04/04/745 A.E. Continued...
A crack of thunder again shakes the walls of the Ferryman Inn, the deep, rumbling noise quickly replaced by the sound of the hard rain upon the rooftop and the splatter of fat rain drops against the window panes, but soon even that becomes secondary to the torrential splashing of a steady steam of water running out of the roof's gutters and hitting the stone upon the ground paced there for just such occurrences. Trekken arises from the table, moving to the window where he sits and looks out, lost in his personal thoughts. Garren's violin can once again be heard as he starts one of his favorite melodies, but the repeated crashes of thunder ruin any chance of a good performance.
Alaian enters the tavern, sees his friends, and goes to sit with them. Trekken, seeing Al, follows. Banter occurs, and a few fill Alaian in on the departure of Drael and Fenarellnen. "Ah, I did not get a very friendly feel from them. I am sure they will do fine on their own. I know their 'methods' will keep them safe." He looks dismayed as he, too, knows that he must soon leave for a meeting on the Alderami Isles, a convention of the priests of Corellon. Though this information came to him in a dream, Al relies on his instincts when it comes to his deity. Naturally, he'll be back when he can, though, and he informs his friends of his departure, but tells them to expect his return. After fond farewells, Al leaves. EXIT: Alaian.
The group discusses the importance of finding a new mage now that Al has gone, and decide they had better scout out for one. Perhaps posting a flyer by the main gates is the thing to do. Though frequently out of date or just not very interesting, these postings do sometimes provide valuable information.
The rain stops as suddenly as it began, the torrent of noise slowly giving way to the gentle dripping of the freshly washed city, the sun peaking out every now and again to highlight the new cleanliness of her streets and buildings. The efficient guttered ways of the imperial streets make short work of the excess water, eventually taking most of it down to the harbor. Few people venture beneath the city streets and know exactly how this is done (since imperial guards highly recommend all citizens stay above ground and away from the storm sewer systems), but there are a few who know.
The vanishing rain is taken as a good sign, an omen of good fortune, as if the gods are once again smiling upon this little world. Anne Jeris Serious Wethrin, mage and former member of the party, enters the Ferryman Inn. She seems surprised to see Gillmesh, the only person who remains in this group who had known Anne as one of the founding members of this group of adventurers. She had left a few months back to study and conduct spell research, greatly increasing her power through diversity; her spellbook now contained 6 more spells she could use.
Gillmesh, happy to see Anne (and especially delighted to see a mage they need) introduces Anne to the new party members. Greetings go around and they play catch up on life for a few hours over ale, coffee and apple juice.
Eventually, by telling Anne there may be books of the old mage Mireus to be found, Anne decides to join the party again, at least for a time. Anne's eyes widen and a grin steels across her face uninvited. "Sounds good to me. Oh, wait. This is just another excuse to get me in trouble, isn't it?"
Soon, the dinner crowd packs the inn and makes it too hard to talk. They eat their meal, but many wish to indulge in something fancier, as drinks go, but the inn keeps just pretty common stuff on hand. Sally (the barmaid) suggests they may find a greater selection at a local bathhouse (they have well stocked bars in them), so the party takes the opportunity to go to the bathhouse several blocks up the street. Trekken, however, looks for things to do which may please his god, so he departs and wanders the city streets, thinking to come back to the inn later. Evil (at least the obvious kind) does not rear its ugly head so openly in the capital, and Trekken sees very little he can do. Eventually, he does find a family who has had hard times set upon them due to their father's illness. The father, near death with pneumonia, prays with the holy warrior and Trekken heals his soul in the name of Thor, and the family rejoices. Hail Thor.
Katsumi enters the bathhouse, followed by everyone else (except Trekken). The entry fee is 20 SP (2 EP or $20), but that includes the run of the place and towel services. Private baths and private steam rooms cost more (an extra 30 SP for the privacy), and, of course, drinks, other than water, must be paid for separately (this is how these places make a profit since the drinks run about 5 to 10 SP each, depending). Kat sees the bartender mixing a fruity drink and smells the hint of strawberries from there. She smiles and continues to go farther into the bathhouse establisment.
Most people are nearly totally naked, perhaps with just the occasional towel strategically situated, but complete nudity and even open sexual expression is not uncommon in such a place. Katsumi simply undresses, revealing a nearly flawless body (a small scar from a puncture wound between her ample breasts being the only noticeable breach of perfection). The others take a little more time, but eventually they, too, are undressed and in the hot pool-like bath. Even though the private bath area is cordoned off with hanging sheet-like tapestries, with slight adjustments, one can move them aside and peer out. Most of them from far smaller villages and not used to the ways of a major city, slight embarrassment accompanies all party members except Kat, who has been bathing in similar places for years, though never in such a large building or with this many people before. Some virgin daiquiris are ordered (as well as a few other more intoxicating things), and they talk while relaxing in the hot water. They spend hours there as lovers meet, businessmen discuss their plans, and other far more secretive conversations go on between dozens of people in scores of separate rooms.
Trekken returns to the inn and Sally tells him where his friends are. He promptly goes there and finds them after a nice man let the holy warrior inside the bathhouse for free.
NOTE: Never underestimate the influence of a cleric in the city, the personal representatives of the gods. It's best to stay on their good side, and by extension, the cleric's deity's good side.
Katsumi then saw a fantastic looking woman (later she found her name to be Cindy, which was short for Cinnamon), and went over to introduce herself. Cindy was, well, a regular here and enjoyed life very much. One thing led to another and in practically no time Kat and Cindy were making out. On lookers watched, getting aroused themselves as these two exceptional beauties explored each other's bodies. The more they watched, the better Cindy liked it, and the more enthusiastic she became. Meanwhile, Anne and Gillmesh get reacquainted and rather, well, close. More time passes until Trekken (after relaxing an hour or so in a bath himself) finally convinces them all it's time to go. Relaxed, cleaned, and a bit over sexed, and some of them slightly drunk, they all make their way back to the Ferryman Inn and spend the night, planning to make an early day of it tomorrow. The night passes uneventfully.
04/05/745 A.E.
With the sun still hidden by the great shadow, a slightly hung over bunch mills about making last minute adjustments to their provisions. Soon, they depart from the tavern to the stables, stopping along the way to fill their waterskins by one of the more magical fountains. Anne practically falls in she's so unsteady, and Trekken mixes some of the water with a few special leaves he has and makes her a spot of tea that helps considerably. They proceed to the stables, load their gear, and within a half hour they are on their way.
Note: About one in twenty of these fountains around the city are magically enhanced to provide nutritious water with a spell similar to create food and/or water. This is mostly done to supplement lower-income families and provide for their nutritional needs with the vitamin and mineral enriched water. Mostly, they simply drink the water or cook with it, adding what few vegetable and what little meat they can to stretch their food budget. This water provides no great benefit game wise, though it does tend to mitigate hangovers and stay hunger better than normal water.
Still under cover of darkness, they pass through the north gate of Alodar, making small talk with the ever-present imperial guard on their way out. Then they cross small bridge and follow the White Water River north, most of them lost in thoughts about the previous day, remembering fondly what happened, or just trying to remember what happened. Gimarian, the cheery sun, greets them, warming their right sides as they head north. Noon comes and goes, their meal break uneventful. It is not long after that they arrive at the complex, deciding to take the very muddy tunnel downwards. Securing their horses and pack animals without, they descend into the complex and emerge, much as expected, covered in a bit of mud and in a lonely, dark, empty room. Cleaning up a bit, they go in search of Yarr and luckily find him guarding the Kobold's Hall where he is accompanied by two more boars. Garren's stomach grumbles as he recalls his bad experience of eating one of the kobold's pets.
Anne is surprised at the friendly nature a kobold is showing toward them, but no one around her seems to think it unusual or unexpected, so she says nothing, but keeps her eyes on Yarr. Yarr informs them the orcs have not returned since they fled about four weeks ago. They discuss their plans to go below and Yarr invites himself to come along since he also wishes to see the lair below and scout the place out for his leader, but he dares not go alone. They agree to take him. Anne mumbles a bit then looks at Yarr. "Just don't get in the way of my spells. That would be very unpleasant, friend." The kobold is visibly nervous at the suggestion of magic, let alone his getting in the way of it. Yarr simply shudders at the very thought of it. Just walking anywhere near a spellcaster often can result in highly unfortunate consequences, and so he watches her most of the time, keeping his eyes on the new arrival.
Through the armory, the party notices half the armor and weapons are now gone. Apparently, the kobolds probably helped themselves to whatever they could use. Good for them.
They open the secret door leading down and north, following it with a Continual Light rock out. The Drip Drip Drip noise welcomes them to the caverns below with its familiar greeting. Trekken notices right away there is no longer the stench of decay and death and soon discovers the dozen orc bodies are gone. Someone or something had removed them, but he couldn't tell who had done it. Gillmesh continued to explore along the straight western wall, his light finally illuminating two heavy wooden doors banded with heavy, copper-like fittings. They looked very sturdy, indeed.
Leaving the door leading east behind for now, they concentrate on the northern door. Finding it unlocked, they enter into a room so vast and so high, the light doesn't reach the ceiling, nor the far walls of the room, but a dozen glowing pools of liquid (of various colors) scattered across the floor illuminate the area and help them to see the chamber is incredibly big. A strong breeze blows through this place, hitting the adventurers in the face with a low, but steady push as it is funneled out of the now, open door.
Gillmesh enters, seeing he is standing in the southeastern corner of this chamber. He cautiously moves farther in when suddenly, without warning, a giant stalactite falls from the ceiling above, missing Gill by mere inches. "Thudddd," the rocky sound echoes well off the unseen walls. "Holy shit!" exclaims the warrior, backing up quickly with little concern for who may be behind him. Trekken prays, "Thor shed your grace upon us and protect us," almost uttering the prayer under the holy warrior's breath, while Garren notices the "stalactite" begins to move, slowly to be sure, but it is moving. It's alive.
SESSION ENDS:
© November of 1999
by
James L.R. Beach
Waterville, MN 56096