It starts as these things so very often do in a tavern. There are two inns in Fort Inevitable; the smaller Red Shield Tavern, popular with the town's off duty garrison guards and the larger and more comfortable Juliver Arms. The Juliver has been owned and managed by a veritable clan of bustling halflings for as long as people can remember...the Reedbanks are typical of their race, welcoming, jovial and never short of time to spin a yarn. It is here, in the most friendly and welcoming of places, where a chain of events will occur, where strangers will meet...where a quest into the darkest depths of the earth...and history...will begin.
The month is Abadius and the weather is typical for this time of year...the snows have set in and trade along the Crusader Road is slow. The few travellers that arrive at Fort Inevitable are either heading north to join the fight at old Sarkoris or are caravans of merchants plying the trade routes through the River Kingdoms. Needless to say, new faces in the town are unusual whilst the snows hamper travel and, until trust has been gained, will draw the attention of Fort Inevitable's Hellknight guards. Tonight the weather is particularly bitter, a harsh wind whistles through the streets and a shower brings fresh snow...yet the winter can be briefly forgotten within the warmth of the Juliver Arms...a small crowd of locals crowd the bar, huddle around tables or warm themselves against one of two roaring fires. A night like any other night beneath this roof...yet all of this was about to change...
The door of the tavern swings wide to admit a weary traveler. The wanderer, apparently female to gauge by her lithe figure, is dressed in a simple chemise and leathers, with high leather boots, fine kidskin gloves, and a fur cloak that hides her face. A peacebound rapier hangs from her right hip, and a worn leather backpack hides beneath her cloak.
She knocks the snow from her boots before entering and then strides to a table in the corner, near the fire, and seats herself facing the door with her back to the wall.
When a halfling lass inquires as to her preference, she simply says, "Wine, please," in heavily accented Common.
Luther had finally checked out a basic book on religion from the temple library. It was so basic, he could not get caught reading it anywhere near the new students and clerics, so he headed to the local tavern to read it. He wanted to do anything but read the boring words on the page when the dark lady entered. Not very knowledgeable about many things outside religion, Luther had no idea what race the dark lady was.
Seeing a welcome distraction, he folded up his book and tucked it back into his pack to read sometime later. He approached the exotic darkish elf with a smile. "I am Luther, join me by the fire. It is drafty here, but I know the best spots to sit."
No one is sure when the young gentleman appeared at the Inn. It was like he just sort of 'appeared' there during the evening meal. He secured a room and a meal, and now was enjoying the warmth of the fireplace. He is a nondescript lad, with short sandy-blonde hair and dressed in the common travelling cloths of a wanderer. He is unarmed, but most of his equipment was probably left in his room, though again, no one can remember him having anything.
Marian sat back in the comforting dank of the Tavern, resting his weary legs in a "halfling's loveseat" a wide, squat chair, sitting just a foot off the ground. He happily puffed on his pipe and sipped at a pint, the bitter hoppy beer running down his hairless chin. Engaged in conversation with a few other men, the scent of elf filled his nostrils, he looked around the room, eyeing the Drow and the clergyman curiously.
Abruptly the door slams open and a group of four humans roll in, laughing and making fun of a fifth, who turns crimson in embarrassment.
" Aww! Come on lad is no' so bad! So you lost your first shipment. Happens now again.. But what's funny, is who ya lost it to!"
Says a big burly man with an Earthbreaker over his back.
" Yes. You'll never live this one down Conner. Better you than I!" Responds another, dressed in woodman's leathers, with a bow.
"Quite down now, fellows. We have arrived." States a tall man in robes." We came here to buy him a drink, before we go on duty. Relax Conner, it's not a shameful thing. Everybody gets bested now and again."
" But not by Goblins... Not just one anyway...Ha hahaha!" Pipes in the final soldier, dressed in scale with sword and board. " Boss might just let him go after somethin' like that. He's on leave without pay fer now, but we'll see..."
After a few drinks, they wander off to their job, leaving the young recruit alone at the bar.
Dressed in leathers painted bright yellow and crimson swirls on one side, with the other side in the same style and colors, but muted as if in shadow, he seems to draw the eye.
Three hilts stick up from his back, A steel Greatsword behind his head, a dark iron shortsword slightly to the right and a silver shortsword further right still. He is still wearing his backpack, and has what appears to be a component pouch on his left side.
And like the other four who left, he has a blue ribbon tied to his right arm, with a small stone wheel tied to it.
The ribbon and stone are symbols of the Blue Basilisks, a company that hires out as guards and protectors.
Mostly though, he just looks miserable as he nurses his beer.
A hooded figure walks into the bar....keeping his head down, yet seeming to take in the whole room too. He approaches the bar.
Ale, please.
After he gets his drink, he heads towards the back of the bar, keeping his back to the wall.
As the winds rise outside, the atmosphere within the Juliver Arms becomes more jovial. The smell of well prepared food fills the air as patrons sit down to their meals…
Listening around from your various positions within the bar, the topics of conversation are as diverse as they are noisily debated; gossip about local families, the harshness of the weather, the slowing of trade (worse than ever apparently), the increase in bandit activity and rumours of burglaries within the town walls.
"Studying again?", a young Halfling Serving Woman smiles knowingly at Luther whilst pouring a wine for the newly arrived Drow, "Can I get you a drink Luther?"
Seeing the Kordson boy so dejected, a middle aged man makes his apologies to his group of friends and offering to buy another drink, "So it didn't work out then? What exactly happened?"
Luther replies: "Whatever is on tap. And I am staying away from the temple nosies. Any bards in town with interesting stories?"
Sipping from his drink, Conner turns to the man..
"Well....There were four of us. The wagons had stopped for a lunch rest, and as the rawest recruit, I got put on watch, while the others had lunch with the drivers.....
I was pacing around the wagons, when I stepped in a loop. It pulled tight, and down I went. Didn't feel like a goblin pullin' on it.
Felt more like a bear.
Anyway, I got conked on the head, and woke up with my legs tied tight to my wrists. Heard rustling above me, and turned in time to see a goblin hop out of the wagon with a small chest and stagger of into the snow.
I started to yell for the others, and squirmed my way out from under the wagon, but when they arrived, the gobo was gone and so was some of the pay."
He shrugs and takes another sip.
" Later they told me only one set of prints was found, and those were soon covered in blowing snow."
Slouching back into his seat he gulps the drink this time.
" I just got into the Blue Basilisks...Now I may be out already. Sucks!"
Simon continues to quietly sip his ale while warming himself by the fire. He does take a long look at the female.
Perception:
He thoughtfully keeps to himself what he has discovered, understanding very well what it means to be an outsider.
Smiling at Luther's continuing challenge with his temple studies, the Halfling woman replies, "A flagon of Sellen Amber it is then…Luther, you know we haven't had any bards here for a while…not since the last one ended up dancing to the hangman's song near the gate"; turning to Drusellia, "May I get you another drink?".
At Conner's sad story, the middle aged man attempts to reassure him…"Goblins have caught many the young guard unaware…just because they're small doesn't mean they ain't mean and vicious…look, I'm sure the Blues will give you another chance…just show them you've learned from your experience…besides, it wasn't so long ago that your erstwhile companions all ended up in the Sellen when their boat got sabotaged by a group of pugwampis…have another drink young man, tomorrow's another day", he gestures to the stout barkeeper and, in short order, two foaming tankards of ale are placed in front of them.
The general hubbub within the Juliver rises and falls as people arrive and meals are served...the evening is turning out to be pleasant enough when a small group of cloaked men walk into the Inn. There is a brief pause in the conversation whilst the locals check these new arrivals out...when a lute appears from beneath the cloak of the tallest man, the atmosphere eases and the barkeep shouts a welcome..."Come to sing for your supper Lads? Take a place next to the fire over there and sing us songs of far off lands, of sunshine and summers, of happier times...". The group, five men in total, move next to the closest fire and launch into a rousing version of the Crusader's Lady, Summer comes to Irrisen and Dance a Merry Dance...it isn't long before people are singing along and one or two merry souls start to dance.
Drusellia nods, adding a soft, "Please." She was careful not to let herself slip. The simple folk of this region could be so superstitious and might not take kindly to her presence.
" Thank you kind sir. I am wary though, the way Stoat talked, he's the sword and shield fighter, the Captain may kick me out. Stoat's never liked me much..."
Sighing again he sits back to enjoy his drink, even going so far as to tap his feet to the song of the minstrels.
Hey there's quite a few people here tonight that I don't know. Maybe things will start picking up again...Hey there's Luther!
Nodding his thanks again to the man, Conner picks up his drink and goes to sit by the young cleric. While they weren't really friends, at least it was a familiar face.
Haven't seen him in a while, but he seems to get in as much trouble as I do lately.
" Heya Luther! Studying hard?" He asks as he sits down.
"Hey Connor. I'd rather be in trouble than studying. All these evil gods seem quite similar--all I want to do is smash them all and let Abadar sort them out."
As Luther downs his drink and sees the entertainment, he closes his book and forgets it, his marker between pages three and four. He smiles at the cowled female and holds out a hand.
"Would you like to do a turn with me? I will try not to step on any of our feet."
The woman is momentarily taken aback by Luther's suggestion to dance. Does he suspect? Is this a ruse to expose me? At length, she relaxes visibly and takes his hand. "Yes," she says in accented Common, "I believe I would like to dance."
Symon is startled by the woman's acceptance to dance.
This should be interesting. I wonder how they will react when he discovers what she is?
huh. He's a sly one, wouldn't a been able to just ask her to dance like that
Watching Luther and the woman dance, Conner seems to forget his troubles for a moment.
I wonder if anyone else would like to dance...
He thinks as he starts looking for someone he knows, that he might dance with.
Luther dances with a natural motion and is following the music instinctively rather than following any mechanical precision. He holds the lady's hand loosely as he guides his partner on the floor. The word 'turn' he used seemed to mean that the dance would involve the switching of places rather than static positions, and Luther seems to have learned dances that involve the frequent exchange of positions through slow turns. Though by no means an accomplished dancer, Luther seems to be caught in the moment and smiles as he thinks of earlier times.
Yes, when angels dance, the world stops to watch. When I dance, I get to ditch my studies.
He comments philosophically to his dance partner: "As with most things in life, I believe in being an active participant and following my instincts. People think too much before they act."
The singing and dancing continues, members of the band occasionally moving into the crowd and dancing with the prettiest ladies before returning to their companions and taking up the songs again…
Luther whispers to Drusellia, leaning in very close:
Luther leads Drusellia over towards one of the band members while doing an unconventional dance.
Conner near swoons as he dances around with the stranger.
She is beautiful! How lucky can i be!
Whirling and leaning close, he notices nothing save the beauty before him.
Luther and Drusellia dance, in their less than subtle manner, over towards the band…who smile quizzically at the pair and continue to play their songs…
As the hour grows late, the songs played by the band become slower and more wistful…the dancers drift back to their seats and sing along to ballads about travellers, heroes of days gone past and the hardships of the River Kingdoms…several songs talk of the Emerald Spire and fallen adventurers who sought their fortune...
"Whew! That was fun and hot. I'm glad you asked me. Thank you."
Conner tells his dance partner as he drifts back towards the bar.
As the music slows and the mood mellows, Conner will buy a round of ales for Luther and his lady friend as well as himself.
Watching Luther and Drusellia dance, Conner catches Luther's eye and holds up the tray of mugs at the table.
" Refreshment for when you are done!"
Symon continues to watch the Drow woman and her partner as they dance towards the band.
Luther adds with a smile. "I humbly request you hand it over. We do not need to involve others." But Luther is far from convincing.
Under the watchful gaze of Luther and the lady that he is dancing with, one of the band members puts his instrument to one side, walks over to a nearby table and mumbling something about finding this on the floor, drops a key on the table and quickly rejoins his companions…
The hour approaches midnight and customers start to drift away to their homes or, if they are staying at the Juliver, up the stairs to their rooms. The band start to play a wistful farewell tune as one of the whistle players comes around the table asking for ‘donations’ for the evening’s entertainment. The fires, stoked so well during the night, are reduced to embers…it would appear that the night has come to an end…until fate plays it’s hand…
The door crashes open, a cold blast of air chills the room and the mood becomes steely cold as, stepping through the threshold, come three black armoured Hellknights…trailing behind them, a lady who left the Inn some half an hour previous…
While Hellknights are widely feared and respected, the common Hellknight joins out of a sense of duty and a wish to be a part of something greater, seeing a world ruled by just laws and free of rampaging beasts and cheating thieves as a future well worth striving toward, even at the sacrifice of a little freedom. Countries and rulers sometimes invite Hellknights into their lands, leaving the dirty business of harsh law enforcement to an already loathed third party, although, convincing Hellknights to leave once they've been welcomed sometimes proves problematic for more freedom-loving societies.
A voice, as cold as the winter outside, announces to all within the Inn, ”A theft has been reported, this citizen’s purse was stolen within these premises this evening…No-one is to leave this establishment until questioning is complete”, as if to reiterate the message, the knight’s fingers tap menacingly on the staff of the halberd he is carrying.
There is a brief silence, no-one speaks or moves until one of the band members drops his lute and, shouting a warning to his companions, sprints towards the rear of the bar area. In his hurry to get away, customers and furniture are roughly pushed out of the way…there is a flash of steel as a dagger appears in the hands of the first band member to run…
The lead Hellknight shouts, ”Stop Them!!!!”
Not wanting to draw unwanted attention to himself, Symon keeps out of the way.
Marian chuckles to himself, sipping his last order through the commotion. Having been acquainted with the hellknight order many years ago, he decided to keep his head down this evening, gripping the hilt of his great blade in a lounging position.
"That's the best escape route you can come up with?" He mutters to himself.
Bad Idea, drawing steel against the Hellknights....
Conner slowly shakes his head, and takes a drink.
Peering over the rim of his mug, he tries to see if the accuser is someone he knows or not...
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The first of the thieves to run reaches the bar and vaulting over it, he bundles into the barkeeper…the Halfling shouts out in pain and, his knees buckling, falls backwards. The other three band members make it to the rear of the room, clearly intent on escaping through the door behind the bar, whilst two of the heavily clad Hellknights pursue them…
Moving towards the fallen Halfling, one of the serving girls screams, ”He’s hurt, Papa’s hurt…”
Druselia, being careful to remain within the shadows, flicks her hand at one of the fleeing thieves and speaks a single word in an arcane tongue.
Conner will get up from the table and move toward the fallen Halfling.
" How bad is it? Do we need a healer?"
He will ask as he tries to get near.
Luther waves his hands:
"I am a healer." and quickly touches the fallen halfling while holding forth his holy symbol of Abadar. A large infusion of healing power fills the fallen halfling.
" Oh. Sorry Luther. I tend not to think of you in that regard...."
" Was anybody else hurt?"
One of the thieves suddenly stops in their escape attempt, preferring instead to gaze at the ceiling, a peculiar look of fascination on his face...moments later a black-mailed fist clamps down upon his shoulder...”Don’t think about trying to run again…it’s a night in chains for you”.
The remaining three thieves crash through the door behind the bar…there is the sound of metal and glass falling to the floor as they try to make their escape…
Conner and Luther attend to the fallen Halfling, his wound is grievous yet the Cleric’s words stem the flow of blood and the victim regains consciousness, ”What? Where? Hey You…Stop!!!!”, he feels his stomach, feels where he was stabbed, sees the blood and promptly passes out again….
The stunned silence that had befallen the bar dissipates as people start realising what has happened and demand their purses back…
”SILENCE!!!! The Order of the Pike will return your property on the morrow when we pass judgement on this stranger…assemble at the Gate before Nine of the Morning…and see how we deal with those who step outside the law in Fort Inevitable”
Glancing at Luther over the injured Halfling, Conner whispers..
"I have no desire to see that..."
His jolly mood now forgotten, he slumps a little, remembering his day.
Luther looks at the blood on his hands as he rises after making sure the Halfling is recovered with another burst of healing.
He bows to Drusiellia as he holds up his bloody hands as an excuse:
"We can resume our dance another time. I would not want to stain your cloak."
Snapping back to reality, the addled thief is manacled and led from the bar. With the Hellknights departed, the mood is subdued, the clientele slowly drift off into the night whilst those who remain are in a sombre mood. A round of drinks is brought to Luther and to Conner in gratitude for saving Pa Juliver...but the atmosphere in the Inn couldn't be farther from where it had been earlier in the evening.
After a good night's rest, the morning arrives...a grey mist shrouds the Fort...yesterday's snow has frozen rendering the road and paths treacherously slippery. The temperature has risen slightly so that huddled against the rest of the crowd at the Gate Market, it isn't as cold as it might have been. Approaching the crowd, you can see that their attention is on a platform at the northern end of the market. There, flanked by black armoured Hellknights stand the thief of the night before. A silence washes across the crowd as a woman climbs the platform and addresses the crowd, also dressed in the black garb of a Hellknight, this tall imposing woman clearly holds a position of power...and knows it.
"Last Night, the Order of the Pike apprehended this man in the course of robbery at the Juliver Arms...he has admitted to those crimes and to more besides...he has confessed to membership of the Splinters of Echo Wood...the brigands who waylay the caravans that trade with us, who steal our crops, who steal from our homes....", she lets the words hang in the air whilst murmurs of retribution echo around the square. "For his crimes, there is but one sentence...he must hang and his body left for carrion...a warning to those who would challenge the law of this land...Our land...sentence has been passed and, in due course, a time of execution will be announced"
"Let it be known that the Order of the Pike knows where this illegal guild is based and that a bounty is offered for their leader, Tarrin Dars. Those brave and skilled enough should come to the Citadel to discuss the bounty with myself"
Luther smiles grimly and says:
"In for a penny, in for a pound. A good reason to avoid any studies. I can get credit for this with my boss."
He turns to the others
"I think I will take this job, but I can use some help. It may get some of us back in the good graces you know."
Drusellia nods in agreeance. "Yes, this would be beneficial for me, as well."
"Well, if I can't prevent cargo from being stolen, maybe I can prove my worth to the Badalisks by retrieving it ! " He nods to Luther
"Count me in."
Marian sparks a bowl in his pipe, drawing on it deeply with a shake of his head he mutters.
"Pity, I thought there'd be a hangin'..."
He eats a small piece of hard cheese from his belt pouch, smiling at a familiar trio of the colorful barfolk from the night before as he saunters away from the crowd.
"Pardon, but could you nice folks point a pilgrim towards the citadel?"
Dressed in dark linens, furs, a heavy canvas cloak Marian smells of the outdoors. His plentiful jewelry running the gamut from glamorous to gaudy, each finger sporting a ring, as well as several pendants hanging around his neck, all gleaming of copper, brass, silver and gold. With a sleek auburn beard under a mop of unkempt hair, Mary's soft, feminine facial features draw a contrary to his wide shoulders.
Symon is not too sure what to think about this group forming. On one hand he could easily disappear into the crowd and continue his solitary existence, but the Drow intrigues him.
"Umm, Hi! I am Symon and I would like to join your party searching for these brigands. I have skills in getting around quietly and am not unfamiliar with the workings of lock and other such devices."
He looks over the group, trying hard to look capable and worthy.
The Commander’s Citadel is an imposing structure, standing more than ninety feet tall in the southern wall of the Fort. With the snow and the white walls of the fortification, there is a very monochromatic, cold ambience to the place. Crunching up the path to the entrance, your way is blocked by two Hellknights; once they hear that you wish to discuss the bounty on Tarrin Dars, they size you up…clearly assessing whether you are up to the task, and then stand aside. As you open the doors into the building, you can clearly hear a stifled laugh from one of the guards.
The doors open into a large vestibule, several guards are going about their business and one, acknowledging your entrance directs you to the offices of the Lady Commander. Her chambers, directly off of the Vestibule are open and, seeing your arrival, she bids you enter. Her manner remains as formal as it was in the Gate market, ”You wish to pursue the bounty on Tarrin Dars? Very well…It is well known that our Order remains understrength...and is stretched thin enough merely protecting the local environs…I am not so proud as to avoid asking a third party to solve our ‘shared’ problem…the bounty for the leader of the outlaws stands at 1000 Gold, payable upon bringing Tarrin Dars back to Fort Inevitable to answer for her crimes. She must stand accountable for her crimes…and an example made”.
”The confessions from our captive confirmed what we already suspected, Tarrin and her gang are holed up in the Spire…quite how she has gained entry and made it secure is anyone’s guess…little matter though, it does at least make her easy to locate”, she looks at Conner and Luther, and rhetorically asks, ”You, of course, know where the Emerald Spire is?”
The Lady Commander takes another look at you, and appears to consider something before shaking her head and warning you that the woods around the Spire have become perilously infested with dangerous creatures of late. ”Now, do you have any questions? I would have this problem resolved as soon as possible…”
"You might as well follow us Pilgrim. We're headed there now. Well met Symon. I guess we could use your help. I am Conner and this is Luther. "