SESSION 27C: THE SAINT OF CHAOS

September 7th, 2008
The 15th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Tee didn’t argue with Ranthir. They returned to the Ghostly Minstrel and reconvened with the others, quickly describing what they had seen.

Elestra was more than happy to let the cultists fight amongst themselves. Agnarr, on the other hand, was still urging them to charge in the front door. “We’ll catch them by surprise!”

Tee was convinced that the insectoid creatures were going to be used in some sort of an attack on the Commissar, and their discussion turned to what their primary goal had become: Was it to shut down the project? To protect Iltumar? Or somehow do both?

Tor talked about his plans to take Iltumar out the next day. “If he’s looking for something more exciting, maybe we can offer that to him.”

“But isn’t tit possible he’ll just think we’re trying to control his life?” Ranthir asked.

“That’s right,” Elestra agreed. “Tell a boy not to do something and he’ll do it just to spite you.”

Tee, reflecting on the fact that Elestra was scarcely older than Iltumar, shook her head. “I got the impression that, if I left, I’d be hunted down and killed. Even if we could somehow convince Iltumar to quit, just pulling him out could still be dangerous.”

In the end, they decided to wait until the next day. Tee would take her shift in disguise at midnight. And if Tor could pull Iltumar away so that they could be sure he wouldn’t be on duty, they would try an assault on the complex.

“Without Tor?” Dominic asked.

“I’d prefer to have his sword,” Tee said. “But we need to make sure that Iltumar isn’t the line of fire.”

“Aren’t we worried about the giant insect things?” Dominic asked, clearly worried about the giant insect things.

“They were afraid of a moving curtain,” Tee said. “I’m not too worried about them.”

“If they’re easily startled, I’ve got a cantrip that can make dancing lights,” Ranthir said.

Dominic laughed. “Ah! Lights! Lights! Look out for the lights!”

Tee grinned. “Agnarr! Get away from those lights and hit those things!”

They all laughed. Even Agnarr.

MISSIVE FROM THE MIGHTY

There was a knock at the door.

Elestra answered it and found Tellith standing in the hall.

“Oh, good. Master Agnarr is with you,” Tellith smiled. “I have a message for him.” She held out a piece of folded parchment.

Agnarr came to the door, grabbed the letter, and grunted a thank you. Elestra thanked her as well and then shut the door.

As soon as the door was shut, Agnarr passed the parchment to Tee. She read it aloud to him.

Master Agnarr—

As we have not received word from you in several weeks, we are urgently seeking confirmation that you are not, in fact, dead. If this letter should reach your hand, please send us a couriered response indicating your continued good health.

The Order of Iron Might

Agnarr had no idea what this Order might be, but Tee was familiar with them. They were a guild of warriors based out of the Citadel of Might near the Arena in Oldtown. Tee had never been there, but she understood it to be a hiring hall of sorts for mercenaries, guards, and sellswords. She had some impression that Dorant Khatru, the Merchant Prince of House Khatru, served as the Order’s guildmaster.

“Do you think you joined them… before?” Elestra asked. “You know, when we lost our memories?”

Agnarr shrugged. “It’s possible.”

Links to their missing past had proven few and hard to come by. Tee was particularly enthusiastic about the prospect of following up on this one. She and Dominic both agreed to accompany Agnarr while he paid a visit to the Citadel of Might.

A KNIGHT’S TRAINING

Tor, meanwhile, had training to attend to. He headed into the Temple District. Sir Kabel met him at the entrance of the Godskeep and escorted him to the training field just outside the southern gate. There he was introduced to Sera Nara – a lithe and attractive woman with dark, copper brown skin. She wore her dark hair in a long braid down to her waist. The entire braid was tightly bound with bands of gold, and the tip was capped with a sharply-edged blade of mithril.

“Nara will be your instructor,” Kabel said. “I’ll have to leave Tor in your capable hands, Sera. I have to meet with Gemmell regarding the tourney rosters.”

Kabel went off about his business and Nara got down to hers. She adopted a practical, no-nonsense approach, but was clearly impressed with Tor’s ability with the blade.

“I practiced for many years,” Tor explained. “But these past few weeks it seems as if all that training suddenly makes sense.”

“Of course,” Nara nodded. “Your life has been at a risk. When the blood boils, the blade and body become as one. The heat of battle has made you a warrior. Now we will hone that ability into the skills of a knight.”

They worked hard. The session lasted for nearly two hours. Tor proved to be a fast learner, quickly mastering the rudimentary elements of the Order’s martial training.

“We perceive the world through sight and sound and touch,” Sera Nara said. “But all of us share a deeper connection with reality, as well. If you listen with your soul you can hear the Song of the World – the divine melody which links us all, man and god alike. Through the motions of his blade, a warrior’s body can harmonize with the Song. You will see your opponents without sight; hear them without sound; strike them without thought.”

When the training was nearly complete, Tor became aware that Kabel had returned. The knight stood a goodly distance from the practice field, but his attention was clearly focused on them.

Nara eventually finished. She complimented him again and told him to return to the field in two days. As Tor was gathering up his armor, Kabel made his way over to him.

“Master Tor. How was your training?”

“Exhausting.”

Kabel laughed. “Sera Nara is a demanding teacher. But these are demanding times. I think it’s more important than ever that you become a knight as quickly as possible.”

Tor smiled. “I would like that very much.”

“As would I.” Kabel returned his smile. “Now, a question. Do you know if Dominic has met with Rehobath again?”

Tor shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

“That’s to the good,” Kabel said. “Hopefully this dark chapter can be put behind us soon. If all goes well, I will have much to tell you when you return.”

Kabel made his farewells. Tor was curious about his enigmatic parting, but all he could really do was wait.

THE COMING OF TAVAN ZITH

Agnarr, Tee and Dominic, meanwhile, had entered Oldtown on their way to the Citadel of Might.

They had just turned off Dalenguard Road onto Four Fountains Street when their ears were assaulted by sudden screams. They were crossing the mouth of Whipstone Street, and turning that way they could see the tightly packed crowd of the merchant road suddenly surging towards them. There were shouts of “Fire!” and “Run!”

Moments later, a half-orc tore into view. He was completely engulfed in flame, but – despite his own screams and the look of terror in his eyes – the flames didn’t seem to be hurting him. However, when the half-orc grabbed onto a woman near him – in what looked like desperation – the flames did burn her. Badly.

Their crisis instincts kicked in. Dominic threaded his way through the crowd, trying to reach the woman who had been burned. Agnarr, meanwhile, hurled a waterskin at the half-orc. This, however, simply burned away in a cloud of steam without having any effect on the fire.

Tee kept her distance, but shouted at the half-orc to stop. “How can we help? What’s happening?”

But the half-orc didn’t seem to hear her. “What’s happening to me? I’m burning! Help me! For the love of the gods, someone help me!” His voice was tortured with panic.

And then, suddenly, the half-orc’s flames pulsed brightly. Dominic, having drawn near in his efforts to help the woman, was scorched.

Agnarr, seeing Dominic hurt, lost his patience with the situation. He tried to knock the half-orc out. Unfortunately, his efforts only succeeded in making the half-orc even more panicky.

Tee could see that the situation was getting out of control. She ran down the street – getting close to the half-orc and practically shouting into his face. “Stop it! We’re trying to help you, but you have to stop it! You’re hurting people!”

Something in her sharply spoken words – or perhaps the sudden appearance of a lithe elfling directly in his path – shocked the half-orc out of his panic. He looked around the street, seeming to see the scene around himself for the first time. Then he sagged to his knees, his face taut with pain. “It hurts…”

But the flames still weren’t hurting him. Dominic, laid a soothing blessing on the woman who had suffered burns, and then – at Tee’s signal – moved in to examine the half-orc (albeit it from a safe distance).

Now that the half-orc was more of a curiosity than a threat, the crowd that had been scattering in a rapid retreat instead began to draw closer. But just as it seemed as if they had successfully calmed the situation, another man suddenly grabbed at his eyes. Bolts of blue lightning shot out of them, striking several people in the crowd. The thick stench of ozone filled the air. At least a half dozen people collapsed.

Panic erupted once again. In the midst of it, Tee was suddenly struck by the sight of a dark-cloaked man striding boldly down the street and seemingly oblivious to the chaos around him.

He seemed so incongruous that Tee’s suspicions were immediately tweaked. She headed in his direction and hadn’t gotten far before she saw him brush past an older woman in her fifties. The woman almost immediately started floating up into the air. “Help! Help me! The demons have me! They have me by the arms! Help!”

“Agnarr!” Tee called back over her shoulder. “The man in black! I think he’s doing something!”

Agnarr tried to push his way through the crowd, but didn’t seem to be catching up. Finally he lost his patience and bellowed. “OUT OF THE WAY!”

The crowd parted before him, allowing Agnarr to abruptly catch up to the mysterious figure and swing away with his greatsword.

“Oh!” Tee gasped. “But I’m not even sure if he’s actually causing… Never mind.”

With some preternatural sense, the man barely managed to duck out of the way of Agnarr’s blow. Then he whirled, revealing a muffled face, and cried out in an imperious voice, “You dare to molest me, miscreant?”

… but then he caught sight of Agnarr’s imposing figure and apparently decided that flight was the better part of valor. He whirled away and took off running down the street, displaying an amazing agility at slipping through the now near-riotous crowd trying to escape from the chaos in the street. An elf he passed suddenly screamed and collapsed to the ground.

Agnarr was momentarily startled at the abrupt flight. He was even more startled in the next instant to find himself beginning to secrete acid through his skin. It burned sharply, but he gritted his teeth through the pain and ran after the man, ducking narrowly to avoid one of the blasts of lightning scorching through the air with the scent of ozone.

Dominic, meanwhile, was studying the half-orc. The flames weren’t burning him, but there was no denying the pain that the half-orc was feeling. In fact, the flames seemed to be feeding on him in some way – consuming his fundamental vitality in much the same way that a soul-thirsting undead might.

Tee was having some success in following in Agnarr’s wake, but she was losing ground. In frustration she pulled up short, notched an arrow in her bow, and took a shot.

It clipped the dark-clad figure’s shoulder as he ducked around the corner at the far end of the street, still desperately trying to escape from Agnarr’s blows.

Tee renewed her pursuit. As she neared the corner herself, she came upon a dwarf staring at the wall. Globules of black energy poured from his eyes… and a giant octopus appeared half-embedded in the wall, its long tentacles thrashing limply. Tee cursed silently, but decided it was a problem she’d have to deal with later.

Dominic, meanwhile, had figured out how to sustain the rapidly deteriorating half-orc… but his efforts weren’t actually curing his condition, only alleviating it. While he was trying to figure out a more permanent solution, several members of the city watch came running up from Four Fountains Street. Spotting Dominic’s robes, one of the watchmen approached him. “Have you got that under control?”

Dominic looked up. “Umm… More or less.”

Agnarr finally caught up with his quarry. At the last possible instant, the dark-clad figure whirled in an effort to defend himself, but Agnarr’s blade cut too fast and too strong, viciously slashing through the figure’s chest.

Grasping at his bleeding torso, the man doubled over. “You would dare the wrath of Tavan Zith?!”

And then Tee’s arrow took him in the throat. Zith collapsed to the street, his breath gurgling and blood bubbling from his wounds.

THE AFTERMATH OF TAVAN ZITH

But the chaos he had wreaked did not abate: The half-orc still burned. The lightning-eyed man was still firing randomly in all directions.

And the dwarf Tee had passed before was still summoning fell creatures into their midst: A massive hound – standing taller than a man’s shoulder (although perhaps not as tall as Agnarr’s shoulder) and wreathed in living shadow – appeared suddenly at the corner of Whipstone Street. Directly behind Tee. The crowds started running in a new direction.

Tee cursed and ran down the street towards Agnarr.

Before she could get there, however, Agnarr had reached down and grabbed the dying Zith by his hair. Hauling him up he was shocked to discover the features of a dark-skinned elf – just like Shilukar. But the shock didn’t stop him from cutting off his head.

Tee came skidding to a halt next to him. “Agnarr! What are you doing?”

“It didn’t work!” Agnarr, gasping in pain, held up one of his acid-coated hands.

“We needed to question him!”

“And we will.” Agnarr took off the iron collar from Ghul’s Labyrinth and snapped it around the dark elf’s neck. “Dominic should be able to heal this.” He grimaced again at the pain from the acid. “I think you might need to kill me… Maybe that would stop it.”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t love to do that,” Tee said. “But—“

“But I have work to do.” Agnarr nodded. Then he grinned. He turned down the street and ran back towards where the hound of shadows was spreading panic.

Tee, meanwhile, grabbed Zith’s body and stuffed it into her bag of holding.

Meanwhile, back by Dominic, the city watchmen were spreading out. They formed a perimeter around the lightning-eyed man and – before Dominic realized what they were doing – shot him dead.

“For the glory!” Agnarr charged through the panicking throngs. The suddenly flaming sword had a less than calming effect on the crowd, but it caught and tore at the insubstantial flesh-stuff of the shadow hound.

The beast – in terrible pain – threw back its head and howled. It was a sound born from the stygian pits of utter darkness, carrying in its very note a primal terror. It echoed off the buildings of the city. At its passing, a wave of supernatural fear swept over the entire block. People began scattering in complete panic. Even Tee couldn’t resist its effects, joining the screaming throngs in mindless flight.

The dwarf responsible for summoning the strange creatures suddenly leapt onto Agnarr’s back. “No! Leave it alone you! You mustn’t hurt it!”

Agnarr managed to shrug off the frenzied dwarf. Then with a final swing of his greatsword he finished off the shadowy hound. He twirled back towards the dwarf— And found an axe swinging at his head.

He narrowly turned the blow so that it only cut lightly into his armored side and then slammed the flat of his own blade into the dwarf’s face. The dwarf slumped into unconsciousness, his face badly scorched from the flames of the blade.

Back at the other end of the street, the city watchmen had thrown a rope around the floating woman and were pulling her back down to earth. Once her feet touched the ground, her condition seemed to pass. But the half-orc was still burning and his condition was deteriorating rapidly.

Dominic, however, had seen that death seemed to have stopped the lightning-bolts being hurled from the eyes of the other man. He was able to heal the man’s wounds and return breath to his body. And when he did, the condition didn’t reappear.

As he was finishing, the commander of the watchmen approached him. “I know you… You’re the Chosen of Vehthyl.”

“Umm… Yes.” Dominic was already uncomfortable with this conversation and it hadn’t even properly begun.

“What caused this?”

“I’m not… really sure.”

Agnarr came trotting up. “I am.” He quickly explained about the “sorcerer” who had been responsible for releasing these dangerous abilities.

“And what happened to him?” the commander asked.

“He escaped,” Agnarr said without missing a beat. “He ran that way.” He pointed in a plausible direction.

Dominic thought that the only way to cure the half-orc might be to kill him and then bring him back from the dead. The half-orc was terrified by the idea, but agreed. Before Dominic could say anything else, Agnarr thrust his flaming sword straight into the half-orc’s chest—

And a massive explosion ripped its way out of the half-orc’s chest and gouted its way down the length of the entire block!

An unnatural pressure wave preceding the blast threw Agnarr clear of it. He sat up and shook his head. “What happened?”

Fortunately the street had already been virtually abandoned and the members of the city watch had been far enough away that they weren’t injured.

The only thing left of the half-orc, however, was a desiccated corpse… Which, thankfully, no longer burned. Dominic had to work for several minutes – stitching sinew and regrowing skin through the sheer lifeforce of his faith – but he was finally able to restore some semblance of life to the half-orc’s pain-wracked body.

Agnarr, meanwhile, was stripping out of his armor in an effort to prevent it from any further damage. The acid-scarring hadn’t caused any structural damage yet, but his clothes were already badly scarred in many places.

“We’ll have to get you some new clothes,” Dominic said.

“Why?” Agnarr said. “There’s just a few holes!”

“It’s… umm… more about where the holes are located.”

Like the half-orc, Dominic only saw one solution. In a controlled fashion he stopped Agnarr’s heart, killing him. Then he immediately used his skills and divine gifts to revive him.

It worked. The acid stopped oozing from Agnarr’s pores.

TEE RETURNS TO THE SCENE

By the time her head cleared, Tee found herself on High Road, looking down off the Oldtown cliffs towards the sea. She cursed under her breath.

After a moment’s thought, she set off at a running pace towards the Ghostly Minstrel. Once there she barged into Ranthir’s room.

“Mistress Tee?”

Without saying a word she pulled Zith’s corpse half out of her bag of holding and then stuffed it back in. He was on her heels as she turned and headed back out into the street.

They were able to grab a carriage in Delver’s Square. As they rode back towards Oldtown, Tee filled him in on what she’d seen. “We’re not sure what we’re dealing with. I’m hoping you’ll be able to figure it out.”

“I’ll do my best.”

By the time they reached the ramp leading up into Oldtown, however, the watch had sealed the upper city.

It turned out that the bay of the shadow hound had affected a wide swath of the city. And in the tightly-packed confines of Oldtown the effects had been devastating: Riotous crowds and madhouse conditions. There had even been some reports of people throwing themselves out of windows in blind panic.

Tee, however, managed to identify herself as an associate of the Chosen of Vehthyl. Fortunately the guards stationed on the roadblock had apparently heard reports that Dominic had been helping them at the source of the disturbance. They let Tee and Ranthir through the blockade.

When they arrived back at the scene, they discovered that Dominic and Agnarr had already left. Everyone who had been directly affected by Zith’s attack had been quarantined on Whipstone Street. Things were firmly under control, but the watch commander was more than glad to accept Ranthir’s mystical expertise.

After examining those affected, Ranthir identified the effect as an uncontrolled explosion of sorcerous potential. “We all have a connection to the same arcane forces that I use in the casting of my spells,” he explained. “In some that connection is stronger than in others. It appears that in these victims that connection has been exploited. In layman’s terms, it’s been ripped open – power flows through it in a completely uncontrolled fashion.”

This meant little to any of them, but Ranthir was able to confirm that all of them had been fully cured.

But the dwarf kept screaming about the voices whispering in his ears. And the elf who had collapsed was now babbling in what appeared to be glossolalic tongues.

“So what’s wrong with them?” Tee asked.

“There’s no lingering effect of a mystical nature,” Ranthir said. “But whatever happened to them must have broken their minds. Killing them won’t help.”

The commander of the watch nodded sharply and then turned to one of his men. “We’ll send them to Mahdoth’s Asylum, then.”

Suddenly, out of the elf’s mad gibberings, Tee’s sharp ears caught a meaningful phrase: “The lance… The lance is coming…”

She had said something like that herself once, as her mind emerged from madness. The similarity struck her to the soul.

There was nothing else to be done there. Ranthir and Tee returned to the Ghostly Minstrel, hoping to find the others there ahead of them.

NEXT:
Running the Campaign: Playing to the Crowd – Campaign Journal: Session 27D
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 26D: ELESTRA DIGS DEEP

August 24th, 2008
The 14th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

As two o’clock neared, Elestra headed to Tavern Row.

The Onyx Spider was a large, squat, two-story building wedged into the south end of Tavern Row. Elestra knew it to have a seedy and dangerous reputation. And as she passed through the front doors into the common room, it wasn’t hard to figure out where the tavern had gotten its name from: In the center of the room, levitating ten feet off the floor and embedded in a huge crystal sphere, was a giant spider carved from black onyx. It looked expensive.

Elestra spotted Jamill at the bar and pushed her way through the crowd to where he was standing.

“So you’re interested in the Brotherhood?” Jamill asked her, stonefaced.

Elestra nodded. “I might be interested in joining.”

“Might be?”

“I guess I just want to know about it.”

Jamill’s brow furrowed. “Right. Okay, who told you about the Brotherhood?”

Elestra hesitated. “A friend.”

“Who?”

“Well, it was more a friend of a friend… you know?”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t really… He kind of spoke to me in confidence and…”

Jamill slammed back the last of his amber-colored drink. “Okay, this is your last chance. Who sent you?”

Elestra suddenly became aware that two rather large men with short clubs strapped to their thighs had suddenly materialized out of the crowd behind her. She stammered, unable to find any kind of answer that would satisfy Jamill.

Jamill jerked his head and headed towards the back of the bar. The two thugs laid their hands on Elestra’s arms. She got the message and let them hustle her out through the back door of the tavern.

As they stepped through the door into the narrow alley behind the Onyx Spider, however, the two thugs briefly took their hands off Elestra. She immediately called upon the Spirit of the City and began her transformation in to a bird, hoping to fly away.

But the thugs were too quick for her. A large hand snapped out and grabbed the fragile sparrow-Elestra in mid-flight. She could feel it crushing the delicate bones of her new form and she was forced to abandon the attempt.

The two thugs reached for their clubs, but even as she landed lightly on the floor of the alley, Elestra was quick to draw her rapier. Her blade lashed out at the face of one of the thugs, cutting a deep gash through one cheek.

The thug screamed in pain, but even as Elestra grinned with satisfaction she felt the other thug’s club smash into her already aching ribs. Ignoring the blinding flash of pain, she spun around and cut a matching gash across the second thug’s cheek.

Jamill stepped out of the alley. He had drawn a longsword, but his swing seemed slow and clumsy to Elestra. She easily parried it and drove her own blade viciously past his defenses, skewering him through the stomach.

With a deep groan, Jamill let his longsword slip from his fingers and sank to the dirty cobbles of the alley. The two thugs stared at Elestra, glanced at each other, and then ran off in opposite directions.

Thinking quickly, Elestra grabbed Jamill (who had now slipped from shock into unconsciousness), threw him over her shoulder, and headed north towards the Ghostly Minstrel. Circumspectly circling around the inn, Elestra snuck in through the kitchen and headed upstairs.

She grabbed Agnarr from his room and left him to bind and blindfold Jamill in her room while she went back downstairs to leave a message with Tellith to let the others know that she would like them to come up to her room as soon as they returned.

TEE IS THE CLEVER ONE

Tee and Dominic arrived back at the Ghostly Minstrel together. Receiving Elestra’s message (by way of Tellith) they headed up to her room.

When they knocked, Elestra cracked the door slightly and peeked out at them. “Oh! Hello!” She visibly scanned the hall behind them to make sure that it was empty, then ushered them inside.

Agnarr was sitting on the bed with a vaguely bored expression on his face. Jamill was trussed up in the middle of the room, still unconscious. Elestra shuffled her feet nervously.

Tee looked back and forth between the three of them. “What am I looking at, exactly?”

Elestra, in a slightly disjointed fashion, explained everything that had happened. Tee was unbelieving. Wasn’t this exactly what she had told Elestra not to do?

“And then you brought him here?” Tee said, incredulously. “Why would you—“

Another knock came at the door. Tee quickly waved Elestra out of the way and cracked the door.

It was Tor.

“I had a message from Elestra to come up?”

Tee nodded. “Elestra has created a… situation.” She opened the door wide enough for Tor to see Jamill. “And it would probably be better if you weren’t part of this developing disaster.”

“Haven’t you just told him pretty much everything there is to tell?” Dominic said. “Just let him in.”

But Tor nodded to Tee and left. Tee shut the door.

“What—“ Elestra started.

“Shhh.” Tee cut her off. “Let me think.”

She had asked Elestra not to go asking questions, but she had. And now she was faced with almost exactly the type of situation she had feared: A cultist in their rooms, compromising whatever safety or security might be left at the Ghostly Minstrel. Anywhere else would have been—

“Elestra, I need you to go out and find a vacant warehouse. Somewhere far away from here. Try the South Market.”

“What are you—?”

“Just go. We’ve got to get this done before he wakes up.” Elestra left. Tee turned to Dominic and Agnarr. “You two stay here and keep an eye on him. If it looks like he’s going to wake up, knock him out again.”

Tee dashed out of the room and headed across Delver’s Square to Ebbert’s. She bought a strange, eclectic collection of material and then returned to the Ghostly Minstrel as quickly as she could.

By the time Elestra returned with the location of a suitable warehouse in the South Market, Tee had stripped down the common items she had purchased and assembled the makeshift components of a primitive disguise. Her biggest goal had been to make herself look human instead of elfish, hoping that would be enough to throw people off the trail if it came to that. (Of course, Elestra hadn’t been disguised at all… but there wasn’t much she could do about that.)

Tee had Agnarr and the others carry Jamill downstairs and load him into a carriage, making protestations as he went about how his friend had had “too much to drink”. Tee surreptiously joined them a few moments later. She bribed the carriage driver well and had him drop them off at the empty warehouse.

TEE HUSTLES

There was a dilapidated chair in the corner of the warehouse. She had Agnarr tie Jamill to it and then told everyone to wait outside.

“Will you be okay?” Agnarr asked.

“If not, you’ll hear me shouting. I have big lungs.” Tee gave a slightly nervous grin.

Once the others had left, though, she slipped the broken square ring that they had found in Pythoness House onto her finger and pushed those nervous feelings deep inside and set her face in a look of cold determination. Then she slapped Jamill awake.

“I’m ashamed of you.”

Jamill shook his head. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

Tee removed his blindfold, carefully making sure that he would see the ring on her finger without letting him know that she was trying to make sure he saw it.

Jamill shook his head again, trying to get his bleary eyes to focus. “What happened?”

“You couldn’t handle a little girl?” Scorn dripped from Tee’s voice. “A little girl who turns into a bird?”

Jamill suddenly turned surly. “She was tougher than she looked…”

“She’s been dealt with,” Tee said with a finality that made it clear that Jamill was lucky that he hadn’t been “dealt with”, too. “You’re an embarrassment. You’re embarrassing us. Get out of town. Don’t come back.”

And then she left him… still tied up.

BACK TO ELESTRA’S ROOM

Tee rejoined the others. She stripped off her disguise and they returned to the Ghostly Minstrel, gathering Ranthir and Tor on their way back to Elestra’s room.

They quickly compared their notes from the day. Tor filled them in on his fear that Iltumar might be followed by cultists, his meeting with Shim, and the news that they had been followed.

“But Shim said that it was an Imperial priestess.”

“What does that mean?” Elestra said.

“Do you think that the Church might be in league with the cultists somehow?” Tee said.

Dominic suddenly looked queasy and uncertain.

“Or perhaps there are just some members of the Church who are cultists,” Ranthir said. “The Truth of the Hidden God said that the Brotherhood of the Blooded Knife infiltrates religions.”

“Is it possible that Rehobath is working with Wuntad?” Elestra asked.

A flurry of panicky hypotheses followed, but then Tor held up his hands. “There’s something else you should all know.” He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to express something that felt like a confession. “I’ve started taking steps towards becoming a knight with the Order of the Dawn…”

“Congratulations!” Tee said, a huge smile spreading across her face. “That’s wonderful!”

“But that means,” Tor said, “That the priestess might have been following me. The Order might be keeping an eye on me to make sure that I don’t do anything unworthy.”

To a large degree, all of this left them back at square one: Tee hadn’t dared to ask Jamill any questions because it might have made him suspicious enough for her gambit to fail. They didn’t know how to interpret the information that Shim had given to Tor. All they’d really done was to confirm that Iltumar was tied up with some very dangerous people.

“As much as I hate to say it,” Tee said, “Elestra may have had the right idea. If we move quickly, I might be able to find someone else in the Brotherhood that I can talk to by using Jamill’s name as a contact… before he has a chance to warn them or they discover that he’s missing.”

This didn’t thrill any of them, but it seemed like their best chance at this point.

“Of course,” Tee said with a withering look in Elestra’s direction. “I’ll be taking proper precautions.”

And she walked out.

NEXT:
Running the Campaign: Counterintelligence Vectors – Campaign Journal: Session 27A
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 26C: THE RIDDLE OF ILTUMAR

August 24th, 2008
The 14th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

THE KING’S ROAD

They headed back to the Ghostly Minstrel. In the lobby, they met Elestra on her way out, quickly filled her in on the details of the deal they had made, and gave her the platinum she was due.

“Where are you going now?” Tee asked.

“I’m just going out to the listen to the Spirit of the City,” Elestra said. “See what I can find out. Maybe ask around about the Brotherhood.”

“I don’t think you should,” Tee said. “I don’t want us drawing the kind of attention that asking those type of questions might bring. I don’t want to wake up with Wuntad in my room. I already did that with the Balacazars and I didn’t like it.”

“Okay,” Elestra said. “That’s probably true.”

While they were discussing their options, they were joined by the others. Ranthir returned to an idea that had occurred to them during the “meeting of all things” on the 11^th – that the prophecy referring to the “street of kings” could be a reference to King’s Road in the Nobles’ Quarter.

Feeling that they otherwise had a dearth of solid leads – and reflecting on the fact that Elestra had probably had a very close encounter with certain death when she had attempted to follow a similar lead on Brandywine Street by herself – they decided to head up to King’s Road together.

When they arrived, however, they realized they really had no idea what they were looking for.  The prophecy said: Arrived too late, the act has been done. The wind was against them, letters intercepted on their way. The conspirators were fourteen of a party. By the street of kings shall these enterprises by undertaken.

“Arrived too late?” Elestra said. “Does that mean we already missed it?”

Tee frowned. “Maybe. But even if we haven’t, it sounds like this is something that’s going to happen here. So unless we just happen to be here at the right time, I’m not sure what we’re going to see.”

In the Nobles’ Quarter, there were two major thoroughfares running away from the Dalenguard – Crown Street to the south and King’s Road to the north. Near the Dalenguard, King’s Road was filled with a variety of expensive shops, restaurants, and other storefronts dedicated to serving the rich and decadent tastes of the major merchant houses: Moleshan’s, The Jewel, Buckingham’s, The Dry Easel, and the like.

Further to the north, however, King’s Road ran past a number of merchant estates maintained by the major merchant house – Dallimothan, Nagel, and Rau – along with a number of other mansions, including Castle Shard.

Their particular attention was drawn to the Crown Theater – far enough to the north not to be lost in the sea of businesses near the Dalenguard, yet something more than enigmatic, luxurious, and inaccessible estate.

Making inquiries at the theater’s box office, they learned that the current production was The Merchant Warlord – a lavish opera telling the historical tale of Nulara Aretari, the warlord who married into the Aretari merchant family and served as the original First Commander of the nascent Mercenary Army during the Battle of Salesia, helping to create the modern nation of Arathia. Tickets were 25 gold crowns, a staggering sum that left Tee gaping.

A few minutes after they left the Crown Theater, the group was approached by a pair of city guardsmen. Upon reflection, they realized that they looked rather out of place among the pervading opulence of the Nobles’ Quarter, and that wandering openly up and down the length of King’s Road had probably attracted the wrong sorts of attention.

Tee flirtatiously talked the guards off them – weaving some tale about wanting to see a show at the Crown Theater – but the group decided that, since they didn’t seem to be accomplishing anything any way, it was probably time for them to leave. They returned to Midtown and then split up to go their separate ways.

TOR’S MORNING

Tor returned to the Bull and Bear Armory, where he found Iltumar manning the shop. After exchanging a few pleasantries, he asked Iltumar if Hirus was about.

“He’s upstairs tending to Sholum,” Iltumar said. “I’ll go get him. Can you keep an eye on things?”

Before Tor really had a chance to respond, Iltumar had bounded through the door in the back of the shop. Tor could hear him running up the stairs.

The shop was empty when Iltumar left, but a few moments later a young, blond-haired woman came in through the door. Tor suddenly felt himself to be bearing a responsibility he wasn’t sure how to discharge. He awkwardly explained to the woman that the shopkeep had just stepped out, but would be back in just a moment.

The woman nodded and began casually perusing the various weapons hanging along one wall. Tor kept a wary eye on her, but she didn’t seem to be doing anything suspicious. A few minutes later, Hirus and Iltumar came downstairs.

Iltumar moved to assist the woman who had been waiting, while Tor and Hirus stepped outside to have a private word. Tor ascertained that Iltumar had duties around the shop until midday, but after that would be free. Tor offered to take Iltumar riding with him after he’d finished his duties, if that would be all right with Hirus.

Hirus smiled. He thought that Iltumar would like that a great deal. Tor told him to let Iltumar know, and that he would be back at noon to pick him up.

Hirus went back into the Bull and Bear. Tor grabbed a carriage at the mouth of Delver’s Square and rode it to the alley off Yarrow Street where they had met with the enigmatic information broker known as Shim. Within mere moments of walking down the alley, he was rewarded with the sight of Shim slipping between the cracks of the wall.

“Master Tor,” Shim said with the sound of an unseen smile in his voice. “A pleasure to see you again. What can I help you with?”

For a minimal fee, Tor arranged for one of Shim’s men – whoever they might be – to keep an eye on him for the next few hours.

“You want me to keep an eye on… you?” Shim said, slightly bemused.

“That’s right,” Tor said. Although he didn’t tell Shim his exact suspicions, he suspected that the Brotherhood might be keeping Iltumar under observation. If they were, he wanted to know about it.

Leaving Shim’s alley, Tor returned to the Bull and Bear. Iltumar was waiting for him with an excited grin on his face.

“Have you ever jousted before?” Tor asked him as they stepped back out into the square.

Iltumar shook his head.

“Do you have a horse?”

Iltumar shook his head.

“Have you ever ridden before?”

Iltumar shook his head.

“Okay,” Tor said. “Let’s start by getting you a horse.”

They went to the stables behind the Ghostly Minstrel. Tor said hello to Blue and patted him on the nose, and then made some quick arrangements to rent a horse for Iltumar.

As they rode north along Lower God Row – Tor easing into the comfortable familiarity of the saddle and Iltumar awkwardly trying to stay on his mount – Tor gently tried to broach Iltumar’s thoughts.

“How have you been?”

Iltumar shrugged.

“Hirus has been worried about you.”

Iltumar’s whole body tightened. “Is that why you asked me to ride with you?”

Tor backed off. Iltumar obviously wasn’t going to respond to direct inquiries about whatever was going on, so he would just have to reach out and leave his hand there in the hope that Iltumar would take it.

They rode out of the city through the North Gate and spent a little over three hours just riding through the open prairies around the city. Tor slowly coached the lad into a greater sense of confidence in the saddle, all the while trying to convince him – without saying as much – that, if Iltumar wanted adventure, all he had to do was ask.

When they were done, Tor returned to the Bull and Bear with a very sore – but very happy – Iltumar. He made arrangements, if Iltumar would like, to meet him again in a couple of days.

Once Iltumar had said his farewells, Tor rode Blue back to Shim’s alley.

“You were right,” Shim said. “You were followed.”

“By who?”

“A blond woman dressed in the robes of an Imperial priestess.”

“An Imperial priestess?” Tor frowned. “Where did she go?”

“She followed you to North Gate and then waited in the area until you returned. Then she trailed you back to Delver’s Square. After you left the kid, she hung around outside the Bull and Bear.”

Tor paid Shim and left.

ELESTRA’S MORNING

Elestra decided that she wanted to ask around town about the Brotherhood after all. “I’ll just be careful,” she said to herself.

And she was. Poking her nose into all the right places and asking discreet questions, she learned that an organization calling itself the Brotherhood of Ptolus was quietly recruiting young men and women with idealistic-sounding jingo. She ran into a couple of walls, but eventually made contact with Jamill – a member of the Brotherhood with strange tattoos, numerous scars, long black hair, and the sunken eyes of a shivvel addict.

Elestra voiced interest in joining the Brotherhood, but Jamill wasn’t willing to talk about it until they were in “a more private place”. They agreed to meet at a tavern called the Onyx Spider on Tavern Row at two o’clock.

To kill the time, Elestra grabbed some newssheets and started asking around about recent events in the city. After spending several days in Ghul’s Labyrinth, she was still feeling a little disconnected.

On the 12^th, a man named Doonhin – a salt merchant in the South Market – was accused of killing his wife by throwing her off the Stormwrought Campanile (a freestanding belltower in the Temple District that’s said to be a sanctuary from bad omens, ill luck, storms, and evil magic). Doonhin has been pleading his innocence, claiming to have been magically charmed by a sorcerer.

On the 13^th, there had been another Flayed Man killing. This one had taken place in the Guildsman’s District, suggesting that the killer might be moving out of the Warrens.

And only a few hours earlier, around noon, the Rat’s Nest – a pub on Tavern Row – had been vandalized.

DOMINIC’S MORNING

Dominic spent the morning shopping. He bought Tee a bouquet of flowers and a charming necklace for her birthday, delivering them to her room at the Ghostly Minstrel. The gifts brought a huge smile to Tee’s face, and she thanked him profusely.

Dominic also stopped by Myraeth’s Oddities and bought a scroll describing a magical ritual which could be used to deliver short messages over long distances. He hoped that Ranthir might be able to learn the ritual and improve the group’s ability to communicate during times of separation. After delivering Tee’s birthday presents, he crossed the hall and knocked on Ranthir’s door.

“I have a present for you, Ranthir!”

Ranthir quirked an eyebrow. “You know it’s not my birthday, right?”

NEXT:
Running the Campaign: Background to Foreground – Campaign Journal: Session 26D
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index