Meet 101, Adv 6, 10/26/19

The party performed one of two possible "heists" at this point - splitting their forces to distract the Jannisary while the "sneaky team" went below to get the book they needed. Time was of the essence and it was the opportunity for the new guy to have a little time in the spotlight - as thieves are often able to do.

The adventure is just about over - a few more meetings and then we'll see how it all plays out.

Write up follows:

The group went over possible plans and then revisited them again and again until they came to the realization they would need 3 groups to carry this off, and each of the groups had their own limitations. We would need a group to enter the basement and find any paperwork that would prove what Lord Gregor Ostlerson was up to – that group WOULD need Thon as he knows the layout of the interior of the manorhouse but has already picked the lock there before.

We would need a group to act as a decoy/diversion for Thon, occupying the Janissary Haki’s attention and as many of his people as possible and if possible, the Lord himself. This group would need Darius who had already introduced himself as the leader of the merc company using the name Fergus.

Lastly, we would need a group or at least a few to stay back at the house with the wolf for two reasons: 1 – the wolf is poorly trained and taking it into the keep was not going to work. And 2 – we were supposed to have Thon chained up and wearing a bag on his head and since we needed Thon to enter the Manorhouse, it could not be him still at the house – which meant the only other orcish person in the group would be Barb – and she and the wolf do not get along.

Thanks to Silver Glass’s spell book, Thalin had access to Invisibility which did give us some extra leeway to making it happen. So – Shim was going to empty most of his bags and leave them here and ride in Thon’s backpack, we was also going to empty HIS bags and leave most of his stuff here – taking the 5 tumbler key that would get us to the basement.

Barb was going to wait here with the wolf and with one of the window shutters open and a chair situation near the corner that would cast her in some shadows – would put the bag on her head and sit there hulking if anyone was going to come and investigate – this left Brading, Darius (as Fergus), Thalin, and Eoghan to head for the Manorhouse.

As for getting the Janissary’s attention, they crafted a noted in which they indicated they would need some more money for a deliver job, but if read with care – the start of each line began with the letters, s-c-r-a-t-c-h. Hopefully something that would want Haki to meet with the group.

It was 1:45 when we finished our preparation and invisibility was cast on the gnome and the half-orc. Shim rode in Thon’s backpack, standing up and keeping his hands and arms on the half-orc’s head and neck to steady himself as well as guide if need be. The realized quickly that walking was a challenge as they could not see their feet and with the falling snow (already 12” and climbing) they had to walk in the middle or back of the group, with Brading acting as a plow break as he shoved his way through the falling and piled snow.

Once at the gate, the same guards were there as earlier and they talked to the group while Darius gave them the note and said he needed to talk to the Janissary. One of the guards went inside and we waited, talking with the other 3 who were watching the party with cautious care. Eventually the Janissary came out in the snow, had some words with Darius and mentioned a “problem to itch” and motioned for them to follow. They crossed the courtyard and at the foyer of the Manorhouse, were instructed to leave their weapons, shields and helms – and then inside to leave their cloaks.

While this was going on, the Janissary pulled one of the guards aside and whispered to him. He looked over the group and then walked past them to the main gate and out of the Demesne – heading towards the share crofter’s hut we had been staying in. Hope Barb was taking care of business. He left a page, a young boy in his early teen years to wait upon us and then lead the group to his offices. Besides the normal compliment of valets and maidens, there were 4 well equipped guards here and 2 more down the hall.

Once ready, we followed the page to the main hall and then to the left towards the offices – according to Thon’s notes, the only thing past here was the door he needed to go down on the right and eventually the main hall where Lord Gregor and his staff stay.

Once the group peeled to the left, Thon and Shim stayed back and waited until the halls were clear. The 2 guards followed the Janissary and party to the meeting room (plus 2 other guards in the area) and the page went with them – so for about a minute or less, the hall was clear.

Now.

Going to the door he worked his picks invisibly until the tumblers hit and then he entered silently, turned and shut the door. Alright, in! Stairs going down – no light. Infravision picked up faintly the line of the steps and there was a warmer source at the base some 16 steps down leading to another room. He took them one at a time but in the dark, invisibly, he did slip and skidded down a few steps before coming to a stop and nursing the few scrapes he had.

Sighing with relief, the half-orc and gnome passenger made it to the bottom where the withdrew the 5 pin key we had taken from Ixitch’s place, stuck it in the lock, and twisted the lock, opening it…

As for Darius and his lot, they were escorted to the Janissary Haki where they sat around the table with the administrator, guards obvious and present, and they shared a drink (required). Then it was some conversation about mercenary groups and wanting to make a name for themselves. Bigger jobs, better opportunities. Did we talk to Thon? Sure, but we were never told we couldn’t, and he did reveal some information that the “group” could use to potentially sell…stuff.

Effectively Darius and the others were peddling the idea that as Mercenaries, they can travel far and wide and sell product if need be and no one would be surprised to see them there. Haki was a bit dismayed that the group had spoken to Thon but did say that business being done here had hit a snag with a distributor being less than prompt and trustworthy.

If they can deliver Thon to Loring in Stivil and be back here in 5 days with proof of delivery without issue, he would then give them another job where they can go can “collect” a sizable sum that is owed to Lord Ostlerson – and they can keep 6% (after haggling). If they succeed in that…then they could be trusted as a possible source for distribution.

Holy crap – deliver the Half-orc to die in the arena and then the next job is effectively go to Ixitch and collect the money.

Darius and the others threaded a tight line in being agreeable and mercenary – but not give away anything that they shouldn’t already know concerning the situation. We figured we would need to give Thon and Shim more time so we dragged the conversation out for almost 40 minutes…

The door opened and there was a feeling of being tired as the two of them held their breath and entered the chamber slowly and with care. There were a few small candles lit. The far side of the chamber was covered with a large alchemist’s lab, many burners going and glassware spiraling up and down to different beakers. Assorted junk and bric-a-brac littered the floor and there seemed to be a body lying in the space near the table.

But it was the pair of baleful red eyes that looked around and glided forward as if a ghost. It came to the door, looked around, and then seemed to inhale and let out a deep breath that filled the hall with a mist that then seeped around the chamber. Thon and Shim made their way to the table where they could see raw lion’s leaf and eyebrite were distilling under some pressurized chamber and running up and along the alchemist’s lab. This was the creation of Scratch.

But what the heck?

Ghost? Where was the books? Any logs? And the dead body – was orcish and seemed to be a Firvinir type, fetishes and similar raw natural accoutrements. But dead for months.

This…was not going to do.

There was a drawer in the center of the table but the ghost was positioned there. We would need to remove him and then open the drawer. The two of them whispered a plan and came up with Shim using his innate ability of ghost sounds to make it sound as if the door was opening. Nice. When the ghostly figure went to the door, we would open the drawer, look for any book, take it, and hide it immediately in Thon’s backpack where it should be unseen.

So…Shim concentrated and the sound of the door opening DID cause the ghost to go over there. They quickly opened the drawer and it was filled with glass tubes and sticks and stoppers and corks and yes, a bound book! Eureka! They took it and hid it in Thon’s backpack just as soon as the eyes were at the door, inhaled…and breathed out.

The gasses having nowhere to go billowed back around the room and Thon and Shim both tried to hold their breath hiding in the corner but Thon succumbed to the sleeping vapors and passed out. Shit.

Shim now had to get Thon up and they needed to go as it’s been about a half hour he guessed. So he needed to get Thon up, but a “stab” would break the invisibility – he needed to be in the backpack. But the book was in there. So he needed to get it OUT of the backpack (visible) and into HIS backpack! Nice idea…But the ghost had come back and we were in line of sight.

Think…think…Shim was watching the fire under the Bunsen burner and had another idea. He used his innate ability to make dancing fires, giving them the same color and intensity of the Bunsen flame.

And then he had them crawl across the table. The ghost went crazy, trying to smack the table (ineffectively), fan them (ineffectively), even using a large rag to buffet the fires.

While the figure was not paying attention, he drew out the book and quickly shoved it in his backpack. He then tried to invisibly get in Thon’s backpack, the half-orc lying on his stomach. But he misjudged and fell out of the pack onto the floor. Fuck damn it fuck.

Trying again and struggling to keep the flames still dancing about, he backed into the pack, hunched low, pulled the flap over his head and then flicked his dagger forward from his wrist sheath and tried to stab Thon in the back through the back.

What should have been a small prick turned out to be sinking 6 inches of knife blade into Thon’s back.

Thon woke up and Shim was hissing at him to Shhhh while Thon was gritting his teeth and taking stock of where he was. The ghostly eyes were looking all over but saw nothing and was still fanning at the flames that were starting to break apart due to lack of clear sight as well as jostling inside the cramped backpack.

Thon got up, crossed the room, and they opened the door and ran up the stairs as the eyes came back and breathed AGAIN, making them lightheaded but doggedly still awake, they came to the top of the steps and opened the door…no one was there, but they could hear a voice nearby whimpering.

Going down the hall towards the entrance, the two hall guards were still not back, and there was a closet style room open with the page boy in there scrubbing boots and wiping his tears. The main room showed everyone’s cloak was still hanging so they were not gone yet. For some reason Thon thought about wiggling the door of the armory room which attracted one of the main entrance hall guards who was told to not worry. Shim was hissing from the backpack to knock it the hell off.

But Thon did it again at the other armory door. Which attracted the guards again who got pissed and decided they should let the Lord know “the ghost was acting up again”.

Fuck. The guards were walking around and the valets and chambermaids came out of the woodwork as well. With the crowding of the room, Thon and Shim went back down the hall and ducked into the closet the page had come out of.

At this time Darius and company were wrapping up their meeting with the Janissary when he was instructed that the “ghost” was acting up again and he ended the meeting now, going to the hall with the group following as well as those guards. And then Lord Gregor Ostlerson emerged with his OWN people from his chamber at the end of the hall angry and red faced. His appearance was very much like Fersic’s, except aged another 25/30 years. Tall, wide, blond, he was imperious in his demands and the guards let him know what was heard.

He whirled to an older woman in Helian robes, “Crone! What’s going on?! Is the damned thing still here?!” She grit her teeth, eyes rolling into her head and replied, “It’s here, my lord. Below as of now but agitated as if something has interrupted its work. I feel…yes, something has vexed it.”

He demanded she look into it while the Janissary introduced us to Lord Gregor. He didn’t seem to know any of us but had been briefed as to our cover story. He hoped we would serve to be useful to his needs as he could use some useful help as of late. Then he barked, “And shut this damned door!” and slammed the closet door closed. With invisible Thon carrying visible Shim inside his invisible backpack inside.

The Janissary wished us well and suggested we go back for now as there were problems here they needed to take care of. So we all went down to the entrance hall and got our packs and cloaks while Thon waited for the hall to get silent before sneaking out the closet door and making his way down the hall, past the surprised page who was looking at the now open closet door again!

Once we were all there we left (Thon letting Brading know he was there with some gentle taps and prodding) and made our way out of the manorhouse, off the Demesne, and back to our hut. Once inside a very relieved Barb and barking wolf was happy to see us. Apparently one of the guards came by about 45 minutes ago to look around but the snarling angry wolf gave Barb enough time to don the bag and sit in the corner – selling the illusion she was Thon and was still here tied up.

The consensus was after making sure we were all here was that we should get the hell out of here now and NOT wait for the snow to end. At best it was 8 hours with good weather to Stivil from here – and with 12”+ inches of falling snow it was going to be longer. But staying here once it was discovered we were in the basement and took something was going to be worse for us.

The book was an herbalist journal belonging to an orcish descended individual named Rargitild of the Green Hills. It dialogued roughly a year or so of his experiments and refining of Lion’s Leaf and other drugs into what was known as Scratch – the last entry being about 4 months earlier where the Sheriff of Durcent Province had paid him a visit and was dismayed at what was going on. Rargitild didn’t seem to have any nefarious motives and was researching for the pure pleasure of it. He did have dealings with the Falser Brothers who often visited with him to exchange recipe ideas and other alchemical and herbalistic ideas.

Rargitild was from Stivil. The Falser Brothers are from Stivil. The Falser Brothers work for Lord Ostlerson – and if there were records – they would have them.

Last line of the chain – Stivil.

We were gone within 20 minutes and Shim rode Darius’ shoulders as we trucked away from the hut and moved with speed and haste east, northeast. The snows continued to fall and the temperature dropped to the low 20’s, high teens…and then eventually 12 degrees.

Bundled in layer upon layer of clothing we trudged along breathing hard and trying to weather the bitter cold and mounding snow. Eventually Brading cast his precious few Endure Elements spells on 3 of us. Darius lit his brazier with about half of his coal and the party walked on. Some time during the night we saw a trio of mammoths walking through the snow and then 10 minutes later, a wolf pack of 8 following the shaggy pachyderms. With aching exhausted feet we kept walking one tired foot in front of the other. By 1:30 or so in the morning the snow stopped falling giving 19” solid in places, mounding up higher based upon snow drifts.

We were so tired, and cold, and aching, and sore. We were soaked to the skin and trying to keep on going when finally about 6 AM we arrived at the town of Stivil. The outer walls had been breached a century earlier and had never been repaired so there were dozens points of entry in and out of the city. The large semi-circle of the Arena was visible from just about anywhere and between Thon and Eoghan who both grew up here, they directed us to the Unshackled Wolf where we tiredly arranged a room and trudged our way 15 hours later up there to strip off our gear, lock the door and collapse to our beds for a long long long tired rest.

History - Nightwoods / Theocrat

One of my players is playing a gnome at this time and the subject of the gnomish homeland has come up again and again. He's asked questions about the Nightwoods as well as the leader, the Theocrat, to help understand while most of the gnomes in this area are the way they are.

So without further ado:

The Nightwoods have been home to gnomes as far back as an record goes. Original records also showed that halflings and elves lived there in roughly equal numbers but elves left many ages ago, and halflings over time filled with wanderlust have been emigrating out.

On good terms with the dwarven and orcish enclaves normally, it was when the Kaizer of the Randari Ympyr started his expansionist push that the Nightwood gnomes were approached to help control the orcish expansion. It was a close vote but the Nightwood gnomes went to war. (almost 130 years ago - gnomes live about 3.5 times the life span of a human)

Gnomes are gregarious creatures - they like to talk and they like the company of other creatures - especially gnomes. An individual gnome would get angry  - but a group of them to commit to all out war is almost unheard of.

After 4 years of fighting and the increasing xenophobic and bloodthirsty destruction the Gorokian Mountain Dwarves were displaying was enough for the Nightwood Gnomes to drop out of the combat and instead work for peace. Their removal from the conflict was enough for the Jarlborrin and Reetersbeard dwarves to do the same about a year later and the Gorokian Dwarves continued their shit for another year until every far flung outpost, keep, and orcish stronghold of power and government had been destroyed.

It soured the relationships between Gorok and Nightwoods ever since.

Normally all beliefs are welcome in gnomish society but the atrocities the dwarves exacted on the orcs for 6 years followed by the next 2 decades the gnomes spent on rebuilding, aid, and support for the broken orcish, human, and other races ravaged by the war made the following and belief in Odin, Thor, Sutur, Thrym, and Tyr seriously impacted and diminished in gnomish society. Open displays of worship were looked upon with some disdain and suspicion; warmonger, dwarf lover, and baby killer were bandied about often.

As the years went on the gentler gods were given sway and a greater impact on Nightwood society. Garl Glittergold and other ancestral gnomish figures were always revered but maybe 35 years ago a powerful orator and adherent for Garl rose to the head of the religious order where he espoused his name took only the title of Deacon.

Since then the following of Garl exploded - with public festivals, singing, dancing, shows, public works, and a firm rebuke for those who don't allow his followers their due. In time the following of the other gods also began to wane. Some of the fields began to have less yields, hunts became less fruitful, some trees might have had some sickness upon them.

The followers of Garl Glittergold did not suffer from these issues and offered to lend his help and prayer to those who needed his help - for a small stipend, a tithe - barely 5%. And again, the Deacon and the Garl Glittergold church prospered.

Other shrines were defaced, statues quietly removed, markers taken down. Priests and clerics were publicly ridiculed and chastised. The Deacon was eventually invited to be the High Lord's religious confidant - further expanding his reach and power. Other impacts of the other gods and even races were now being reduced further. Dwarven caravans were turned away at the borders, then other caravans were denied entry. Immigration trickled and the High Lord repurposed the gnomish armed forced to be one of protection - keeping all other races out.

And then the High Lord, always prone to bouts of brainfever, fell into a coma. Not dead, his heirs could not assume the throne - so it was up to the council to rule until he either awoke or passed on. The Deacon consolidated power amidst the council and was elected as the First or head councilor. He took the honorific of Theocrat and said to speak for the High Lord and Garl Glittergold for the betterment of all gnomes and gnomekind.

He tightened his grip on the Nightwoods and some gnomes not liking the way things were going agonized over the decision to leave but eventually did so. And many of them were denied the chance to leave! Turned BACK from the border, they were then taken by the Theocrat's people where they were indoctrinated again into the ways of Garl Glittergold, and taught that they have a purpose in gnomish society and that is to be a member of it - the outside world is not here and is not safe. This is the gnomish ancestral home and has been so as far back as history goes, at least a thousand years, definitely longer. You. Don't. Leave.

Ever.

Adherence to the Nightwoods is inimical to every gnome.
If you love the Nightwoods, then you love its leader, the Theocrat.
If you listen to the Theocrat's teachings and advice, then you show your love for our god, Garl Glittergold.

Gnomish families try to leave and the loudest dissenters sometimes just disappear.

There is a network of underground tunnels and escape ways that various centaurs, fauns, and satyrs help maintain along with a core resistance of gnomish followers of Idun and Frey who don't live in the 5 principle cities; instead make the homes and lives in the wild and try always to avoid capture by the Theocrat's Defenders. They help spirit the various gnomes in and out of the Nightwoods to others beyond the borders to eventually get these gnomes away and to safety. It is long, difficult, and expensive to maintain and do - but until the High Lord dies, Wakes up, or the Theocrat is removed from power - to some gnomes this terrible choice is all that's open to them.

Meet 100, Adv 6, 10/19/19

This was a meeting introducing a new player at our table as well as a Role Play heavy meeting.

Most of my towns have 2-3 defining characteristics that make them stand out as locations on their own and not to be confused with the other cities the group visits. But as have been pointed out with my current group - the naming convention of some of my towns have been in place for 20, 25, or even 30 years in real time.

So Falcor's Rise does generate the odd guffaw and cries of 'Falcor!!' from the table. As does Bork Keep and the Swedish Chef impressions of 'Bork bork bork'.

Whatever. Pbbth. :)

Write up follows:

Once inside we asked around and got directions to an inn called “The Experience” not too far from the main square. As for Falcor’s Rise, it was mostly an orcish town from its construction to its populace. The streets were ordered but not too neat, some of the grassy areas had succumbed to mud, and there was a bit of depression about the entire place. Also, many of the building had marking standards upon them, indicative that literacy was limited here at best.

At The Experience we were met by a half-orcish wench who seemed unimpressed with us before directing us to see Merk the proprietor if we wanted to stay. The clientele were afternoon drunkards and there was an area in the back where some sort of fighting would take place as evidenced by the roping area.

Merk took our order, we mostly bough some dark stouts and sandwiches of mutton, and then sat and talked about what to do. Most of the group didn’t want to stay, the place giving off the “rob you while you sleep” feel. As for the name, Mark eventually came over and let us know that in the evening they have Feats of Strength where you try to smash a barrel open with a Warhammer from a distance. And then afterwards, they have Trial by Axe where you try to sever a wench’s braid with a thrown axe.

Most of us were horrified but Brading was pretty stoked. We dispensed with staying here and made our way out (the young dwarf holding back long enough to drop some copper coins in Merk’s hand to save him a spot and room for later) and then took better view of where to go and what to do.

We had 2 days to kill so we asked around after getting to a clothier and weavers where we decked out a bit more in clothing lost, had some fur lining added to our cloaks, and did some shopping. We asked for a better place to stay and was told the “Iron Pen” was a good place to stay and was a bit further in town.  It was while we were here and wrapping up that one of the older women working the loom made her way to the front of the store to get a bolt of cloth when she gripped Barb’s arm tightly and with rolled over white eyes hissed at her in a quiet voice, “Beware girl, the Blue Boar has been released” and then let her go and shook it off, eyes rolling back to normal.

No one else noticed this.

At that exact moment, right outside the shop a fat raven gave a raucous squawk, fixed an eye on Barb, and then flew off to another building.

She grabbed Darius and told him what happened and the then the party finished their shopping and made their way outside where we saw 1, and then a 2nd raven take off from nearby roofs and then wing away. The feeling was the Ravenstone was the nexus for this and that the Blue Boar was most likely a person, not an actual animal. We were going to keep our eyes peeled for now.

At Eoghan’s request, we went to a local Bowyer named Flabo who repurposed older bows, and bought a simple short bow for him, happy with the price and comfortable with his skills. From there it was to the Iron Pen where the much better clientele, cleaner room, larger space, and busier staff made us more comfortable that our original choice (except for Brading who still wanted to try the other bar).

It turned out they also did Feats of Strength and we signed up, with Dwarf Tossing to follow! Which we ALSO signed up for! Including Brading and the “Tossee”. We talked to the staff and learned about the cold and that there was a White Dragon that awakens every winter for 2 months and hunts these lands named Icingheart. Hides in the clouds, comes with the snow, almost impossible to see and find – most people just live with it as the dragon avoids the cities and towns and picks off lonely and small groups of easy targets in the wilderness when able to.

As for the games, we had a great time with money being spent, some of us getting some coins for busting barrels and even Darius being allowed to participate in the dwarf toss as the Half-Ogres in the area said to “let the little man have a shot!”. With Darius getting a respectable 12’ on tossing Brading onto some laid out mattresses. Many threw further than him, some threw less. When Barb gave her dwarf a toss and only got 11’ she caught Darius doing a little victory dance and raised arms that she punched him in the kidney and dropped the fighter to the ground with a grunting snarl of “Stop gloating.” From the look Darius gave her, there would be payback at some point.

But the days passed and it was Deathmonth the 9th that we left the town of Falcor’s Rise, travelled down the highway back to the south and west, and then broke trail where Eoghan and Barb suggested would take us back to the woodcutter’s cottage. Sure enough, even with the accumulated frost and frozen dew,  it was obvious that someone else was here, stayed a bit, and then left. 1 set of horse prints from a heavy warhorse and 2 humans, male, booted – came about 2 days ago and left yesterday.

We followed the trail.

By the time 7 PM came and the night had fallen, we knew we still had some time to go. But the temperature was now in the low 20’s and dropping and the amount of cloud cover was increasing. How much further? Brading climbed one of the many Douglas Firs in the area until he was able to look in the direction we were traveling. Maybe 2 miles from here was a thin glow on the horizon – small town, large Thorpe? Camp?

We decided to camp here and set up cloaks, blankets, and lengths of wood and boughs to act as a vision break. Gathering wood we all got around the fire and one by one, took watch and slept the night away. The next morning the sky was steel grey and the promise of snow was on the air. It was by 8 AM that we were on the way as we trudged ever north and west.

Eventually we arrived at a ranch of sorts. Maybe 20 sharecrofter huts, 5 larger building, organized fields. About 15 odd people tilling what fields they could, gathering winter tubers. We made their way closer, the entire place reminding us very much of the layout of Durcent but a bit smaller. Maciles? Ostlerson?

We approached a husband and wife pair in the fields and talked with them, learning this was the Ostlerson Demesne, and the lord was Lord Gregor Ostlerson. There were 5 main buildings: the manorhouse, the granary, the traders, the tavern, and the gathering hall/church. And we could see the line of the prints in the snow did get lost in the fields a bit but headed without error right towards the Manorhouse.

Shit.

We made our way to the Tavern where we had a drink and startled the tavern keeper enough to signal a large heavy set man near the end of the bar. He sauntered over, holding his gut in and holding a truncheon. The feeling was local tough going to pot. He identified himself as Irgar and said he was a deputy for Sheriff Fersic Gregson. Who were we, what did we want, what were we doing here? Suspected we were mercenaries and suggested we move on. We said we would but the snow was coming, anyplace we can stay?

Were told we had to ask at the Manorhouse. We said we didn’t want to bother the lord and were told that ALL the homes here were owned by the local Lord, and if we wanted to stay, go and talk to him about it – otherwise finish your drink and move on.

We got the hint.

Irgar was Deputy? Was Thurbarn NOT Sheriff? What was going on? It’s been 11 days but still – what’s happening? We were told by the tavernkeep that there was lots of issues in the Western part of the Province but here, things were fine. And Sheriff Fersic? Come every 3 days give or take – was just here a day or two ago.

We made our way to the Manorhouse where we were told by the guards to wait while they get someone to deal with us. They were rude and unwilling to talk, but one of them was a trainer of wolfhounds and did get into a spirited conversation with Eoghan about his wolf. Eventually a tall well dressed, rich looking man with a sneer on his bald head came out. He was the Janissary Haki and we had a guard with a wide half-orc wearing a bag and manacled with him.

Lord Ostlerson was busy and didn’t want to meet with us so Janissary Haki was happy to. Yes we can stay in one of the older huts that wasn’t being used for 1 day and get a meal allowance – but they had to deliver this prisoner (delivered with a kick) to Stivil to Fightmaster Loring at the Arena. Apparently, this prisoner, Thon, was to fight wolves and bears and hopefully die doing so. He paid us 10 nobles for the efforts as long as we leave tomorrow, where Loring might give us another stipend for delivery as well.

We took the job and left, heading to the hut in question, going inside, and then getting to talking to Thon. Thon was a half-orc from Stivil who had tried to get a job on the Reetersbeard caravan but getting denied. Not wanting to return home he went looking for other work when he ended up befriending and joining the Wolf Skull Firvinir Orc Tribe. He grew close to a girl Greki and things were good until the fall festival where Scratch made its way into the youths.

He tried it, didn’t like it, but those that took it grew angry all the time and the mood was changing. Even Greki was becoming distant. Eventually there was a raid that she was a part of and when it ended badly with almost 10 of the raiders captured, the thought was to get Scratch out of the tribe entirely.

Thon learned a lot about the Durcent people who came to treat with the Chief and had respect for their new Sheriff and the members of the adventuring group who came to help out. Wanting to be a part of ending the hold of Scratch, he came back to Durcent where he made fake friends with a man named Fersic. Fersic was easy to fool and imagined Thon was his friend if not also stupid (he wasn’t).

Enough information came to him from Fersic about his father buying nails from Stivil made Thon think about following the trail to Fersic’s father, Gregor Ostlerson. The nails were the delivery system of the Scratch and it just seemed too good of an opportunity to miss. He convinced Fersic that he could do any job his father might need in his manor house and Fersic got him a job there.

He was moving hay bales from one side of the Stables to the other and other menial jobs, but he had a chance to look the place over. No drugs here…except there was an area in the basement below the manorhouse that needed a 5 tumbler key to open. That must be it.

Lord Ostlerson left with 2 of his trusted men 3 days ago on some trip and that was a good opportunity to scout. So @ 2 in the morning he tried the door, opened it with his picks, and made his way downstairs to another door. Working on that one he felt a puff of air and passed out.

He awoke the next day and Janissary Haki had some of the local thugs work him over with fists and saps, screaming at him constantly that he would be fucking dead and fucking dead soon for this shit. When Lord Ostlerson came back a day and a half ago with his men, he was already in a shit mood – but this just put him over the top. Janissary Haki had Thon beaten and then salted and then beaten again.

He was to be sent to Stivil where Loring would have him fight rapid animals until he either died, or earned enough money to get his freedom (most likely not). The only thing Lord Ostlerson was missing was someone to take him up there – which our arrival made happen. We were the adventuring group that he had heard about in Durcent – and he had a mental image of the Manorhosue and how to get to the basement – where if there were ANY records of what’s going on –that’s where they would be.

 And we would need iron clad proof of the drug operation to bring to Lord Durcent because going up against another Lord with just our word was tantamount to stupidity and suicide.

Meet 99, Adv 6, 10/12/19

During our adventure we managed to find 3 very beaten up and abused slaves and had to discuss freeing them, taking them with us, leaving them here, or what?!? This has come up before and there was some lively discussion around the table about them and their capabilities.

Not everyone likes this sort of woolgathering and thought process but I find it to be an integral part of the game and helps shape the party members and how they interact with one another.

Write up follows:

While looking through the charnel house that the basement entrance room had become, the group then turned their attention to the three doors on the south wall. We know there were “persons” behind at least 2 of them, and the thought went to setting them free or not. There was much spirited conversation before we at concussed that we should at least look – and then go to the vault upstairs and use the key we got of Ixitch to check the safe.

Barb was the primary speaker and we learned that there was a figure in there, Abarin Codsdottr, we was at the mercy of Ixitch and Malven “The Keeper” (The necromancer) who she referred to as master. She was terrified and kept her eyes closed on command. The room was a seraglio with cushions and bedding and pillows. Three stout 4 poster beds were here, one with a half orc girl in her early 20’s badly scarred and beaten, sporting burns and chained to the wall by manacles and a set of neck chains.

The next bed a catatonic dwarven female also bound but wearing a muzzle and lying in her own filth. The last was a human female dead about a week in a state of undress from torn clothing.

Crap.

After getting Abarin to understand we’d be back in a minute the party discussed feverishly the need to NOT leave these women behind. Brading was firm that they were ALL coming, Barb wanted to save Abarin, and Darius wasn’t sure about the dwarf being catatonic and moaning. We have to go and leave, and its 9 hours or so to the woodcutter’s cottage, and then what? Drag them with us? Where do we bring them?

These were real concerns but Brading was firm that it was the right thing to do. We tried to put a blindfold over the dwarf’s eyes but she was keening and screaming terribly so we stopped. Abarin said she’d been here 7 months or so and was from Stivil, her father was Cods Smithson. The dwarf was named Gersy and had been here about 3 or months and the reason she was screwed up was she had been forcibly taken and raped by The Keeper’s ghouls during the New Year’s Eve celebration.

Ugh, fucking shit.

Ok. We had Shim Ray of Frost both sets of Abarin’s chains and then smashed them from the wall. Her job was to calm Gersy down and we’d be back in an hour or less. We left there and discussed the problems ahead of us at length until we arrived at the vault. We opened the secret door and then noted that much of the tradesgoods had been taken – as well as the horse from the shed! Most likely Gerry Rockbottom.

But the safe was still closed so Will Murder used Ixitch’s key to open the lock…and succeeded! It was filled with thousands and thousands of copper commons as well as a smattering of nobles, bits, and even crowns. There were two bags with some fancy stones within. We guessed over 150 lbs of coin so we divvied it up amongst everyone and then trooped back down to the basement.

The thought was that we were most likely running against the clock before someone from Paxian would be showing up and we wanted to be very gone from here before then. So we went back to Abarin and Gersy who was much better. Gersy was staring at Brading, the only other dwarf in the group and was crying. Brading called to Heimdall, begging for Virtue for her and she sighed and then passed out.

We freed the two of them and went out to the basement and then main entrance hall upstairs. Meanwhile, the last room had a male figure in it calling out. Rygar Halfman. Darius freed him, a mostly orcish (small bit of human) young man of about 14 or so, badly beaten with rope scars around his neck. Said he started out as a linkboy and valet in training for Ixitch before Nardolen the druid took a fancy to him and used him often for her depravity – been here about a year and a half.

We all got upstairs, then outfitted everyone with the bug out bags, some spears and helms, made sure to all be ready. Shim had everyone get together and then hit the entirety of us with a prestidigitation spell, cleaning everyone – which we needed. So it was by 2 that we left Ixitch’ Manorhouse behind and made our way north and west, back to the Hills and hopefully to the Bloodtusk Hobgoblin camp.

It took us the better part of 4 hours to get there and Will Murder spoke of our efforts and the passing of Bad Tom and Elsa Ire. Meanwhile Abarin, Gersy, and Rygar were going to be an issue for us. Rygar had some sort of serious training from what we can tell and Gersy had the Nightengale effect on Brading.

We slept well and the next day we left and continued on our way to the place marked on the map where Ixitch and Big GO would meet up at neutral location – hoping to find something that would lead us back to Big GO. Will Murder took a bag of coin as his share for the efforts at Ixitch’s stronghold and from the many thousands left, Darius put a decent handful of coins in Rygar’s pouch and told him his charge was to take the 2 women safely to Stivil and make sure they were reunited with Abarin’s father.

He wanted to meet up with Darius after but Darius played is close to the chest. Meanwhile Barb did the same with Abarin, giving the half-orcish girl a stipend of coins and telling her to go home and take care of Gersy who would need it.

By this time we had gotten to the barrier between Canaslan and the rest of Rand and there was 5 inches of snow beyond the border. So we made sure we were well covered and then stepped out – and it was cold – maybe mid 20’s, biting wind. We trudged on, Eoghan and Barb guiding us through the snow for hours and hours until we passed the highway on the map between Erylond and Falcor’s Rise – and it was about a half mile before we arrived at the spot on the map.

We gave Rygar our best, Darius gave him the Cat Pillow he had been carrying from home from his mother’s living room as a token for him to remember the group, made sure they were gone, and then approached the house with care. Tall A’Frame style woodcutter’s cottage with an attached stables that would house 2 steeds. No smoke from the chimneys, shutters tight.

We approached from the east to minimize being seen. No one had been here recently and the wood bid outside had barely a day and a half of wood in it. All was locked up tight. Door was Ironwood, shutters were reinforced – not typical. We lifted Shim to look through the soffits on the stables and he saw some owl sign – two stalls, 3 bales of hay, pretty clean, 1 saddle and nothing else.

As for the house, no one had been here for a week plus so we used Ixitch’s key – and damn if it didn’t open the door! Woodcutter’s cottage had no root cellar, all joints and boards were flush and tight, 1 main room with a loft. Loft had some boxes but were empty although one had coins at some point in it. Kitchen had no food but 4 bottles of Forgewhiskey and a stoneware jar of Stonepiss Beer – seating for 6 – bowls and mugs were simple wood.

The fireplace had two piles of wood nearby, one with red waxy coating, the other blue. Shim began scraping the wax off one of the logs and the spell on it flared, filling the room with BRIGHT red light blinding three of us, before a blazing rune appears in the air and broke apart.

What the hell? Signal logs? Since the rune never left the room, we guessed we were ok. We were going to stay here tonight, light a fire and toss a signal log in it, hopefully attract the Big GO and then retreat to Falcor’s Rise for a few days, returning where we would rely on Barb and Eoghan to follow the tracks back to wherever Big GO was.

The next morning, Deathmonth the 7th, was crisp and cool and we threw a blue log on the fire while Darius and Eoghan went outside to see which way the rune flashed off to the west – and the flash blinded Eoghan again. Lol.

We left the cottage, locked it up, covered our tracks and made our way back to the Highway and then Northeast another 3 hours to Falcor’s Rise. A walled city deep in the original Randari territory, they subsist on trades with various Randari semi-nomadic tribes and take a dim view to fighting inside the town with most fines being 5 commons first offense and then expulsion afterwards.

We had a rough time getting in since Eoghan’s wolf was not trained and barely followed his commands, struggling to even sit when prompted. Eventually it required leashes, collars, and even a muzzle which Barb was willing to help with even though the animal almost snapped at her. Once done we made our way through the gates and entered Falcor’s Rise.