20/20/744 A.E.
A grim night, as the rain clouds move in, all but spoiling the annual view of Pholar eclipsing Scepter when they are both at full phase. A light sprinkle turns quickly into a medium, cold rain. Looks like many people's holiday plans will be ruined, or at least will be less enjoyable.
But such things do not concern Brenick, a hard, nasty man making his way as a thief in the night after losing his berth on the A.I.V. Epsilon (The Alodarian Imperial Vessel Epsilon is one of 20 Pegasus-Class, Elemental-Driven War Galleons in the Imperial Fleet). Though accused of thieving, Brenick instead lost his berth due to fighting and his inability to control his temper. Naturally, he blamed someone else for his current problems, one Tinile Vockshep, able-bodied seaman, as it was he who caused Brenick to lose his temper on that last occasion.
Imagine Brenick's delight when he happened upon Tinile while walking the streets of Alodar, his own sense of justice keenly aroused as he followed Tinile in the rain until just the right moment might present itself.
ENTER DRAEL: Drael, for reasons she simply didn't want to think about at the moment, found herself alone in the rain upon the streets of Alodar with little in her pockets. This had been an increasingly unfortunate quality of her pockets, and she did not like it. Preoccupied with her thoughts, Tinile almost ran into her when he rounded the corner, barely avoiding her at the last second. He seemed to be in a hurry, and simply left her behind without apology as she starred after his retreating form. Brenick was not so lucky, clumsily running into her as he came up on her. "Out of my way, you silly bitch," was all he said as he darted past her, following the smaller man. Being addressed so, perhaps Drael's own sense of justice would have made her follow Brenick, but she was far more interested in why the one was covertly following the other, and so now there were three instead of two playing that game.
The crowds made it more difficult, especially in the rain as they seem to pack themselves under every awning and overhang, making it difficult to follow individuals. A skilled and observant thief could do it, and Brenick had no difficulty keeping pace with Tinile as far as Drael could see, having no great difficulty keeping pace with her own quarry herself. It did make the game of follow the leader go on though, taking forever for Brenick to choose when he might exact his brand of justice, but the time did eventually come, and he fell upon Tinile taking him from behind and beating him without mercy. All Drael could do was watch from a safe distance until it was over. Then Brenick glided away from the fallen, almost lifeless form, but not before relieving the smaller man of the burden of his purse. Drael did take a minute or two to examine Tinile after Brenick stalked off, even saving his life by expertly binding his wounds before she sped on, continuing to follow the nasty man into the raining night. She was fortunate to reacquire him, but he no longer seemed to be hiding amongst the crowds after he had done his daily antisocial deed.
ENTER GILLMESH: A party of three had obtained the last two rooms at the Ferryman's Inn, almost on the heels of Gillmesh, who had secured a room just before. It had been an exhausting day for Gillmesh, the last leg of a long journey from the Plains of Hotoru, his home far to the northeast. He had come to look up a friend of a friend, a man who might have knowledge of work for a skilled fighter such as he, only to eventually discover the man had shipped out just the week before. Now, all alone in Alodar, and with the sort of money problems that plagued the young and recently new members of his profession, he pondered what his next move might be. But even that began to take a back seat to the more immediate concern of sleep. Sleeping in the streets didn't really appeal to him. But sleeping did, and he barely took notice of the three other guests of the Ferryman right behind him. Gillmesh beds down for the night, dead to the world of the upright, still walking, more nocturnal types.
It wasn't long after entering their two rooms at the Ferryman that Tuall, brass party thief, fighter in situations where stealth no longer served him, announced to Liska and Anne that he was going out, leaving the two ladies all alone in their small rented rooms down by the docks in the harbor district (a nastier side of town). The women continued to study Sir Gerald's Journal, trying to glean where his former stronghold of years gone by may have been located. Not that they really cared for his living arrangements of 50-years past, but the mention of hidden treasure did continue to interest them. Not so with Tuall. Though interested in treasure, that would be for another time, after wiser brains than his discovered where it might be, if it could be done at all. In the meantime, his home city beaconed to him, and a night like tonight should prove profitable. Tuall vanished into the night.
And thus Tuall did see what he was looking for, careless people with loose coin purses hanging here and there to make their repeated access easier for their owners (as well as easier for a good thief, but enough people didn't seem to take that into account and this made it worth a thief's while to walk amongst them). At least, it would have, if he had not been drawn to a lurking figure he luckily spotted on the roof of the Ferryman's Inn, lurking, watching, and seemingly waiting for something. But for what? He decided he had to know.
Climbing to the roof of the Ferryman was not difficult for him; it just took a few minutes to do it quietly. There she was, or so it seemed, a lithe figure hanging in the shadows looking intently into a third floor window. He watched her watching, but watching what?
Brenick happily counted his ill-gotten gains from times past, and then decided to hide his booty under the mattress, which now stank from his sweat from this past pholar.
NOTE: A pholar, named after the inner moon, Pholar, is a 10-day period, and a scepter, named after the outer moon, is a 20-day period. Orlantian cultures therefore have pholars and scepters (10 and 20 days) like Earth has weeks and months (7 and 28 to 31 days). The work-pholar (work-week) being 10-days with a half day off somewhere in the first 7 for most and ending with a solid two-day pholarend (weekend). Most things, when rented, are rented by the day, the pholar, or the scepter.
Now, Brenick thought to himself, he had enough to buy the woman he wanted (well, rent actually, but Brenick didn't think of it that way, for if he paid that much for her, even just for the night, she was his property, to do with as he would). He left the room, hurrying away to find out if the prostitute he wanted was still not otherwise engaged. If he hadn't been in such a rush and still on an adrenalin-high from pounding Tinile into the pavement, he would have realized then and there he would need all the money, but these things sometimes slip one's mind.
Drael opened the window immediately after Brenick left, carefully and silently moving through the shadows. "Creak!," damn! Wait, she didn't make that noise after all. Barely audible though it was, it wasn't her. Then who? Someone behind her - out on the roof like she had been? Becoming one with the room's shadows, she drew her favorite black, ebony dagger, gripping the tight, red twine which bound its handle. She slowed her breathing to almost nothing and waited.
Tuall enter the window, not being too cautious, for what would another thief do - call for help? No, whatever was in here would probably be enough for two thieves to split, taking his fair share this time for her carelessness at being spotted and his skill at spotting her (or so he thought). He felt the dagger's point against his back, his kidneys in mortal peril. "Don't move," she whispered into his ear. His response, a bit flustered after being taken by surprise, was simply "Look, don't queer this heist by spilling blood now; there's plenty here for us to share."
Who knows what would have happened if they had time to come to an agreement, but the footfalls of a large man could be heard coming toward the door.
ENTER MAARIK: Maarik looked at her, a rather pleasant looking woman, but a prostitute nonetheless. He had given up trying to find a vacant room, almost cursing the High Holy Day for the crowds that filled the normally vacant inns, but cursing their holy day might anger the gods. Rangers didn't like to anger the gods with careless words, or so Holly Snowtear, his mentor, had repeatedly told him. He wondered what she was doing now, and whether her new student was now enjoying his former bed. Normally, he would prefer camping out under the stars, even in this weather, but it was literally a mile to the outskirts of Alodar (damn cities, they can get so big), and he had little choice but to find a room. Too bad none were available, or nearly none. "So, for 3 EP you'll take me to your room and we can just talk, huh?" She smiled at the ranger's question, feeling his muscular chest. "Sure hon, unless you want more. But that will cost more." Maarik gave the matter some thought, and though her body might be welcome, he had no love for the thought of paying for it, even though it was a licensed and legal profession within the empire. "I just need a place to stay for the night, that's all." A brief but disappointed looked crossed Loralee's face, "O.K., but then you'll have to wait. I have another paying customer. Come up to my room when the tower bell sounds again." The bell was just finishing striking 10. An hour to wait wouldn't be so bad.
NOTE: This is NOT a clock, but more a conventional time keeping method, an hourglass telling the tower keepers when to strike the bells up to midnight, staring again at 6 in the morning.
Drael was first out the window as they both heard the key in the lock, but Tuall was right behind her. "Damn, #$%^ $%^&% whore will cost so #$%^ much," could be heard issuing from the nasty man's mouth if they had bothered to listen. Brenick cursed his own stupidity for forgetting the holiday rates, not so much because he had a keen understanding of supply and demand, even in that business, but because he had been told before and had just forgotten. But he was glad he remembered before he had gotten too far. He retrieved the rest of his stash from under the mattress (for thieves taking time to discuss how to split up treasure didn't have time to conduct their normal business and get any) and he was soon away, locking the door behind him. Tuall reentered the room to find what could be found, fully expecting Drael to follow and finish their discussion. Drael, on the other hand, knew the big man had taken most, if not all his money, and slipped away toward the front of the Ferryman. It wasn't long before Brenick emerged and the game of follow-the-leader renewed. Tuall, on the other hand, after finding nothing in the room, couldn't find the other thief later, and went back into the night, making perhaps a hundred silver before he decided it was enough for the next day, before finally returning to the rented rooms.
"We really need a map," said Liska, more to herself than to Anne who was resting on the bed, having giving up on the journal for the night. "The harbormaster is said to sell maps, even a few inland ones. Lake Taknam should be on such a map, so we should just wait until morning and get some sleep until then." Anne seemed to be way ahead of Liska there, sleep wise, or she would have been had it not been for the sounds of sexual expressions coming from Loralee's room next door, not that Anne knew her, but she knew full well what she was doing. Half the floor knew. Not Gillmesh though, for he was quite dead to the world, and his room was a bit farther down, perhaps beyond the rhythmic noise coming from Loralee's room.
Drael finally had her chance, Brenick having come to a stop in a dark alley just ahead of her. He seemed to be waiting for someone. She crept up behind him, slowly, two of her four daggers out and ready, slowly, silently (or so she hoped). At the last instant, Brenick spun on her and drew his own dagger in one fluid motion, attacking the person who had almost succeeded in sneaking up on him!
A battle ensued, and the profanities and derogatory remarks about women may have given some a good indication of how Brenick really felt about women in general, but mostly they alerted a waiting ranger, Maarik, to the fight in the alley, and when he arrived he saw only the end of it. Brenick had won. Drael, knifed in the ribs, even after slashing and wounding Brenick several times, had finally succumbed to the more experienced thief, slumping to the wet, dirty pavement below. "Now you'll die, you worthless cunt," he sputtered as he went in for the kill. Cha-cling! the sound of a bastardsword being drawn from its scabbard, the metal blade ringing on the scabbard's metal opening, but the ringing was quickly dampened as the sword bit into Brenick's back. "Ugh!!!" he staggered back away from Drael's prone form. Only one chance now, he thought - Run! Swoosh thump, sliceee "Iieee," the parting blow cut Brenick down, the nasty, one time sailor, would never bother anyone else again.
Maarik knelt next to the near lifeless woman. Who she was, what the fight was about, why that man was going to kill her even after he had already beaten her and won, these things didn't seem to matter at the moment. He bound her wounds, taking time to make sure she would live. Afterwards, only then did he check on Brenick, but the man had already bled to death, several small dagger wounds and two rather large slashes from a sword will do that. Maarik picked up Drael's body and carried her to the Ferryman, the closest place help might be found.
The innkeeper, seeing the level of distress and the need of the situation, helped Maarik obtain one of the two rooms he had last rented from our intrepid group. Maarik placed her upon the bed and took vigil over her. Perhaps the morning would bring answers, but for now he must wait, for now he must sleep. So the evening passes.
01/01/745 A.E. The New Year.
NOTE: In order to facilitate bookkeeping, all players add one year to their character's current age at the first of the year (no matter when their actual birthday may be). It is now assumed all the characters have done this, and their starting ages are now correct. Next year, however, they will add another year to their age.
Another gloomy day, and though the rain continued, it was not too hard, and it did let up by midafternoon. But before that happened . . .
Liska and Anne, along with Tuall who all now shared a single room, started to stir as the noise below increased in volume and the smells of breakfast wafted through the airy hallways. As was typical, the cost of a room for the night included a small breakfast meal, though they often paid more to have extra servings and greater choices. But the innkeeper of the Ferryman was here, informing guest that a dead man had been found in a nearby alley and an imperial guard wished to speak to any who might know something about it.
Across from one another, the two rooms secured by the party were now open and characters met here and there in the hallway, downstairs for breakfast, and even in the common facilities. Liska, now fully rested, took the time to examine Drael. Her wound was bad, and signs of infection (poison? or just a dirty dagger) could already be seen. To nip it in the bud, Liska used her magic to heal the woman, staving off the more serious complications and bringing Drael back to consciousness. Liska smiled at Drael, greeting her as she returned from the brink of death.
And with the commotion in the hall, questioning innkeepers, and characters in general milling about trying to find out what each other did during the night, Gillmesh fell in with this group as they spoke of their concerns over breakfast. Liska, on the other hand, took that opportunity to visit one of the local bathhouses. Later, when asked if she had a good time, all she would do is smile.
ENTER LT. EVERWIN: Lieutenant Ricki Lee Everwin enters the scene. She looked around the tables in the dining area of the Ferryman, finally seeing what she sought, the sky-blue cape of another imperial guard. She had visioned the report already that had summoned her through her I/O amulet, but she liked to get it firsthand as well, so she crossed the room and spoke at length with the sergeant before dismissing him. He handed her two red, twine-handled daggers, before making his departure.
So, the sergeant had liked a pair upstairs for the death of the man, and the innkeeper confirmed one of them had been badly wounded. Ricki sighed, as she did not relish dealing with such matters. Some hooker who had found him had already identified the man, and the ID was confirmed (he had been extensively on record as he had been in imperial naval service). He had not been a citizen of the empire, however.
NOTE: No one, including Lt. Ricki herself, or any imperial officer, as well as many other people who worked for "the company" - as the Alodarian Empire was sometimes referred - or anyone who possessed life energy above a certain level (i.e. 1st level or higher) could even qualify as a citizen of the empire. And since the empire was not overly concerned with what "adventurers" did to one another, as that was a full time job in and of itself, and not particularly helpful to your average citizen, this dead man was not a high-priority concern of the imperial guard. But it was usually better to know what was going on whenever possible. Since the company did work for the average citizens, it was important to know what had transpired there did not, nor likely would, further endanger any citizens, and when someone would kill another person in a major city like Alodar, no matter who they were or why they did it, the concern they might not be too picky about whom else they dispatched did warrant further investigation. Ricki, therefore, had to make reasonably sure the culprit was not so inclined to kill a citizen so casually as well. Besides, the truth of what happened was always important for the records, particularly ones that "closed" out a person's file. The empire was almost fanatical about keeping good records, even attaching associated figures of probabilities to various speculations that may have occasion to be made.
Damn! she thought, checking the descriptions of the two upstairs against her files while pouring herself some apple juice and leaving 1 SP on the bar. No close matches so far, the closest being one hit at only 40% probability. These two had had no occasion to be put in the archives yet. New comers to the city, perhaps, or just very careful? She'd have to find out. Some plates of food were being taken upstairs and she asked about them. The innkeeper ratted on the party (well, you know what I mean) and Ricki learned the plates were headed for the very people she needed to interview. She gave it a few minutes as she finished her AJ, and then followed the plates.
The next chaotic scene involved a lot of roleplaying, which I'm sorry to say will not be duplicated here, but Ricki did interview Drael and then Maarik and came to three possible conclusions. 1.) Drael had killed the man and Maarik helped her cover it up by being evasive, 2.) Maarik had killed Brenick and was being evasive, or 3.) Someone else had killed him and both were not being as forth coming with information as they could be. Ricki had little time for this, and did not feel obliged to assure either of them they were probably in no real danger from the empire. After all, these two probably had killed Brenick and chose not to cooperate with the law. Perhaps out of personal fear, or maybe actual disdain for human life or just the government in general, who could say? Fortunately for them, as no citizens were hurt, imperial justice was not called for.
NOTE: With magical aid, True Seeing, Detect Lie, etc., when the empire needs to spend that kind of cash to exact justice for its citizens, it will. This is the promise of Imperial Justice, which all "citizens" enjoyed, the very threat of which was usually more than enough to protect her citizens from outsiders smart enough to realize having an entire empire on your case wasn't worth it. But this was not the case here. Brenick had long ago passed that threshold and no longer qualified as a common "citizen" since he was, for the most part, far more capable of defending himself than an imperial guard would likely be able, given travel times and the like when or if trouble would arise. Unfortunately for Brenick, he had put himself in a situation, or allowed himself to get into a situation, where his skills were insufficient to save his life. But that's the way it goes for many adventurers.
The two daggers found at the scene, however, would be held in evidence until the full truth was discovered, if ever, and as it didn't look like the empire had too much reason to pursue it further, the daggers would likely end up somewhere in a vault forever, simply marked "Possible weapons used to kill Brenick Aso." At least they weren't magic. God! The reports involved if they had been. Ick. Ricki shuddered at the thought, counted herself fortunate they were not magic, and felt happy that it was over for now, with two more new people on record now. She hoped a pattern of such behavior didn't manifest itself with those two, but if it did, the record would be there, waiting for them. Then she noticed something else about Brenick's record that gave her pause. "That might not be good," she thought to herself, hoping her tendency to think in terms of worse case scenarios was just getting the better of her again.
NOTE: I guess I'll just mention since no PCs thought to follow up on any clues regarding Brenick, anything "interesting" in his file, while potentially dangerous as well possibly profitable, never came up, and Ricki's concerns about what might happen, never happened. And so dies another of the countless possible story threads your DM interweaves throughout his scenarios on his world, allowing his players and their PCs to decide their own destinies and follow their own paths and desires, rather than being forced down the one and only path the DM prepared for them for the day's session. Ha Ha. But I digress, and since such regards to good DMing can be found elsewhere in webpage articles, I will leave it at that for the interested readers to search for and find on their own accord.
The imperial guard, having performed its duty (for now), left the Ferryman and our loose conglomeration of intrepid adventurers.
HARBORMASTER: A man of some note, Abraham C. Lane had been a sailor, a captain, an adventurer, and a few other things, but now was content to spend his autumn years as the Harbormaster for Alodar's harbor, the busiest seaport in the world. Oddly enough, he had little to do since most traffic had come to a crawl and would likely remain so for another day or two (The High Holy Day, you may recall). But he was required to be on hand, and so as almost the entire party tramped into his office making inquires about various maps, Abe sized them up instantly. Young adventurers who didn't know squat about the real world, but had the power and abilities to make their way in it, either through intelligence, wisdom, or brute force when those other qualities didn't work. As he had never seen them before, they either wanted to book passage NOW (always in a rush, these types), hire on as sailors looking to see the world, or maybe they simply wanted a map. The lattermost proved to be what they were after, and for 10 GP he sold them a large map of the empire, perhaps showing everything for 200 miles. It had contained Lake Taknam, which seemed to be important to them. Abe wondered if he would see them again, looking for the "right" map in a few hours, as people often purchased the wrong map the first time (after all, they were lost, so what did they know?), or maybe he'd see them in the years to come. Only time would tell.
Back at the Ferryman, Liska and Anne studied the map as Gillmesh, Drael, Maarik, and Tuall looked on, drinking various things.
"-----fter returning from our raid on the orc encampment, located at the northern tip of Lake Taknam, I had my first serious disagreement with Mireus. I felt it was worthwhile to return for the treasure we could not carry off with us the first time, but he felt is wasn't worth the 14-mile round trip."
Liska thought to draw a circle seven miles in radius from the northern tip of Lake Taknam. Since Sir Gerald mentioned it was a 14-mile round trip from his stronghold to that point, their secret stronghold should be about 7 miles from there, somewhere on the perimeter of that circle. But a circle like that covered a huge area.
Warming 17. 8/17/695 A.E.
We were attack by orcs! Maybe more than one hundred totally caught us off guard in the night. I only managed to escape by sheer luck and excruciating effort by dragging my wounded body 17 miles to the north gate of Alodar, and even then nearly drowning when forced to cross White Water River in the dark.
Anne read the pertinent passage as Liska drew another circle, this time 17 miles in radius from the north gate of Alodar. She smiled when she saw the two circles intersected. But they crossed in two places, and with rough estimates like that, and even assuming straight-line distances (which were not too likely) searching just one area might take weeks, let alone searching both areas.
"We need help," Liska finally admitted, and the party next sought out a general knowledge sage that the innkeeper knew, a man named Pierce. An hour later, well into the afternoon when the sun had started to burn away the morning's cloud cover, they found Pierce outside working in his garden, tending his tulips. The man had an extensive garden, and the place was swarming with songbirds.
After going inside and presenting Pierce with the map and the journal, Pierce eventually smiled and told them he could help, for a price. When they agreed to pay him the 15 GP he asked for, Pierce began to tell them a thing or two they had overlooked or simply didn't know that might he felt might be useful.
SESSION ENDS.
© August of 1999
by
James L.R. Beach
Waterville, MN 56096