affair as something that had been royally botched, and he was quite angry over it.
“What goblins?” Bellsin asked.
“We’ve been very busy trying to stop some goblins. They’ve been appearing in the city at night ransacking, looting, and vandalizing shops. Nobody has been killed… yet. But there have been some assaults. It needs to STOP. My men seem incapable of finding the root of the problem. They’ve killed a few, to be sure, but they seem undeterred by that.”
“It seems very odd that goblins would come to vandalize the city. Seems too dangerous for them,” remarked Tzaddik.
“Not really. It’s a rich city and the rock beneath is riddled with caverns. They’re coming up to scrounge,” he said, certain that’s all there was to it.
Already I was suspicious. Steal? I could believe that. Vandalize? No, that didn’t sit right. To risk the wrath of the town watch, it was too much for goblins.
“I want your help to end them. Find them, kill them, bring their ears as proof. You’ll get five gold per ear. It’s a miracle nobody’s been murdered yet, and I won’t have it. Not in my city.” Captain Skellerang was very much about law and order and this disruption was intolerable to him.
The group accepted, and he gave them a seal to show that they were deputized for this purpose. And off they went.
The group went to the scene of the last act of vandalism. Crudely written graffiti proclaimed “Drakthar is the fog!” in goblin. But the area was so highly trafficked there was no way to follow any tracks. They agreed to get some sleep then patrol through the night to try to find a group of goblins.
They spent the entire evening moving through the town with no results, save getting to know the city better. Exhausted, they went to back to the Drunken Morkloth and were about to collapse into their rooms when a dwarf came down the stairs.
“Friends! Long night eh? Come, let me buy you breakfast!”
At first I thought they’d just politely decline and go upstairs, but I saw heads nodding at the notion of breakfast and soon they were all marching back down the stairs to eat.
The dwarf was Tyro Ambersmith. Amberhelm. Amberwamber. Something like that. In any case, he was offering breakfast, and the only price was to hear first hand about the slavers in the Fortress. While some of the Tygers were sluggish, they told him the tale and he seemed quite satisfied. I got the feeling that Tyro didn’t get out too much and wanted some company, and wasn’t above paying for it.
The next night started off much like the first. Then someone caught sight of a group of goblins moving in an alley and the chase was on. The goblins split up and each tried to escape. The group picked one and stayed on him, eventually trapping him in a blind alley. Glyph, Bellsin and Tzaddik all tried to pummel him into submission but the wiry goblin danced around them. Even when Kris commanded him to drop to the ground he kept poking with his crude sword. Finally Elizabeth walked up and put her mailed fist upside the goblin’s head and he dropped like a stone.
The goblin was carrying a crude but effective short sword, a crossbow and was wearing leathers. He was, in short, too well equipped to be scavenging for food and on the edge of starvation. Elizabeth, unsubtle as always, jacked the goblin up against the wall and woke him up. But the feisty goblin refused to answer any questions.
Then Bellsin said “He’s enchanted!” He sounded more surprised than anyone. There was some kind of magic on the goblin, controlling him in some way. Without a way to break it, there was little more they could do though, and they threw the goblin at the first patrol they found to be held for questioning.
The group was going to try to pick up the trail of one of the other goblins when they found goblins vandalizing a shop. This time instead of rushing them, they allowed the more subtle members of the group to follow them. The goblins wound their way down to the southern portion of Ash street, and approached a dome-shaped building. The sign outside had three wavy lines, marking it as a bathhouse. The goblins crept up, knocked on the door, and were let inside.
But there were more people watching. Bellsin and Tzaddik spotted two or three other men, lurking on nearby rooftops or alleys, all watching the building. It seemed as through they were lookouts, but Krisfallion wasn’t convinced.
“They might be other investigators or totally unrelated. We shouldn’t attack them first,” he advocated.
Elizabeth was more inclined to swing first and ask questions later but yielded. The group moved up to the door in force and Bellsin, after much fussing, was able to force the lock. While he did, the other “observers” were moving in the shadows, clearly interested in what was happening.
The door opened and the Tygers moved in to a large room inside the dome. The air was wet and the dome itself translucent. Smaller areas were curtained off the main room, where a large pool was fed from an improbably small decanter. From behind a curtain, a dwarf came running over, shouting.
“You can’t be in here! You must go! Leave now!”
His voice began as urgent and developed into frantic and manic. Elizabeth made it clear they were there on town watch business but he just kept yelling. But while he was yelling, the goons outside were moving, and as soon as weapons were drawn, the dwarf pulled out an axe too.
The door was knocked open by a cloaked figure that was moving almost on all fours. The light was dim but as he moved in, there was enough to make out the rat-like features on his face and body. Three others moved in behind him, and they too looked like half men, half rats.
And it was at this moment I thought of a conversation that had occurred four days earlier.
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“Elizabeth!” Gurnezarn called across the forge. “Your blade is ready!”
Elizabeth put down her hammer, wiped her forehead, and walked over. She took the offered weapon and tested the feel of it. “It’s excellent. Wonderful work!” she beamed, but then furrowed her brow as she ran her finger down the edge. “Not holding a sharp edge very well though, is it?” she asked, confused.
“Of course not. It’s the alchemical silver. You asked for it – I assumed you knew,” Gurnezarn laughed.
“Hm. No I didn’t. If I had, I don’t think I would have asked for it, especially given how much it cost.” She was unhappy bordering on angry, but only at herself. “Oh well. No help for it now. But in the future I’ll know – alchemical silver is not worth it.”
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And with this in mind, I could not help but say the words “Alchemical silver is not worth it.”
Elizabeth ignored me, and ignored the dwarf and moved to her first victim, I mean wererat. One smooth cut and he went down in a heap. The other rats hissed seeing the long curve of her silvered blade.
If it were not for that blade, I am sure I would be telling a different story. With it, the battle was short and bloody. Bellsin slammed the door throwing one of the rat men back into the street, while Maris’ spell made another sleep. The others tried to subdue the dwarf, who took to yelling at the wererats to leave as well, all the time swinging his axe. He probably knew how to use it far better than he actually was.
In moments, three wererats were dead and the fourth was running. The dwarf was knocked silly and examination showed that he too was under the influence of some kind of mind control magic.
They tied him up then explored the bathhouse. A towel room looked more like a nest, and it seemed that the crazed dwarf had been sleeping there. The rest of the bath was empty, but there was a locked door. Behind it were a set of stairs descending into darkness, the words “Drakthar is dead, long live Drakthar” scrawled on the wall in chalk.
Tzaddik knelt down and looked at the floor. “This is where the goblins went.”
