Write up follows:
We find ourselves going back 5 days in time, at the moment when the two groups diverged, half heading to Bork Keep, and the other still at Erylond and looking to get some work done for the Adventurer’s Guild.
It was Spirit Month the 4th around 9:30 when the party was ready to leave our room at the Flying Pegasus Inn and head off to the Greater Rand Sellsword and Adventurer’s Guild. We had a meeting with Pha-iyr Carom, the Guild’s facilitator who was going to give us a job to perform this early in our charter. It would give us some coin and allow us to show the Guild that we were happy to be promising members and able to help out.
Thalin, Merica, Barb, Dizzy, Hjalgrim, Percy, and Shimlagesh finished their breakfast and then made their way to their meeting. We arrived in a timely manner and two of the Guild’s Enforcers, a pair of Half-Ogre toughs, met us in the foyer and had a brief conversation with us. We divested ourselves of our weapons, chatted with them briefly, and then made our way to the lower library where Pha-iyr Carom was waiting for us along with another person.
An adult male Grey Elf was waiting there along with the Half-elven facilitator. Having that etheric thinness that many Grey Elves develop, the figure was wearing a set of Sorcerer Robes from the Arcane Academy and both him and Thalin expressed enthusiasm as seeing one another.
He was Paris, a nobleman elf from Tiloni, a major city on the northern portion of Rand, and at one point had been on of Thalin’s mentor’s during his time at the mage’s guild there before he decided there was more of an opportunity in potentially striking out on his own and joining up with other like-minded people in mercenary work.
Paris, along with other members of the Academy, had been getting Thalin’s missives for the last 2 years or so, about 1 a month, and following his trials and tribulations during that time. But, it was the seemingly increase in power and influence the one time apprentice had been amassing that was a source of conversation, and indeed envy for those who were still part of Tower life. How can a person in two years equal the skills, experience, and capabilities that a tower worked individual might have spent 2 or 3 decades achieving?
Paris had presented his arguments to the Tower council, including his own family who were on the board, and was told that he should not worry about such things and spend his decades with care building his path one small step at a time. This rankled the normally well balanced sorcerer who after 40 years of indoctrination, realized that perhaps Tower life was not the answer to the way of things. He was instead looking to show his skills and capabilities were beyond that of a neophyte magic user and was hoping to establish himself as a valid enchanter even with a Testing.
Most magics were beyond his skill so he took to performing longer rituals, powered by the blood and mana. Since he was lower level, he used blank requisition documents and presented them to the Local Magistrate for prisoners who were to be executed that day and used their dying to power some of the spells that were normally outside his purview. It did not go well – in fact it went poorly both times he attempted it.
Eventually he was called to Council where harsh words were bandied about and he left in anger and some disgrace. Already knowing where Thalin was and his own successes, he partook of the next caravan heading across the Randari plains in effort to arrive in Erylond and hopefully learn how Thalin was able to amass his skills and power in the face of the Tower’s teachings and learnings. And if possible, join the adventuring guild and the local Mage’s Guild.
Pha-iyr Carom had numerous documents supporting Paris’ skills and abilities, and was willing to have him meet the group – but his time with the group would be limited to his ability to learn to control his baser instincts and how to temper his time and maturity into working with the body as a whole. If his time with the party on this small mission went well, Pha-iyr Carom would green light his admission to the Guild and would pass on the approval to the Arcane Academy here to have his standing and rank transferred from Tiloni to Erylond. If he did NOT do well, then…it would suck to be him very quickly.
We talked for a bit and then came to what Pha-iyr Carom and the GRSAG wanted for us. We were to go to Canaslan, one of the Sovereign Kingdoms (actually the 2nd one) and meet with the King, Seljack of Madar in the capital city of Paxian. The story was that King Seljack had commissioned the GRSAG about 4 months ago for some Steel Wool (metallic wool found on subterranean sheep in the Terror Dungeon) from sanctioned adventurers – delivered after 3 months of gathering to Canaslan. He supplied 24 large wooden crates for the GRSAG to fill with the understanding that all crates, empty or full, were to be returned after 3 months.
A fire in the warehouse caused by an errant former member of the guild fireballing the area, resulted in 19 of the 24 crated being destroyed. So upon the completion of the contract, the GRSAG delivered 5 crates and three large bags of Steel Wool. Since then, there have been a month and a half of increasingly angry letters back and forth with King Seljack getting angrier and more belligerent each time. According to the letter of the Writ and the Esquire’s opinion – the Guild IS responsible for the crates. So, Pha-iyr is sending the party to Canaslan to meet with King Seljack and give him the letter of credit drawn against the Duke of Erylond’s own coffers for the full market value (and then some) for the 19 crates: 85 nobles per crate, for a total of 1,615 nobles.
There is no negotiating, the Letter is what it is – it’s the group’s job to make this offer and make it palatable. His signature needs to appear on each Letter and a copy of the Letter comes back here and the GRSAG will present it to the Duke at that time allowing the money to be withdrawn. We’re getting 3 crowns each for the job and the GRSAG will cover our room, meals, and lodging for 2 days.
While the paperwork is being drawn up we are told that Shandrilar, Wizard-Lord of the Tower of Winds, would like the group to pick up some material she had ordered from Paxian and Canaslan and is now ready – and we split up – Hjalgrim, Percy, Dizzy, and Barb head off to the Stinky Cat Inn (on Pha-iyr’s hint dropping to Dizzy of a potential avenue to meet with the local Thieves’ Guild) while Merica, Thalin, Shim, and Paris head off to the Magic User’s District to visit the Wizard-Lord in question.
Once inside we find a dampening field that retards the magic a bit and then are led to meet with the Wizard-Lord in her dining area. She’s human, appearing to be in her 30’s, and is tall, almost 6’ and aloof. Her mannerisms seem aloof and after introductions are made she gives us her job. She requested a quart of Crested Dracomen from a gnomish “acquirer” named Thimbles, found in the Black District of Paxian. This type of blood takes some time to gather and once done, is potent for a few weeks before begins to spoil and she was just informed it was ready. She wants us to get it and bring it back. It’s already been paid for so all we need to do is just pick up the material and return without issue.
Sadly Paris had an abrupt way of speaking to the Wizard-Lord who vented her anger on the novice sorcerer who collapsed down screaming, his clothes whipping off his shoulders and lines and welts appearing on his skin. It lasted some 15 seconds where he then arose shaking and much cowed, convinced he had been tossed into Tartarus. She then repeated her requested and Paris answered much more contrite and willing to listen.
We took the job, she gave us 15 crowns (oh my god, she had NO idea what the job would actually be worth to do, overpaying the party who took the mission without saying a word) and we left going to meet the group back again at the Stinky Cat.
Meanwhile the other half of the group made their way further along the main thoroughfare, coming to the Stinky Cat Inn, a massive 3 story structure with its own stables and small smith house. The plethora of feral and semi-tamed cats littering the outside of the establishment gave credence to the place’s name. There was a large U shaped central bar, a decent sized minstrel stage on the right hand side, and a double wide set of stairs going up to the 2nd and third floor where and overhang balcony looked down to the main Common Room, large enough to seat 4 to 500 easily. Before entering, Dizzy did spot on the lintel of the main entrance and Guild Marking identifying the place as an Elysium: a safe place for all members to come and meet as well as a place where no crimes were to take place.
At the main bar Hjalgrim and Percy took center place attracting the tender over with long sweeps of his arms and a booming voice. Dizzy and Barb took a place furthest away along the left side at the end of the “U” where a tired wench in her 40’s took our order and Dizzy Canted to her a desire to “meet”. She didn’t reply but returned 2 beers to the pair of them and Dizzy was instructed to “drink up and quickly”.
At the bottom of his mug was a scratched message in CANT to “Sit at 3rd booth”. And to the area behind them were a series of booths privacy walled and poorly lit. Dizzy waved to Barb and left her at the bar before taking a seat at the booth in question with his beer. The Half-orc was enticed to join Hjalgrim at the bar leaving Dizzy on his own.
He sat for some time, watching the bar and seeing who might be the person in the Common Room he would peg as a contact for the Guild. Imagine his surprise when a portly, on the edge of obese, sweating man of late 30’s came from out of his blind spot and asked to sit with Dizzy “Just to rest a second”. He made lots of blowing noises and seemed to mop his forehead a bit before getting some information from Dizzy and Dizzy getting some from him. His name was Caetius and he asked Dizzy if he’s be willing to talk to a few of his Friends – since they have a different idea of what’s a good member and that he had been known to make harsher and less forgiving decisions in the past.
After introducing Dizzy to three others, a human woman named Varia with a cold attractiveness and an unsettling look in her eyes, a waifish young and thin boy barely 16 named Arritius, and a late 30’s Halfling named Syppon – Dizzy being entranced into playing a game of checkers.
The game was a ruse and Dizzy was questioned by the 3 of them who had different ideas they were looking for. Varia wanted loyalty and honesty, Arrituis wanted someone who could be part of a group, and Syppon wanted someone who wasn’t into it for the thrill but had more of a clearer view of the long term aspects of his decisions. After the conversation went on for a bit, Caetius returned and flat out said he didn’t like adventurers. They owe allegiances to the guilds and their groups first and the Thieves guild end up getting the short end of the shaft. Their guild has a deal with the mage’s quarter and it’s been working well for them.
Dizzy tried to sell them on his ability to act as an impartial outsider who can vouch for Thieves guild members if need be, plus his party has 5 different mages and sorcerers already in their ranks so it makes sense to tie their skills together. Caetius was unsure and was willing to revisit this later. Right now the group had a mission to Canaslan and Paxian and something to do for Shandrilar of the Tower of Winds and if that went well, he would take it as a provisional ok that Dizzy could be admitted on a trial basis.
At this point the entire group got back together and we shared all we had learned as well as advised Paris to tread more carefully in the future – a consensus he seemed to be more apt to do along with a few much needed flagons of Ale.
We left the following morning on Spiritmonth the 5th, heading east down the maid road out of the Tradegates. The land within 3 or 4 miles of Erlyond was all farms and the like, well traveled and used. However as we went further away the population diminished and we were walking in mostly unsettled territory. It took us the better part of the day until we came upon a singular strange phenomenon – the air before us shimmered as if from a heat mirage, but nothing was there.
As we passed through the temperature rose from upper 40’s to upper 50’s and the air took on the scent of beer and ale as well as the faint underfunk one gets amidst unwashed clothes. The straight lines of the fields took on a bit of a wave and seemed less clean and crisp. A few people we saw welcomed us to Canaslan, and from their stance, seemed a bit…inebriated.
It was closer to 5 when we spied a main road travelling north off the highway, heading about half a mile to a walled city with a singular white castle seen even from this distance. That had to be Paxian, and there we would eventually meet with King Seljack.
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