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Post by Master on Dec 8, 2014 10:46:22 GMT -8
You enter the glade in search of the children. From a young age, you have always been told to avoid these woods. You search the borders of the forest for signs, hoping Grur was wrong, and the children were running in this direction, and not into the woods. Curiously, you do find some footprints that could belong to the children, but they are too few. Two dozen children running for their lives would leave a sign. Summoning your courage, you move in. In the more dense underbrush you lose the trail, but you continue on following the easiest path presuming that the children were running fast. For hours you search, without profit. Your skills as a woodsman have never been great, but you do get a definite sense that you are moving in circles. You press on, hoping raw determination, luck or the will of the gods will help you. As you move through the woods, with growing frustration, you stumble upon a trio of goblins. For a moment, they don't seem to notice you. You duck behind a tree. Moments pass, and you peek out at the goblins. All three are sitting on the ground, staring a fallen tree. The tree looks unremarkable, but there are some hatchets embedded in the trunk. They are thinking about what they did. The voice seems to be coming from all around you. It is a very pleasant, soothing female voice. You look for the source, and see sitting next to the goblins, a woman. At least, she has a female form. Her skin looks like smooth bark, and her hair a tangle of leaves. Some people never seem to learn their lesson. At times I think about that old adage 'Spare the rod, spoil the child'. But I have never wanted to think about myself as the kind who would do that. I would imagine you are here looking for your children? She doesn't seem to be looking directly at you as she speaks. She glances between the goblins and a few small plants growing nearby. There is a touch of sadness in her voice when she asks the question though. You nod your head slightly. You do not know who, or what, this creature or her intentions are, so you ready yourself for an attack. The woman glances at you, her first acknowledgement of your presence. No need to worry, the children are fine. We were just sitting down to tea. You must join us. She stands and directs you away from the goblins. As you pass by them, one turns and glances at you, but then turns back to fallen tree. I have an unspoken deal with any who pass through here. They may pass through and freely enjoy my glade as they wish, so long as they do not mark, harm, or injure anything within. Those three tried to gather firewood this morning, which is the second time they have broken my rules. So they will have to spend the day contemplating the harm they caused. You walk just behind her as talks. She begins to skip through the underbrush. Out of earshot of the goblins, her tone seems to change from a 'concerned parent' to more lyrical flighty tone. There is a memory charm over these woods. After you leave, the only thing you will remember are the rules. You won't remember me, or those little ones, but you will probably remember finding the children. I think. I didn't put that in. If people break the rules, I have to punish them, which I despise. Its better than the alternative, and with the memory charm the bad only remember that something bad will happen if they return. That is, if they do something really bad. She stops abruptly, turns, moves next to your face staring you in the eye. Then, just as suddenly, returns to her skipping I don't think you will do anything bad.After a few minutes, you both come to a small stream, beside the stream sits a small table with chairs. All of them seem to grown directly out of the ground. The table is set for a tea party. There are three figures sitting at the table, one appears to be a small woman wearing a dress made of leaves, and multicolored diaphanous wings. The other two figures are two of the children from the orphanage. Hmhmf Dmfmvm The children speak through mouthfuls of cake, but you presume it was a greeting.
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Post by Darvan Marnos on Dec 10, 2014 22:01:59 GMT -8
Children, I am so relieved to see you are alright! Darvan looks around hoping to see some sign of the other children. Are the others nearby?
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Post by Master on Dec 11, 2014 13:25:34 GMT -8
You remember these children, a brother and sister. The boy is about 8, the girl 5. The boy swallows a mouthful of cake. Its just us. We got up early and were playing in the garden when the shouting began. The girl, begins to cry. The fairy woman flutters over to comfort her. The boy looks little better, and you suspect he is trying to look brave and tough for your sake. We didn't get a good look at them, but they were banging on the gate, and shouting. The brothers tried to fight when they broke in. We hid in the garden. I wanted to help, but I was scared. They killed the brothers. After that, they brought in a big wagon with a cage on top. They got all the kids out of bed and put them in the cage. A lot were still asleep when they got put in the cage. The bad guys were running around taking things and putting them in bags. Like the dishes, and rings and stuff. Sister was crying, so we ran. We know we aren't supposed to come here, but we were scared.
You do your best to comfort the boy, and let him know he did the right thing. Perhaps cursing Grur in your mind. The fairy and the wooden girl whisper to each other in a language you do not know. After about a minute, the wooden girl takes the children to the stream, and start playing a game of hide and seek. The fairy turns to you. She seems to be the older of the pair, more matronly. Goblins will often attempt to take children, as slaves. The boy describes humans, however. I'm afraid our knowledge of the outside world is not great. Our concern is for the protection of these woods, so if those raiders had tried to pass through, we might have known something about them, alas, they did not. In the short term, the children will be happy and safe here. If you want to go south, find the other children we can watch over them. Meilel may seem young and flighty, but she has a power well beyond her years.
You sit and talk with Celerie, the fairy. After the discussion, both of you think it would be better to take the children to the Sister of Charity cloister, up the road from the main orphanage. Once the children are there, you will go south, and attempt to track the raiders. You remember hearing that reavers from the sea were seen off the coast. Heath is pretty far inland, but the Skruni are known to be slavers, as well as raiders. You also know, that if these were Skruni raiders, their ship would of been seen and it is likely that the towns, villages and castles along the coast would likely have raised a militia by now. Going so far inland and using a wagon to snatch children will be their undoing. You just need to pick up the trail again.
After you leave the children at the Sisters cloister, you head south.
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Post by Master on Jan 1, 2015 10:53:42 GMT -8
You spend days walking, wandering, toward the South. You have no trail to follow. Your only real hope, is to find a trail of pillage, other victims or a clandestine campsite that might indicate they came this way. As you get further south, people you encounter seem to be more and more on edge. This time of year is usually the height of the season for coastal reaving. The strength of the seaborn raiders isn't great. Centuries of raids have tempered the coastal communities and watchtowers along the coast usually provide ample warning of incoming raiders. Most raids are ended before any serious harm is done, rarely getting more than a few miles inland before the raiders are cornered, fought and killed. Knowing this, you find it very odd that your raiders got so far inland. It is unlikely for such raiders to survive the journey, even more unlikely that they could do it unseen. After nearly a week of travel. You make a very startling, and baffling discovery. You presume that reavers attempting to pass unnoticed would not use the roads, you likewise cut across country, hoping to find some sign. While traveling you see happen upon a well travelled north-south road. In a ditch beside the road you find a man, dead. He is human, definitely not from Ewina. Judging by the remnants of his clothing, you think he was probably Skrunik, from the Reaver Islands. He was probably dead a few days. His throat is cut, but both of his arms appear to have been roughly broken as well. The most curious part of the tableau would be the chicken clutched in his arms. The body was dumped here, but before it was dumped a chicken, perhaps freshly killed was placed in the dead man's hands, and sewn in place. Left for eternity clutching a dead chicken. Your own knowledge of Skrunik culture is virtually non-existent. It seems fruitless to you to ponder the meaning of this grisly scene, the important thing to take away, is that at least one Skrunik came through here, probably more. The corpse was probably left almost naked because his companions stripped him of anything he had of value, weapons armor, warm clothes and the like. You aren't sure how long you spend looking at the corpse and his chicken, probably no more than 10 minutes. As you turn to continue your journey south you are startled by a shout behind you. Coming down the road from the north is a party of four, all mounted. At first you think it is a group of knights far down the road. They have banners and their leader looks to be wearing a suit of armor. You blink, and realize that the riders are not human, but halfling. Their mounts seem to be large dogs. The leader, astride a large husky, seems was the one who called out to you. As they get closer, you see and recognize their banners as the sigil of the Long Patrol. You know little of the history their history, but you know that the Long Patrol is an ancient organization of Halfling adventurers. Their chief duty is to protect halfling communities, patrolling over vast distances as halfling communities are spread throughout the known world. While their main focus is on protecting halflings, they never avoid helping others, particularly other travellers along the roads of the world. Members of the Long Patrol were a common sight at the Heath Monastery, passing through on their travels or occasionally dropping off found children in need of help. By and large, you know the Long Patrol to be honorable, stories of misconduct or maleficence are quite rare, and trouble makers are severely punished. As the riders come up to you. Their leader hops off his mount. He pulls a long pipe from his pack and lights it. He smiles at you as he puffs. With a quick bow he introduces himself. Captain Ames Redpebble. Long Patrol, South Ewina patrol. He takes a long puff on his pipe, and leans over the ditch, clearly looking at the body. What's all this, then?
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Post by Master on Jan 15, 2015 17:55:33 GMT -8
Fearing the question is an accusation. You try to quickly defend yourself, what comes out is a stream of stammering nonsense. The halfling continues to puff on his pipe, staring at you. You continue to stammer out a declaration of innocence. Captain Redpebble seems utterly unconvinced. You are sure that he intends to arrest you for murder, until you see a smile break across his face.
Ha Ha. No need for any of that. We have been trailing this fellow and his company for days now. Judging by the state of your clothes, and the signs left over there, He indicates the small hedge you came through on your path to the road. I would say you came from that direction, and only happened upon this grisly scene by coincidence. You nod, somewhat impressed by his skills in deduction, but not so impressed as the captain is in himself, if the contented look on his face is any indication. My company have been tracking a group of Skrunik raiders for several days now. I believe this fellow was on of their number. The first to be excised from the party, but not the last I would wager. You see chicken sewn to his hands? It is meant to mark him as a theif. A common punishment for thieves in the Reaver Isles. Take the theif, and sew his ill gotten goods to his hands. Everyone can see what he did, and he is left with the mark for life, or until he cuts it off. It is curious though, isn't it? Why raiders, who only come to our shores to kill and steal, would punish a man for stealing?
You point out Perhaps he stole from his companions. That chicken might have been spoils belonging to the group. The captain puffs. An interesting hypothesis. But incorrect. You see....wait, forgive me for getting caught up. Who are you, and what are you doing on the road? You have the look of someone who can take care of himself, but surely you know that the warning flags are raised along the coast.
You explain to the captain who you are, a brother from the Heath Monastery, and you tell him about the attack. He seems most interested in the attack, in particular the wagon you describe. The other riders listen attentively as well, nodding to one another. One even pulls out a scroll, and writes down a few notes as you speak. You finish your story, and all eyes turn toward Captain Redpebble. He seems deep in thought, absently puffing on his pipe.
Hmmm. Well, it would seem, that we have all been working the same case, but from different angles. Under normal circumstances, this would be cause for joy. As I said, we have been tracking this group of raiders for days. We were investigating a few minor thefts from small farmsteads and villages. The pattern lead north, away from the main roads, and away from any patrol routes by local militias or the Long Patrol. Nobody paid any attention to the thefts, they were small things, a bag of apples, or small keg of ale, few loaves of bread. There are raiders about, so all eyes are on the lookout for big raiding parties, not a couple of petty thieves. I, and my team, thought differently. I surmised that the thefts were meant to supply a raiding party, which would allow them to move quickly, but the thefts were meant to be small enough to escape notice. We surmised, this raiding party was after bigger, perhaps less protected targets further inland. It seems we were right, but taking children? Why? Hmmmm.
What about this guy, how does he fit in?
Well, since they left Heath, these raiders have kept an even lower profile. No thefts, of any kind. For days they have been marching, lugging a wagon, with whatever food they might have taken from your monastery. Yesterday, we got a report, that a farmer had been killed, and all the chickens in his coop were taken. My guess, is that this guy killed the farmer and stole his chickens and his boss killed him for breaking the rules. I figured whoever killed the farmer, was part of the raiding party we were chasing. You showing up here can't be a coincidence. This guy hasn't been dead long, so we better mount up, and ride out. At that, all the halflings run to their mounts, and get ready to ride out. You would be a welcome addition, unfortunately, we cannot slow down for you, and none of our mounts can bear a big guy like you.
You are right, do not slow down for me, but I am faster than I look.
If you can keep up with us, there is a town about 4 hours ride south along this road. If you can get a horse there, you are welcome to ride with us.
Your group moves swiftly down the road. You struggle to keep up with the Captain and his riders, but your excellent condition and sheer determination win out. Upon reaching the next town, you find the Long Patrol waystation, where you are lent a horse, and with minimal delay, your hunt continues.
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Post by Master on Jan 18, 2015 10:11:01 GMT -8
You ride with the halflings into the night, resting only a few hours to feed the horse and dogs and give them a chance to rest. You try to pull some of your food from your pack. Captain Redpebble and the others stop you, offering you some of their rations. They are quite insistent, and you know know from past experience with halflings that it is considered terrible breach of etiquette for a halfling to not feed a guest. You presume that etiquette to be the cause of their objection, you graciously accept their rations. You are amazed by quality of it. A small piece of hard bread, a slip of dried meat, and few dried berries, the same basic components of your own rations, but after eating them, you feel as though you just had a full meal, if not more than one. Furthermore, standard rations are completely devoid of taste, save extreme saltiness, but these are sweet and delicious. In addition to the rations, the halflings pass around a full waterskin that, when it comes to you, you realize is full of a stout and hearty ale. While resting, and enjoying the first taste of food in weeks, two of the company begin to sing a traditional halfling hunting song. You are impressed by their harmony.
After the meal is finished, Captain Redpebble reclines on a rock. Beside him, curled up asleep, is his dog/mount. He pulls out his pipe and lights it. After his first puff, he reaches into his pack and draws out a second one, offering it to you. You thank him. You also ask how they come by such filling and delicious field rations.
Standard issue for squads on active patrol. During the Long walk, my people spent centuries trying to make good food that would keep on long journeys. Now we are settled, we have farms and villages and grow whatever food we wish, that which we cannot grow we can trade for. Those old recipes however remain. A Halfling can forget a great many things, and does, but a good recipe is more memorable than a mother's name. In truth, though, this batch seems a bit bland to me, been a while since we got some rations that really hit the spot. I imagine though it is far better than anything you found in a human village. How humans grew so big and strong, how they built empires, without the benefit of a decent meal, has always been a mystery to me. I suppose it is something for me to ruminate on during my twilight years.
You aren't sure how long the captain stayed up puffing on his pipe, as you fell asleep as soon as your head hit your bedroll. When you awoke, the sun had not yet risen. The halflings were just waking up, and the captain was saddling the dogs. Within a few minutes, the chase was on again. You ride all day, save for another meal about midday. While the signs were not apparent to you, one of the captain's men seems to be an accomplished tracker, and is confident that you are not only on the right trail, but that you are gaining on the raiders. You spend another night on the side of the road, another meal and another song. You wake early in the morning, and hit road, riding a bit harder and faster today.
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Post by Master on Jan 20, 2015 17:55:48 GMT -8
The next is eventful. Before noon, you catch up with the raiders. You are still amazed by the tracking skills of the halflings. Following an invisible (to you) trail, they were able to trace their movements, and even tell how far away the raiders were. Captain Redpebble decided to shadow the raiders for a while, before charging. He said he didn't like surprises, and so long as they kept enough distance, the quarry wouldn't notice. The raiders seemed to be on alert when they were marching, but whenever they took a rest, what little discipline the troop had melted away. They would eat, drink, laugh and prank each other. Staying a few hundred feet back, you could hear their laughter. Such mirth seemed like daggers to you. That such cruel and inhuman people could find joy after sowing such misery, was disturbing. Looking at your halfling companions, you are certain that you are not alone. The enemy never seemed to rest for long, no more than 5 to 10 minutes. Not enough time to sneak up and attack. There were perhaps a dozen raiders, men and women, all Skrunik Human. Captain Redpebble looks confident of victory. He warns you that the even with surprise, the fight will be difficult, that his riders are well trained and armed and none would think less of you if you wanted to sit out the battle. You refuse, Redpebble acquiesces. You think he knew you would want to join the fight, but needed to give you a token warning.
About midday, the Skrunik stop, this time for a full meal. Captain Redpebble gives the word. The halflings mount up, but you hobble your horse, and move in on foot. At full speed, you are nearly as the halfling dogs, and you are certainly more comfortable fighting on foot. The battle is opened by a volley of sling stones, the raiders dive for cover first, then weapons. Charging in from 5 different directions, you are able to keep the raiders from drawing into a formation, as impetuous Skrunik try to run toward the riders. The halflings bury lances into the chests of the attackers. The Skrunik to brace for a charge, but at the last moment, a command from Redpebble sends the riders away from the Skrunik. In response, the raiders charge their 'fleeing' enemy. Another shout from the captain, and the riders turn again, and charge. After the second charge, you find yourself in heavy combat, unable to watch Redpebble and his riders in action. For a moment, it looked like a bloody ballet. Halfling and dog dancing with the mass of Skrunik. Your fight however, was less elegant, and less graceful. The Skrunik are savage warriors, they tend to press their attacks, hoping to force their opponents into a defensive stance then bash through. Your own considerable fighting skills seemed well suited to the task. Your deftly turn your opponent's savage blows, countering with quick jabs. Your style enrages them, which only opens up more opportunities for your counter attacks. In the end, the day is yours. A few raiders attempted to run, but found it impossible to get away from a charging riding dog. Redpebble and his riders are whole, a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing serious.
The Skrunik are dead, dying or unconcious, except for two. You see Redpebble calmly puffing on his pipe, talking to them. You pay them no mind, and head directly for the large, covered wagon in the middle of the Skrunik camp. You pull open the flap and jump inside, but find nobody. There are sacks of wool, some grain, a few chickens, and a tapped barrel of ale. You start moving sacks around, hoping to find some clue regarding the children. Tossing aside a bag of grain, you do find a fairly large sack of gold and platinum. You take the sack of coins, which ways nearly 30 pounds, to Redpebble.
What have we got here? Redpebble asks as he kicks the sack over, spilling coins over the torn and bloody ground. The Skrunik spit curses at him. Your knowledge of the Skrunik language is not great, but their demeanor is clear. Well then, if you don't wanna tell me what it is. I do believe we will just take it, and be on our way. Seems like an awful lot of money. Bet I could get a team of the best whores in the world to polish my......armor with that. He very slowly picks up a few coins and puts that in the spilled sack. With each coin, his smile grows bigger, but the Skrunik seem more and more agitated. He picks up one platinum piece, it seems to have fallen in a small pool of blood. Too bad, this one seems to be ruined. I could probably just clean it off, but that seems like a lot of work this stuff is so foul and disgusting it takes forever to wash it off, and I have so many other shiney coins, I can't imagine I would miss this one. He then absently tosses the coin over his shoulder and continues to pick up coins.
The Skrunik look like they are about to explode, but one stands up and shouts. NO! That is belongs to us. We traded for it, all legitimate. The other stuff in the wagon, we took that stuff, but the gold is ours. Your quickly sweep out his leg, dropping right back to the ground.
Well it is quite a shame. You come all this way engage in 'legitimate' trade, and then I come along and take all your profits. I may be mistaken, but I am fairly sure that by Skrunik tradition, the gold, the wagon, the grain, even your miserable little lives now belong to me. Since you came to my home, unwelcome, and so happily violate my laws in the name of your own traditions, I really have no option but to abide by those traditions. Wonder how much we could get selling two Skrunik warriors? They are slightly damaged, so there is no way I can get full price.
The raider stares at you, and half growls to Redpebble Maybe we could make a deal?
Redpebble feigns surprise A deal? Not sure it is traditional among your people for the victor to deal with the defeated. However, you can thank the gods, that I am not one of your people. For that matter, I thank the gods every day I am not one of you people. You want to deal, we can deal. First, you will tell me everything you did during this little trip of yours. You will answer any questions we have. If you lie, or I think your lying, I go find a magistrate and tell him you are raiders, he will hang you, and I will go buy an ocean of ale with YOUR money. Second, you and your buddy swear oaths to never return to these shores. Third, my friend seems to have a pretty nasty gash on his arm, you will apologize for that. In return, you don't swing from a gibbet over the harbor, and since I am feeling particularly generous, I will even let you keep your share of this gold, one twelfth each. Redpebble puffs away on his pipe. He turns away from the Skrunik and appears to survey the area, making it appear that he doesn't really care how the raiders answer his question. After a few moments, one of Redpebbles riders walks behind the raiders with a coil of rope, and starts to tie up the raider. It breaks the silence.
Fuck! FINE! Deal.
Captain Redpebble turns back to the raiders, A good choice, see how much better Halfling Traditions are compared to Skrunik. First things first. Redpebble has maintained a very cheerful, almost aloof tone and demeanor throughout the interrogation, but now his mood has turned dark, his eyes are steel, and he draws a dagger from his belt holding it firmly with the blade pointed at the raiders. What did you do with the children?
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Post by Master on Jan 22, 2015 11:53:57 GMT -8
The two raiders look at each other, afraid. At first they seem unwilling, or unable to answer the question. Perhaps it was the threat of violence, or the hope for the gold, that started the raiders talking.
The little ones are gone. The Wizard took them, traded us for them.
What Wizard? You have a name? Where did this wizard take the children?
We don't have a name. After he gave us the gold, he made the children disappear, then he disappeared. He never told us his name, he just said we should call him 'my lord'.
We landed a few weeks ago, looking for gold or good food, whatever we could get our hands on. On the beach, we were approached by a highborn, at least he looked highborn, fancy clothes, jewelry, clean face and he talked like he thought he was better than us. We thought we could rob him, toss his body into the waves, let the fish have at him, but said he had an offer. Said if we traded something to him, he would give us more gold than we could get in ten raids. We agreed. He gave us the wagon and a map that showed where we were to go. He told us we couldn't raid or kill anyone until we had finished his task. He said he needed something pretty far inland, and if we took too much or killed anyone we would attract too much attention and the local sheriffs and lords would send knights to hunt us down. He glances angrily at the halflings. He said he wanted 20 children, and he would give us 100 gold for each one. We went where he said, killed all the adults, and took all the children we could find. He wanted 20, we took him 22. After we were supposed to meet him at an old watchtower, many miles away from here.
Redpebble pulls a map from his pack. Show me, where did you meet him?The raiders look somewhat confused by the map. Obviously they weren't the map readers in the group. Finally, one points to a clearing, a few miles off the main road.
Thats where he took the children, and gave us the money. You won't find him there, he used magic to disappear, him and the children.
Describe this highborn lord. What did he look like, what was he wearing, did he have any badge or sigil? So far all you have given me is bad news, for your sake, you better give me something I can use.
He was tall. He had long hair, tied back. His skin was pale, like he spent all his time in a castle with a soft bed. He was young, maybe mid twenties. He was wearing some brown traveling clothes, he didn't have any armor or weapons, and I didn't see any kind of badge, but we don't look for those things in the Isles. ummmmm his teeth! He had really sharp teeth, he tried to hide them, didn't open his mouth a lot when he talked, but when we gave him the children, he smiled, and I could see them. I thought it was odd, but it didn't seem like it mattered. However his teeth looked, his gold still glittered and thats what mattered to us.
Redpebble continues to question the raiders, about where they went, what they did, who they may have robbed, and where other raiding parties might be. You pay little attention. The description of the wizard isn't terribly helpful. The raider's description could apply to most of the highborn lords you have seen, except for the teeth. Then again, how will strange teeth help you find the children. While Redpebble continues his questioning, you help his riders strip the bodies of the dead raiders, pile the bodies, and build a large bonfire. Whatever valuables they had are loaded into the cart. One of the rider's explains that it is the custom of the Long Patrol to sell the goods of bandits, and divide the gold among their victims. They aren't sure what will be done with the gold, Redpebble will likely make good on the deal and give the raiders a share, but he will probably have to ask his superiors about the rest.
After he is done questioning the raiders, Redpebble has them bound and gagged. He turns to you I am sorry about the children. Its fucked up. I have no idea who this lord is they described. He isn't from Ewina. If a lord from Ewina was seen dealing with Skrunik raiders, especially ones that killed Brothers of Charity, he wouldn't be a lord for long. Could be some rogue wizard with delusions of being highborn, or willing to lie to cover his tracks. I am willing believe what they said about him being a wizard. The Skrunik don't have mages themselves, but most have seen enough magic to know it when they see it. Highborn or not, this guy is a rogue mage, which means we will need to inform the Oprichnina. They are better equipped to find and fight someone like him. We will take these thugs back to their ship, then I will meet with the sector captain Oprichnik. It doesn't seem like there is much more we can do for the children.
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Post by Master on Jan 24, 2015 20:51:33 GMT -8
At first, you refuse accept Redpebble's conclusion. There must be more you can do to find the children. You part company with the riders, with some sadness but still friendly. First, you find the old watchtower the raider mentioned. You scour the grounds looking for clues. You find little. Footprints, wagon treads, remnants of a campfire, but nothing to prove who was here. You spend the next few days traveling the countryside, asking anyone you find if they know who would fit the description you have. You find no luck. Disheartened, you decide to return home. On your trip home, it rains every day. Part of you wants to think that the heavens are weeping for you, another part reminds you that it always rains in Autumn in Ewina.
You pass by the Monastery, the gates have been hastily repaired, but it remains unoccupied. There is a sign on the gate, instructing pilgrims and travellers of what happened, and directing them to the Sister's Cloister up the road. You continue on the road, to the Sister's Cloister. When you arrive, the Abbess greets you, offering you a warm meal by the fire. She greets you with a smile, but you know that behind that smile are tears. You relate to her your story.
A sad tale to be sure. We could have used some good news. Before you left, we sent word to Father Abbot in Sofiholm. It seems that while in Sofiholm, the Abbot was giving out some of our blankets in the poor slums of the city. There has been a sickness in those slums for a few months now. Abbot felt that the sick would need our blankets more than most. The sickness has been intermittent, and the Abbot felt the risk was small. Sadly, he was mistaken, and we got word that he has fallen ill. The plague does not seem to spread rapidly, but it is almost always lethal. The head of our order is looking after the abbot himself, but he does not think the Abbot will survive. If he does not survive, the High Priest will choose a successor. In the meantime, I will shepherd our sisters, and oversee rebuilding the main house. Unfortunately, without the main house, we cannot keep the orphanage open. We have only two children anyway, and they are not enough to sustain a whole orphanage, even if we had the room to board them. So I will be sending the children to the Brothers of Raybluff, in Forlinde. It is far from ideal, but I see no other option. There are other children there, so ours will be happier there, in the long term.
Over the next few days, you stay with the Sisters in their cloister. It is a violation of the rules, but it is forgiven under the circumstances. The sisters and the children are afraid of more raiders, and having you there makes them feel safer. You do what you can to help. The sisters are stretched thin, between their usual duties as well as trying to maintain the flocks of sheep that have always supported the Heath Monastery. Word soon reaches you that the Abbot has died from the plague in Sofiholm. At the same time, the High Priest has appointed the Abbess of the Sisters as the new head of the Monastery. The High Priest also pledged to send volunteers to help form a new core to rebuild the Brothers. Weeks pass by, and more and more monks trickle in. They take up residence in the main house of the monastery, and work day and night to rebuild it. As more hands join the Monastery, you start to feel more hope for the future of your home. You become more assured that the Heath Monastery will not fall into nothing.
About three months after the massacre, you approach the Mother Abbess. You ask her to release you from service to the monastery, and allow you to become a Wandering Brother. You would still belong to the Brothers and Sisters of Charity, but you would not be tied to any one monastery. You would wander the land, helping those in need, giving aid and comfort to others on the road. She is not happy at the prospect of losing you, but she knows that you can do a lot of good out in the wide world. She releases you. After a tearful goodbye with your sisters and new brothers, you set out on the road.
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Post by Master on Jan 26, 2015 11:48:43 GMT -8
You spend the next year of your life, walking the roads of Alainta. From the coasts of Ewina, to the border forts of Ishmeara, and south across Alitaan to the land's end and the Mariun Lighthouse. You visit every church and chapterhouse of the Brothers and Sisters of Charity along the way. You help those in need, protect the weak, and abide by the dictates of your order as best you can while on the road. To support yourself, you perform odd jobs along the way. Mending fences for ranchers, protecting trade caravans from bandits, for a few weeks you worked as a farmhand helping to gather in a harvest. The beauty of the open road is appealing, meeting and helping new people is also very rewarding. There is little purpose or aim in where you choose to go. For now, you are content wandering the lands of Humans and Halflings, perhaps someday you will travel beyond those borders. You have heard that the Dwarves have built massive, six cart wide, highways connecting their underground realms. Perhaps even taking a ship across the sea to Cathay and beyond, someday. You are nearing the the city of Cold Lake when you find that your purse may be too light to continue. It would seem you may need to settle for a time until you can make enough money to move on. As you approach the city, you are greeted by what looks like a growing shanty town. Men, roughneck angry looking men, seem to be pitching tents along the road leading into town. This is not the first time you have visited Cold Lake, and these vagrants have were not here before. The closer you get to the city, the tent villages become more numerous. You try asking some of the tent dwellers why they are here, are they refugees, pilgrims or an army of some kind? You get no real answers, just profane suggestions of what you can do with yourself, and your mother. You make your way to an inn, where you have better luck deciphering the meaning of the tent cities. A barmaid informs you that fighters and sellswords from all over come to town to try out for the city's mercenary company. They pay better than anyone else, and they only take the best, so every few years they sign people up, and have them compete outside of town to pick the best fighters and mages. With so many Wannabes coming to town, and with nothing to do, they tend to get drunk, fight, and generally wreck up the town. Most of the people who come just come for the party. It gets pretty wild. Big guy like you, surprised you aren't here to try out yourself.You tell her that you are just passing through town, maybe looking for some pocket money to get you to the next town. Sorry, can't help you there. Come back in two weeks, we always hire on laborers to fix up what the Wannabes break. Since you are not a Wannabe, you may be able to get a real room, not have to pitch a tent or sleep in a ditch. A lot of places won't rent to Wannabes, because of the damage they can do. You thank her for the offer, but if you there won't be any honest work in town for weeks, you really should be moving on for now. You leave the pub and walk out into the street. A few yards up the street you see a cart loaded with barrels with a young man driving. You notice that the driver, no more than 15, is arguing with a trio of fairly well armed men. They are not guards, as the city guards in all of Cold Lake wear identical uniforms and perfectly maintained armor, these men are wearing dirty and mismatched armor pieces. Your days on the road have taught you how to spot a shakedown when you see it. You look up and down the street for a guard, but find none. There is a woman in a doorway, wearing a long black duster. You walk by her, toward the stopped cart, and tell her you think the kid is getting robbed, that you plan to intervene, and if she can fetch the town watch before anyone gets seriously hurt. She smirks at you, but doesn't move. You ignore her, and move toward the cart. By the time you get there, one of the trio is on the cart, the driver tries to push him off, with no effect. The roughnecks, Wannabes you imagine, laugh at his feeble attempt. Hehe. A valiant lad, perhaps the next Grunyar Orchewer, in a few years when he puts some muscle on his spindly bones.There are many pubs and alehouses in this neighborhood, why try to rob a young boy? You shout to them. More importantly, why do it in front of witnesses when the city guard is already on its way?I would be afraid, if the city guard gave two shits about this part of town, or if they were coming. Now get out of here if you know whats good for you. He turns to the boy, and with minimal effort, shoves him off the cart. You step forward, the two on the ground draw weapons, and point them at you. You continue to move toward them, and they strike. The battle is difficult, despite their appearance, these men are well trained, perhaps former soldiers. You do your best to engage all three, holding them off preventing them from landing adequate blows, buying time for someone to get the city guard. Your tactic is complicated by the driver. Rather than running to get help, he grabs a dagger from the seat of the cart, and tries to help you fight. While trying to keep the Wannabes from hitting the boy, you take several shots from a hammer, and find a dagger stabbed into your leg. It soon become obvious, that you cannot win this fight. Another slash from a sword across the back of your leg drops you to your knees. You look up to see a warhammer coming down, but the hammer never falls, instead there is a spray of blood across your face. The hammer's owner falls to the ground, his throat slashed open. The other two quickly try to back away. No, stay a while. You hear a woman's voice, but you cannot see well, sweat and blood sting in your eyes. You there, boy. You are getting robbed, I have intervened, please go fetch the City Guard before anyone else gets hurt. While you cannot make her out, you are certain now that the voice belongs to the woman in the black duster. You struggle to wipe clean your eyes, but you hear the sound of the driver running away frantically. That was an impressive showing. I have known Brothers of Charity who can fight, but few who could have done as well against such odds. She bends to help you up. Despite her thin frame, you can feel a surprising strength in her arms. She puts you down, sitting against the wall of a building. She then hands you a small vial with a shining liquid inside. This should make the pain more tolerable. She then turns to the remaining Wannabes I would advise the two of you to drop those weapons before the guards arrive. They comply, no doubt still awed by the speed in which this woman dispatched their comrade. With the immediate threat gone, the woman wipes off her longsword, and sheaths it. She opens her coat to gain access to her sheath, when she does so, you notice that she is wearing chainmail, dyed black, under the duster. When the guards arrive, the woman in black talks to them. A few words and a handshake are all that pass and the Wannabes are arrested, and the dead man is loaded on a cart and taken away. You are surprised that the guards did not want to talk to you at all. She then tells the boy to be on his way, and that a dagger is not adequate protection during tryout season. Tell your father that I said he should either hire a someone to watch the cart, or hold off on deliveries until the Wannabes leave. A few casks of ale are not worth his son's life. The boy nods, and moves quickly to get his cart away. She then turns back to you. I would have let them rough the boy up and take the ale, myself. It would have been a good lesson for the boy and his cheap father. Then again, I am not a Brother of Charity. As soon as I saw you walk out of that pub I knew what was gonna happen. There is a temple of Charity over in Frostglen, I can get the guards to let you pass, if you are up to walking. You nod Glad to hear it. Captain Olenna Tane, Oprichnina.After drinking the vial she gave you, you feel your wounds heal somewhat. You are still in pain, but it is manageable and you can walk without assistance. While walking toward the temple, you and Captain Tane talk become more acquainted. She is in command of the troop of Oprichniki in this area. She is well known in town and respected in town. After you describe yourself, and your desire for work to continue your travels, she informs you that she may have a job for you. Ordinarily, I would just hire rejected Wannabes, but I doubt any of them would have your heart and skill in such equal measure. By now you have arrived at the temple, and one of the acolytes there is tending to your wounds. You ask Captain Tane about the job, but before she can answer, another man runs into the room. He is dressed in a similar black garb as the captain, and he refers to her as 'sir', obviously he is one of her troopers. They speak quietly, and you cannot overhear what he tells her, not that you try very hard. Shit. I am sorry brother Darvan, but I am needed back in my office. She scribbles on a piece of paper and hands it to you. I still want you to work for me, give this to the keeper of that inn I saw you come out of. He will give you food and a room. In three days about midday, meet me at my office. That building I was standing by when we met. Before you can say anything, she is out of the room. You take the captain up on her offer, and stay at the inn. Over the next three days you watch as the city fills with more and more Wannabes. As more and more people fill the city, the party seems to grow. You are told that the first wave of Wannabes are usually the most serious about joining the Cold Lake Company, and are more likely to cause trouble. People who come later are less serious, they still wanna join, but they are realistic about their chances and most take the party as consolation. The last people to arrive are generally the ones who come for the party. By the day of your meeting, the party has taken over most of this quarter of the city. The revelers are still barred from most of the city, so thousands have crowded into your neighborhood, in an orgy of drunkenness and debauchery. Such a sight you have never seen before. Around midday, the party is at low ebb, most are too drunk and tired to partake, but there are diehards still roaming the streets. You cross the street to Captain Tane's office. Within you find three others waiting to meet with the captain. An Elf man, a bit grey at the temples, and two human women. This is the end of the prologue. The main story will start with the meeting with Captain Tane. If you have any other questions or comments feel free to post them.
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