.jpg){kind=small}
Bastard Son of the great-grandchild of the sister's gibbon's friend of the nephew of the Campaign that Would Not Die, now in 3.75e
Møøse Trained By: Hugh Foster
Møøse Trained By: Hugh Foster
|
|
Bastard Son of the great-grandchild of the sister's gibbon's friend of the nephew of the Campaign that Would Not Die, now in 3.75e Møøse Trained By: Hugh Foster |
 |
9. With the comatose Foamer helped over the line to the next world, the party concluded that there was one turning they had not explored in the caves so far. Leaving Neithar with the rescued children, they headed off to check it out.
7. The last cavern turned out, to no-one's surprise, to be empty. It was considerably more comfortably appointed than the bare, bandit-camp caves they'd seen so far, wit a nice bed, decent chair and table, couple of storage chests, maps attached to the walls and a shelf with books on it. All bore signs of a hasty departure, the chests standing open, gaps in the bookshelves and a few clothes and items dropped on the floor. A poorly closed secret cavity in the wall contained nothing but a couple of dropped coins.
It dawned on the party then that the sorceress Dwaliden they'd killed in 5 had not been the leader of these bandits; it had been whomever had been occupying this cave, and that person had made off while the battle had been raging. They'd rested since then, so whoever it was would be long gone.
 |
As they were heading out, Borax spotted a bit of paper on the floor under the mattress he'd diembowelled. It was written in the Elventongue, which he didn't speak. Leaning over his shoulder, Ruby translated; "Usual place, 212.91 of the Second". Neithar, leaning over the other shoulder, commented, "That's an Empire date," referring to the method the Scorpion Elves used to count time.
Gathering the ears of their victims, they left the caves and headed back to the top of the valley, where they found Calcryx perched in a tree from where he'd been watching events. "I saw your bonfire," he said, nodding to the still-smoking ashes of the cabin. He'd seen two Slitheren emerge from the caves while they'd been inside; the warrior who had fled the second battle in 5, and another, heavily cloaked and stealthy of movement. The warrior had made off to the north, and the other to the east.
 |
A quiet conversation ensued with respect to the disposition of the children. Thusler and Kwin were easy enough; they could be left at their home town of Sterling. The two dwarves, Belkran and Dolsun, probably likewise. But the scorpion elves were a problem.
 |
Living this close to the Stormwall, the people of Sterling were unlikely to react well to them, and would probably consider them either dangerous or likely to attract attackers from the Empire. Neithar didn't have good answers, but he promised to spend time with them while the group travelled, and try to come up with something.
After three days recuperating at the hydra pool, the party was ready to move on. The now-clear waters of the ancient elvish pool had cleansed, restored and strengthened everyone; even though there was a dead hydra at the bottom, and Borax washing his bollocks at the edge, the pool was clear and clean.
Neithar had managed to make some headway with the elvish orphans. It seemed their parents had fled the Empire in the hopes of getting their children out of the culture before it shaped their personalities. With the boy, Da'raev, it was apparent that they had been too late. His attitude, once removed from the fear of his captivity, had soured, and he clearly regarded all those around him as being of lesser races; a mixture of the attitude of the pre-Dragon elves and the corruption of Sabath. He, alone of the children, had retained the weapons handed out when it looked as though the children might have to defend themselves, clutching them as if ready to use them. He had particularly fallen out with Calcryx for some reason, and they now loathed each other. He was determined to go home. The girl was badly traumatized by something she'd experienced in her past, and was adamant that she did not want to go back.
Borax, at Neithar's request, had made a small pair of the same fake dark glasses he himself had for Zaknadol.
Neithar and Calvis took charge of the majority of the party, while Borax and Ruby took Da'raev north to within sight of the Stormwall. As they travelled, the landscape became less and less wholesome, until when they reached the barrier, the land was warped and the foliage distorted. The wall itself was a titanic piece of construction, made by the elves in the wake of the attack on Belamir by the Elf Hammer long ago. It was basically a huge earthwork, fifty feet high, with a thick wall of interwoven trees at the top, which seemed to shift and twine slightly as the pair watched them through their telescopes. It extended all the way around Belamir, one of the greatest pieces of work wrought by the elves since their return to Alair. To their woe, most of it was now under the control of the tainted ones of the Empire.
Looking at it, they felt a sudden moment of insight. The belt of Desolation that ran up to the wall was not being "kept back" by it as it tried to extend inwards; it was being focussed outwards and sustained, as an extra defence. No other people on Alair would have considered such an act; the Desolation of Varkar had been such a terrible blight that all peoples, even those who hated the elves, had been glad of their redemption of the land it had covered. To intentionally reverse that, even in a small area, was an apalling act, a war crime of a high order.
Borax and Ruby set Da'raev in motion towards it, equipping him with supplies. Without a shred of gratitude, masking his fear with his best attempt at arrogance, he turned and set off determinedly for the distant shape of the earthwork, a couple of miles away. They watched him go, wagering a few coppers on his chances of survival. The bet nearly paid off as a warped creature - a Curst badger or some such - attacked him, but he managed more through luck than judgement to fend it off with the short sword he'd been given, and carried on until he was lost in the distance.
Having rejoined the others back at the pool, the party headed back to the village of Sterling. As they walked in through the fields, farmers and workers spotted them, and ran to meet them, the word spreading until they entered the village proper in a growing crowd of the villagers. Most were cheering their return with children; some came running and then turned away in tears; their children were not among the saved. Suddenly, a woman burst through the crowd and threw herself onto the two human children; this was Menna, Dragahisa the Ropemaker's wife. Weeping in gratuitude, she hugged the startled Borax and Ruby and thanked them over and over. With surprising gentleness, Borax broke the news that her husband wasn't coming home, without going into details. Gravely, young Thusler assured his mother that they could take over the trade between them, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house.
The town's carpenter Zaurr, among others, was a dwarf, and he and his wife were more than eager to adopt the two dwarvish orphans. Dwarves, like elves, had a very low birthrate, and children were precious to them. Borax quietly handed both sets parents fifty marks per child, makin them amog the richest families in the village.
Their previous billets in the barn of the Flag and Blade were available; in fact, nothing was too good for them, and they were almost forcibly sat down at tables to be fed more than they could possibly eat. Calvis slipped Zaknadol away to the barn before anyone noticed her eyes, covered by Neithar whipping the party up with jolly, singable, danceable rousing songs one after another.
 |
Generously reprovisioned and with gratitude resounding in their slightly hung-over ears, they had set off back towards Aeglor's Fist. As they approached, Neithar eyed the heavy fortifications and shook his head. "I can try to hide here at Utkinton," he said, "but I doubt either of us will be safe in there. I'll carry on, and see you in town when you get there." Ruby nodded. "We have loot to sell, and stuff to buy, before we ride out with the Baron," he said. "We'll see you at the Knave." Borax gave him some money to help with the girl, whom he'd renamed Zalia.
As he was turning away, the sun shone directly into his eyes, and Ruby blinked in surprised. Very faintly, she could see the shape of his iris and pupil deep within what had before been utterly dull black eyes. She hesitated to mention it, and the moment was lost as Neithar turned away.
As they reached the gatehouse, the guards on duty recognized them, and greeted them in a friendly way; they were now known as allies. "Is the boss in?" asked Borax. "Lt Faran's around," said one, "but the Baron's off somewhere, not sure where."
Inside the curtain wall, the fort seemed fairly quiet despite there being more people than last time; midwinter was not a time to be travelling, even in the south of the world. Nobody had moved into their old quarters in the barracks, so they stabled Terence and Brew and left Calvis and Meepo with the heavy gear while they headed for the Rowdy Rider.
 |
After a pint or two, the Lieutenant stepped in, smiling as he saw them and heading over to sit down at their table. "How did it go?" he asked. Their response - upending a sack of assorted ears onto the table - drew outraged coughs and splutters from the barman, and Faran mollified him slightly by holding three fingers aloft as he scraped the decaying relics back into the bag.
As he listened to their report on what they had found in and around Sterling, Faran reacted with both pleasure and horror. Finally, he nodded as he stood and litfed the bag. "Good job," he said approvingly. "I'll get these tallied and your pay sent over. I assume I'll see you in a week?"
.jpg) |
The next day, they returned to Utkinton, fast becoming a home base for their operations. Like the Fist, the town was rather quiet, snow lying on the ground in places, and fewer people on the streets. Dragasol the landlord was pleased to see them again, and directed them to the same room, while quietly hinting to them that they could always upgrade to multiple rooms if fortune had been kind. Meepo and Calvis headed out to catch up with some business of their own, while Borax settled into the bar with a good book and ordered a breakfast big enough to take him through to lunchtime.
.jpg) |
Ruby and Calcryx headed back out to visit Rowla. She was a little taken aback to find the forge banked and the smith sitting close to it for the warmth doing paperwork. "Business bad?" asked Ruby from the door. When Rowla had finished hugging her in greeting, she answered "A bit; it's winter, so a few fire-irons and coal-scuttles. Dorguld has let it be known that he wants weapon-making reduced while the Barrelrollers and Shoebangers are still killing each other." Ruby chuckled. "Tell him there's a war coming," she suggested, only half-jokingly. "Is there?" asked Rowla nervously. "I don't think so."
.jpg) |
Rowla and Calcryx were pleased to see each other, their unlikely friendship sealed by the strange metal they'd created. Ruby suggested a further test, and made up the forge while selecting some bar steel. The three set to work, Ruby and Rowla forging and Calcryx doing the quenching with his magical frost breath - something that left Rowla in need of some first aid afterwards. Towards evening, they sat around the table studying the results; a masterwork quality long sword with very peculiar snowflake patterns intrinsic to the metal itself. It had taken an edge normally enough; but it wasn't exactly steel any more. The sparks as it kissed the sharpening wheel had been actinic blue, not the usual orange. Ruby suggested calling it "cold steel" and took it to show to the mage-guild.
The next day, Borax, Ruby and the Bag of Holding went up to the Mageguild, where they were soon met by Astowyr, their previous contact. He was a bit disappointed they'd brought him no more Nephilium, but was soon deep in negotiation for the various odds and ends they wanted to sell. He was only mildly interested in the martial pieces, but very willing to buy the masterwork quarterstaff; "Most wizards make staves," he said, "this is a magic staff blank basically. Save someone a bit of time!"
They ordered some enchantments upgraded on their shields and a greatsword Ruby fancied trying out, stressing that they needed to be done by the 9th and paying a bit extra to ensure this.
They visited their previous contact, the bookseller Arnormor, who took the Krultac phrase book and heap of assorted books from the Sunless Citadel. When they unfolded the maps from the bandit leader's cave, he tried to hide his interest, but his wargamer's heart clearly yearned for maps of the fallen Empire and long-lost Sildor of the elves. When they suggested going to "that other guy who was interested," just on the off-chance, they clearly guessed well, because the normally dry bookseller fired up into a rage; "What? That Warhammer player?" he spat like an insult, and settled for their asking price without further argument. Both parties felt they'd done well, the perfect trade.
The town's only dedicated weaponsmith Damarela unenthusiastically took the heap of mundane, holed armour and used weapons off them; while the Constable didn't want them selling, he was clearly quite happy to make a few marks while there were still a few shoemakers and taverners left.
Walking back, the pair considered their growing pile of money. While the Bag of Holding made it perfectly manageable to transport, eventually they'd need to convert it down to something physically smaller - or spend it of course! A moneychanger could reduce it to platinum royals or gems - at usual rates - but Utkinton didn't have one, or a jeweller. Ruby mentioned a bank; Utkinton, small as it was, did have a tiny Guild Venter bank, but Borax wasn't convinced. He only barely understood banks, the Duergar not having them and his adoptive parents being of the "sock under the mattress" persuasion.
 (Medium).jpg) |
Astowyr was very interested in the cold steel sword. He turned it, and examined it, and cast some divinations on it and stroked his beard. Eventually he looked up. "I'd be interested in experimenting with this, see what happens when I enchant it." "How much?" asked the practical Ruby. "Standard cost for a simple sword," [+1 in crass game numbers!] he said, "and I'll split the cost with you. I'm intrigued by this stuff." Ruby agreed; "If we don't come back, send it to Rowla," she added.
Next, they unpacked the largest of the three telescopes and showed it to the wizard. He was very interested in it, and eagerly took it off their hands. They weren't sure, but thought they might have heard him mutter something about being able to see "Mrs Buge in the bath."
They looked through what the Guild had available for sale, but most was too pricey or not a great deal of use to them, so they headed back to the Knave. There they found Neithar, who had reclaimed his residency at the Wheel and the Tankard. He had some ideas about finding a home for Zalia, and planned to stay in Utkinton rather than ride with the Baron. "It'd only take some overzealous paladin and you'd be short a bard," he commented, "but I'll be ready next time you go out on your own account." Borax mentioned what Ruby had told him about his eyes, providing a mirror, and Neithar was shocked and unsure what the change meant. Zalia, for all she'd been out of the Empire nearly as long as Neithar, showed no signs of similar changes. Naturally, there was no-one they could ask...
 |
Session Date: 6th July 2026 |
 |