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Feb 23
Lady Sethra
Interlude – An unknown island in an unknown sea…
“I strongly protest your decision Lord Kotar!” the slaver mage said, indignation and fury apparent in his voice.
“Do you really Bokka? You think we should continue to lose resources to these people? We have the ship, I’ve sent teams inland after suitable… resources to let us recover its functionality and hopefully build more of them. I don’t see any purpose in paying any more attention to them. Lady Sethra has warned against our involvement in their activities any longer as it could prove… costly.”
“So we let them get away with what they’ve done? I’ve given you the report that they killed most of our people in Larkson and caused our contact with the bandits and the tribes to disappear. We don’t know what’s become of him, only that he wasn’t in the warehouse. And what about my brother? You’ve read the report, these people killed him and destroyed his ship.”
“Your scheme to take over that city doesn’t sit well with most of the Nine Bokka. We don’t belong inland, we belong on the seas. And I really don’t care about your brother, he ruined more cargo than any other captain I’ve known. If you have an razor to hone for them, you do it on your time but I am not spending more men or gold to go after them.”
Bokka, a thin ascetic man of average height, swore softly and his hand slid toward the blade sheathed at his side, the green glowing gem in the pommel pulsing in time with his heartbeat. The stocky figure in robes on the ornate large chair arched an eyebrow at the motion.
“Really Bokka?” Lord Kotar’s voice held traces of amusement. The shadowy figures swirling around the room fluttered close in anticipation, hunger apparent in their motions.
The room was a frozen tabluea for a long moment then Bokka’s shoulders slumped “I obey your wishes in all things Lord.” he said through gritted teeth, hands disappearing into the sleeves of his robes, away from his soulblade.
“Then please return to Safe Harbor and guard the airship for me. I would be very… perturbed were anything to happen to it. Send a fetch when the teams arrive with the artificers and keep me updated on their research.”
“Aye m’lord.”
“And Bokka, if anything happens to that ship, you’ll be a long time dying.”
“Aye m’lord.”
Bokka fled the room, one of the shadows silently closing the door behind him. From behind an ornate tapestry a beautiful woman stepped, hair the color of night and skin so pale veins formed a pale blue web under it.
“Love, you should deal with that one now. I’ve read the strands of the weave and in very few of them does he not covet your position.”
Kotar reached out and gently grasped the woman’s hand and pulled her close. “And in all those possible strands does he ever succeed dear?”
Sethra’s mouth twitched in a slight smile, “Only in a very very few of them does he manage to take your place love. I believe the phrase, ‘pigs are flying’ is appropriate for him.”
“As I thought, he is weak, tied to petty feuds, born of a weak strain. I think before long the line of Jothan should be erased. Only which of the minor captains to replace him? Such a quandary…”
“What of the ‘heroes’ love? In many strands, they oppose you and their fates are entwined in your downfall in many more.” she asked, running her head over his face, using her fingers to ’see’ him as the dark sockets where her eyes had once been looked into the distance.
“We shall wait and see. They’ve lost one already to mischance. I think we shall simply wait and see what else chance brings to them. Send a fetch to Robear in Larkson, have him work on our contact there, I need a schism opened so we can operate more freely.”
“As you ask so shall it be love.”
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Feb 18
We want the book...
Interlude – On The Horizon
“Kord’s balls, what the hell?” the guard exclaimed looking out at the east road. A naked figure was stumbling down the road, covered in blood. As it dropped in the packed dirt in front of the gate she could see it was not only naked but most of the skin of it’s arms and upper chest had been removed. In the distance at the top of the first rise of the road she spied what could only be a warband of hobgoblins.Â
A shout, the gruff voice of her sergeant barked up from below, “What is it trooper!?”
“There’s a man, I think it’s a man, he’s hurt, hurt bad in the road below and I shit you not sarge there’s a full hob warband no more than 200 yards up the road.”
“Awww shit. Coleson, Donal, Tig spread the alarm, I want every square foot of this gods damn wall manned and I want it done NOW!”
Pounding feet sped off behind her and the brazen clanging of the alarm bell started to sound. The halberd in her hand didn’t seem nearly as impressive as the dim light glinted off the naked steel arrayed among the hobgoblins. The ladder behind her creaked under the massive form of the dragonborn sergeant.
“Well fuck me sideways…” Sergeant Drakotta said softly.
“What do you want to do about him Sarge?” she said pointing out the bleeding figure below.
“Shit, can’t leave him there. And they’re held up far enough way for someone fast to get out and get him. I remember you’re speedy Bawndi. Get down that ladder, grab Hork and get out there and get him.”
“Crap Sarge, why…”
“Cut it trooper, get your ass down there now or you’ll be safer out there than here!”
Bawndi grimaced and nodded. She slid down the ladder dropping lightly to the ground below. “Hork! Get your skinny ass front and center, Sarge has a job for us. Tally, you and Peete open the gate, we’re going to run out there and grab that guy. If the hobgoblins charge you slam the gate you make gods damn sure that there’s no way I can make it back before they get to the gate or I swear to all hells I’ll have your ass no matter what it takes.”
As two of the guard turned the winches that pulled the massive bars back from the gate, Bawndi and Hork, a thin almost scrawny human but with surprising strength, stood poised as the thick iron bound wooden gates parted sideways. As soon as the gap was big enough to squeeze through they did so, sprinting down the road toward the bloodied figure.Â
Bawndi slid to a halt next the man, eyes taking in the ruin, the skin was gone from his shoulders in long strips that ran halfway down his back. She knelt, not sure where to grab the man as Hork retched next to her. “Suck it up! You toss on me and I’ll make you pay for a long time.” she hissed glancing up at the other watchman, tossing a glance toward the hobgoblins that remained motionless in the distance. “Grab the hands, I’ll get the feet. Hurry up gods damnit!”
Together they picked the man up, carefully but quickly rolling him over and then moved back to the gate at an awkward shuffle, Hork moving backwards to keep an eye on the hobgoblins.  With release of held breath they passed through the gate again, multiple watch including the Anvil mercenaries were gathered around, weapons ready. A stretcher appeared and they laid the man on it. A watch healer stepped up and laid a hand on the man’s forehead and a glow appeared around her fingers and sank into the man’s flesh, the flesh knitting and healing. Â
The man screamed sitting bolt upright then trying to lunge away, troopers grabbing him and pressing him back down. His struggles died as his terror filled eyes took in his surroundings. Sargeant Drakotta pushed through the crowd, squatted by the man, “What’s going on? Who are you?”
The man shook his head, stammered, “Stanal, my names Stanal. They destroyed the village, killed everyone! They kept me alive to deliver a message.”
“What’s the message? What village?”
“My home, Greenoak village.”
One of the watch spoke up, “I know the place Sarge, maybe ten buildings, about thirty or forty people.”
Without looking back, Drakotta rasped out, “Next man that speaks is going to regret being birthed. Now, you, Stanal, what do they want?”
“They want some book they say is here, some book with a name in it. They’ll give you a week to come up with it. Every week they don’t get it, another village dies. When they run out of villages then they’ll march on the city.”
“What the fuck? A book?”
“Yes, that’s what they said. Said someone would know what they’re talking about.”
A voice called down, “Sarge, they’re moving out, heading south.”
Drakotta rocked back on his heels, shook his head. “Well someone sure as shit ain’t me.” He rose, yanking the man up with him, hand locked like a bear trap on his wrist. Bawndi, you’re with me. We’re taking this one to the captain. Frost, take over here. Keep them on their toes and keep everyone’s eyes open. This could be a feint of some kind. Send runners, make sure the east gate is covered and send someone to Joncel and make sure he’s got the river side sewn up.”
“Aye sarge.” replied a hardbitten trooper, “I’ll get’em moving.”
“Come on you, let’s go. And someone get these people moving, show’s over!”
Drakotta lead the way down the road at a swift pace, the farmer behind him and Bawndi trailing, naked steel in her hand and mistrust on her face.
Feb 04
Something wicked this way comes....
Excuse the hiatus, we take one week off out of every four and last week we also had a huge snowfall to contend with that made it dangerous to get together. With any luck we’ll be playing this weekend.
In the meantime –
“Councilman with all due respect I believe the idea has merit. Council Lerik’s idea of locking the 5 of them up for a few days to see if the murders stop will harm no one and it might help uncover the truth.”
“See, even the guard are smart enough to know I’m right Garon.” came the oily voice of Councilor Lerik as he leaned forward, thrusting out a finger to point to the chainmail clad form of Captain Warik, commander of the guard.
The creases of Warik’s eyes bunched slightly and then smoothed out at Lerik’s tone, insulting without giving cause for insult. A skill the man possessed in spades, one that Warik couldn’t help but wish would get the man… hurt. Not killed, he wasn’t that obnoxious but Warik wouldn’t be unhappy to hear that the councilor had met with some mishap, maybe a broken bone or two. It would be too much to ask that Lerik became a victim to the person or creature that was killing townsfolk each night.
“Captain! Did you hear me?” Garon asked sharply.
“Sorry sir, something occurred to me about the murders that distracted me.”
Garon shook his head, “I said no we won’t be tossing them in jail. They’ve done well enough by us. They chased that creature out of the Eris temple, were captured and almost killed trying to solve our gold thefts, we know more about the murders because of them. No, they stay free.”
“You realize they ‘found out’ information on the murders because they committed them!” Lerik spat out.
Garon leaned forward, planting his palms on the table, “That’s enough! I know you have issues with them Lerik. You have issues with anyone who doesn’t fit your god’s image of the ideal. Oh I know who or what you worship. So far your belief’s haven’t interfered with your ability to keep the merchants happy and in line but don’t push things too far. Without my goods to sell and Teagan’s boats and wagons to ship them you’d be a little unpopular with everyone both merchant and commoner so I suggest you give up this little vendetta you have against these people.”
Lerik dropped back into his chair, mouth open and then a look of furious anger crossed his face. Without a word he rose and stormed out of the council chamber, Jan, the pretty young woman who’d taken Tanner’s place following after an uncertain pause, tossing an apologetic look around the room.
“What a pleasant individual.” Warick growled.
“That’s enough from you too Captain. We all need to get along. I know we’ve had our differences, I know you don’t like the changes we’ve pushed down your throat as it were about hiring outside help, which again doesn’t indicate a lack of confidence in your or the Watch’s ability. But with the slaver raid, the murders and I know you don’t care to believe in them but of late all the temple priests have spoken of auguries that bad times are coming, very bad times. Better poorer but prepared. Perhaps if we’d of had these extra troops then my own… Never mind. As I say we need to get along with him and each other for the protection and benefit of the town.”
Warick nodded curtly, “Aye, I can understand your position Councilor.”
“I hear a but in there but I won’t push it. Please go on, we’ll go over your report and see if we can make anything out of it. Do what you can to catch this killer and keep our people safe.”
“Aye, that I can agree with.” Warick saluted the two councilors and their aides and turning on a heel left the room.
Teagan, the eladrin in charge of shipping who up till now had been quiet spoke up, “Berylon would you and Spar be so good as to wait in the other room for a few moments?”
The two aides glanced at each other and Berylon shrugged, “Sure, just summon if you have need. C’mon Spar.”
After the room was empty and the door closed Teagon leaned back in his chair. Face calm and impassive, eyes wandering over the decorative carvings in the ceiling of the council chambers he spoke quietly, “You know that one is beginning to overstep his bounds. His hatred of all non-humans is affecting his dealings with me. I know he’ll be dead in 20 or 30 years and be out of my hair but it’s going to be a long 30 years at this rate. Out of curiosity as he’s without heir or acknowledged relation as far as I know who would inherit if something were to happen to our fellow councilman?”
Garon shot a sharp look at the eladrin, “You know the answer to that and I don’t like where that question is going Teagon.”
Teagon flicked his eyes over and gave a miniscule shrug, “I’m not proposing anything Garon. I’m just noting that the man has a lot of people irritated at him. And ever since that deal with the slaver, if it was a slaver, he’s gotten a lot worse. Did you know he’s pushing all the merchants under his control to get rid of their non-human employees? I also heard that he wants to erect an altar to that banal spiteful god of his. Yes you humans make up the highest proportion of the cities population but humans versus non-humans you’re in a distinct minority. It’s irrational hatreds brought upon people by the ideologies of the likes of that one and his ilk that could end up destroying this town much less the slavers or reavers or whatever it is that the priests are warning us is coming.”
Garon suddenly chuckled, “You know that’s the most I think you’ve ever said at one time. Yes the man was never pleasant and lately he’s turned downright vile, even to his ‘own kind’. I think though that you overestimate the draw of his beliefs and the power of Bain. Did you know he already has an altar to his god in a cellar under his home? Ahh, see, we both have sources of information. And do you know how many people in his circle of ‘friends’ and acquaintances actually pay homage to his detestable little godling? Only twelve that I know of. Twelve followers out of how many people in this town? Nay he poses no real threat to the security of the town. And he’s brilliant at keeping the merchants in line, paying their taxes and not overcharging the commoners.”
Teagon’s lips curled up slightly, “I bow before your wisdom then Garon. Perhaps I shall learn somewhat of it during the time you have left on this plane of existence.”
“We live as the gods decree my friend. Even your longevity might be cut shorter than you’d like as your gods wish. As for myself, I find it pointless to worry about it. Have you come up with anything we can do or have the Watch do to try and protect the people?”
Teagon shook his head, “Without knowing what we’re dealing with there’s little we can do. Trying to ward every home, building and store against everything would be impossible. But if we can find the creature’s nature we might be able to come up with something or so my people tell me.”
“The information that the group gave us was of no help?”
“Not really. Necromatic arts are pretty far reaching. We need to know the nature of the creature, if we could get something that belonged to it, an article of clothing or better yet flesh or blood then perhaps those skilled in the arts might come up with a way to track it.”
Garon snorted, “Blood? Hells we can’t even find the blood of the victims.”
“A chilling part of the deeds. Where is the blood going and what is it being used for. I fear the answer will not be one we wish to know.”
“Undoubtedly. Let’s get them back in here and start going over shipping needs. The fish are pouring in from the boats and we’re going to have to get more barrels and crates to hold them. I’d like another five hundred of the stasis crates as well, we should have planned ahead for this just in case.”
The two men, two of the most influential men in the city began studying the piles of documents that detailed the lifeblood of the city of Larkson, the fishing harvest and its dissemination.
Jan 26
Not again...
“I see unsuccessful you have been.” spoke a voice that was filled with guttural rasping. Image the sounds a person might make if they’d screamed for so long they were choking on their own blood, flesh ripped from the throat, vocal cords pulled so tightly they threatened to break with another sound, this might then be a pale imitation of this voice. The words spoken were in a ancient tongue full of harsh consonants and harmonics, living flesh cringing at the noise.
“The wardings of that accursed place hold true still. They sap my powers more than imagined I.” A second voice was definitely feminine, a caressing shiver of a voice that spoke of silk and whispers and promises of shadows and touch.
The first figure shrugged with a sinuous wave of its body, “I do not know stay shall I. My freedom is enjoyable.” The figure gestured idly and nearby a man dressed in the uniform of the Larkson Watch drew a knife across his throat, the cut joining many many others on his body. As the last of his life’s blood fountained as a scarlet ribbon in the air he slumped to the ground. Only to rise moments later, dead eyes focused on its master.
The feminine voice changed in a flicker turning into a thing of razors and pain, “Mine husband you shall see free or your usefulness is at an end, know this Phy’el Fleshwalker.”
The corpse white skin of the first split open as the second’s words played over it, bloodless flesh gaping open. With no sign of pain upon its face it smiled slightly and nodded, “An it pleases you my queen.”
The voice, once again silken caresses, “Keep up the pressure on the wards. Use the humans as you can to subvert them. The Accursed One’s guardians seek to undo our release and attend to them I need.” Wings of green fire erupted from the second’s back and the body elongated. The grass for yards around wisped into ash as it rose into the air with a lazy beat of her wings. Hovering for a moment the solid black eyes looked down at him, “And use your command over the dead and flesh to recover Krag’s animus and restore him. I do not wish my beloved to be deprived of his personal guard.”
Phy’el turned his head to follow the figure, using the heat of it to track it while the eyes of his head, boiled and burst in the first instants of the wings coming out and caressing his body, slowly regenerated. “Some day my queen. Some day…”
Ranks of motionless figures jerked in unison minutes later as a single cry of raw anger and rage ripped through the air. With a crook of his finger he summoned one of them to him.
“I hear you’re asking for Shuk.” Dra’kin started as a voice spoke behind him, the staff of wood he was carving slipping out of his hand and rolling across the worktable. He turned to see one of Shuk’s halflings, Keri he was almost sure.
“Yes, I wanted to check on her, it’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen her and I wanted to make sure she’s all right.”
“That’s why she has me. Me and Meri. To make sure she’s alright. She went up stream with Meri to Forge.”
“Oh? Why?” Dra’kin gestured to a nearby chair and sat on the edge of his bed.
Keri shook her head, “Guild business. I’m sure you understand.”
“When’s she coming back?”
“Guild business.” the halfling thief replied.
“Uh, okay. When she gets back could you tell her I’d like to see her.”
“I’ll give her the message.”
“Great. Are you hungry? My treat. The council came through with a little gold to thank us for our ‘efforts’ in looking into the murders and for driving the creature out of the temple.”
She shook her head, “No thanks, I’ve got to look into some things. You can’t give people a chance to get momentum or your place in the order of things becomes at risk.”
There was a tap on the door and moments later it opened revealing Torel standing there, “Hey we’re going to go over to… Well hey there. Meri? Keri?”
“Keri. Meri’s with Shuk who’s…” Dra’kin paused as Keri shook her head slightly, “…busy right now.”
“Mi’lady Keri would you care to join us for the evening meal?” Torel asked with a slight bow.
“Thanks but no, I must be off.” she replied.
“Perhaps next time then.”
“Maybe. Later Dra’kin.” Keri said, flashing him a look, a warning in it. Torel stood aside to let her leave, coming further into the room.
“So what about you? Hungry?”
“Sure, let me get my pouch.”
“So what’s up with Shuk?”
Dra’kin grimaced, “Guild business. Don’t think I’m supposed to talk about it.”
Torel shrugged “Okay, just being polite. We’re going to try some place that Stak found down on the docks. Swears they have a fish stew to die for. Personally I think it’s not the stew but the person bringing it that he thinks is to die for.”
Dra’kin rolled his eyes, “Okay I guess. But if there’s another gods damned drunken brawl this is the last time I’m letting any of you pick a place to eat.”
Torel protested, “Hey those were all Biminey’s fault! Him and that damn hand of his trying to steal drinks from drunks.”
“I’m just saying, your fault, my fault, nobody’s fault. I have to jump through another window to avoid being thrown through it and I’m going to burn someone’s pubes off.” Hellfire flickered to life on the finger he was pointing at Torel. A sympathetic light pulsed in red crystal in a silver mount on his worktable casting a red glow onto the room.
Torel held his hands up with an innocent look, “Hey hey watch that thing!”
Dra’kin closed his fingers into a fist, the action causing the flames to go out, “Just remember what I said. Now let’s go I’m hungry enough to eat even bad food now.”
Torel clapped him on the shoulder, then pulling his hand back as Dra’kin stopped to look at it. “Right right, the warlock that walks alone. Come one.”
Dra’kin’s eyes narrowed as the avenger of Kord walked ahead of him, a thoughtful look on his face for a moment before clearing.
In the shadows across the street two figures stirred, one stepping out to follow the warlock and avenger down the street, the other slipping away down an alley.
Image Credits
Jan 12
Night Sky
Interlude – At Sea
The sound of sobbing drew him to the bow of the boat. THe moon’s light was dim, hidden behind clouds. Thank the gods that they were normal clouds, not the swirling banks of dark grey clouds lit from within by green flaring lights that they’d left behind at the ancient city of Darkmith.
Tucked into shadow behind two bales of fishing net, Torel found the girl sitting on the gunwhale, feet up on a bale and clutched to her chest. She was rocking back and forth crying quietly. If the seas had been any rougher than the millpond it was currently he feared she’d have gone over the edge long ago.
Slowly he eased up to sit next to her, keeping just enough space between them to be able to grab her if she went too far back. “Hey,” he spoke softly, gently,”how’s it going?”
The girl’s muffled voice came softly from where it was buried between her knees. “I don’t want to die. Things keep happening to me and I think I’m going to die and then other things happen and suddenly I’m not and I’m just so tired of it. I’ve got this… thing inside me, I saw what it did, I don’t want to …” Her tear covered face looked up at him and she reached out to grab his arm in a grip that would leave a ring of bruises around his forearm. “Swear to me, swear on your life, on everything you hold dear in this world and the next that if this thing in me…if something happens…swear that you’ll end the pain.”
Torel didn’t, couldn’t look away from the fierceness of the girl’s gaze and found himself nodding, “Aye, Soozin. This I swear on my life and my faith, if it comes to that, I will… stop the pain.”
For several long moments the girl was silent, eyes gazing into those of the holy warrior of Kord then she nodded and said simply, “Thank you.”
He moved closer, then hesitantly put an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and he held her, offering what comfort he could.
They sat in silence that way, the salt taste of the water in the air, the gentle breezes from the south, warm and comforting blowing across the ship with the snap of the sails and the creak of rope and pulleys adding their own melody to the night. Her tears like small raindrops rolling over his forearm.
Then the girl began to speak, voice calm as she watched the water flow past. Telling him of her life, of growing up the daughter of a seamtress, her father lost at sea. Of her hopes at the spring festival of finding someone, of her home and her brother, lost in Darkmith. Of Torn’s caring for her and their plans for the future.
“You said Torn was hurt but that the temple priests were going to fix him. Was that the truth?”
Torel sighed heavily, “As far as I know little one. The temple has vast stores of knowledge and they seemed hopeful they would be able to find a way to heal him. His brain was hurt during the attack and that’s the part they aren’t sure about. I’ve seen those who’ve been damaged in such a fashion and I’ve seen them lay in a deep sleep for weeks and then come out of it.”
“And sometimes they don’t.”
“Aye, sometimes.”
“Thank you for the truth on that.”
“We’ll do everything we can for him, I hope you know the truth in that as well. It’s only another two days and we should be home. Gods willing he’ll be up and around and waiting for you.”
“The gods will as they will. Damned be them all.” she said bitterly looking up at the skies. “By all… what is that?” she whispered.
His eyes turned up as she gasped. A shadow was crossing through clouds overhead, outlined in green fire, the outline was that of a man but with abnormally long legs and arms and giant tattered shadow wings that beat the clouds into a frenzy at its passing. Fragments of green fire dripped from those wings like water splattering into a rain puddle and each drop burned a section of the clouds away. It soared without sound, significantly faster than the ship could sail, moving in a weaving graceful pattern, leaving wispy burned away clouds in its wake.Â
Rooted to the spot they watched it, unable to look away as it sailed far ahead of the ship and then with a swirling loop it turned inland and vanished in the distance.
A deep terror filled the girl’s eyes as they shook off the spell. “Do you…?”
Torel shook his head slowly, “No. But I fear by all that I know that this does bodes dreadful ill for the future. I fear those meddling fools may have doomed us all with what they’ve unleashed.”
He stood, helping the girl to her feet, “Come we must tell the others of this.”
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Jan 06
Familiar's Eye view of the temple
Interlude – Temple of Artificers
Biminey looked up, cocking his head. The sound came again, the voice of one of Torel calling from outside the complex. He put down the scroll he was reading and removed the glasses. Rubbing his forehead he waited for the headache to go away making yet another mental note to work on the plan for the translation goggles, one that wouldn’t leave him feeling like a foot long spike was being shoved through his head each time he took them off after using them for more than a few minutes.
But without them the scrolls would be nothing more than scribbles and strange alphabets. He tossed the scroll into his pack where it joined a growing selection. The ancient outbuildings of the temple of artificers had proven to be a wealth of information of curious natures of his craft. Reluctantly he’d marked several an collected them but had no plans for taking them. There was only so much space in his pack after all.
Head only pounding now rather than splitting he went outside, grabbing a silvered spear he’d found next to a jumble of parts that had once been one of the spear constructs. Night had fallen while he was reading and the moon shone down giving the courtyard a silvery blue tint.  He headed to the gate, his feet making soft noises on the heavy stone tiles filling the inside of the temple walls.
“What? I didn’t catch that?” he yelled over the wall.
Torel’s voice came back, “Just checking on you, we’ve found a good place to set up, it’s about 50 yards south, southwest of the gate. Some walls are still standing and give us some concealment but we can still keep an eye on the gate.”
“Great, I’ll find a place in here to get some rest and keep at it! There’s a lot of information here to go through but I’ve found a building that holds a lot of rituals and knowledge that seems to be specifically with the air ships!”
“Fantastic! Okay scream if you run into a problem and we’ll stand here and mourn you appropriately.”
“What a friend you are!” Biminey called back laughing.
“Get to work! It’s cold out here! And there are dark priests!”
“Riiiiight!”
The artificer went back in, the building he was currently rummaging through looked very promising as many of the scrolls held illustrations of various ships and ship components. With a sigh at the upcoming pain, he slipped the glasses back on and continued his search. The hours came and went as he scanned scroll after scroll, the building headache looming larger and larger.
Finally he found it, a set of scrolls outlining how to make field repairs to elemental ships and another set that outlined the control mechanisms. He scooped them all up, hugging them to his chest before storing them carefully into his pack, pulling out several of the others that he’d collected to make room.
Even tensing in anticipation did nothing to prepare him for the shattering white pain that ripped through his head as he removed the glasses and he was literally driven to his knees by the pain. As darkness took him, he though, “Perhaps I won’t wear them so long next time.”
Sun was shining through the windows as he woke up, groggy and disoriented and for a few moments unaware of where he was. Panic set in momentarily before the memories came crashing back.  His head was pounding still and it was the work of several minutes before he was able to climb to his feet. And several minutes longer before he realized that the sun was slanting in from the wrong direction. It was almost evening again with morning come and gone.
“Biminey!? HEY!!!” called an urgent voice from outside.
He stumbled out, pausing to lean against the door frame. It took a couple of tries before his voice worked and then he replied, “I’m okay!”
“Baphomat wept! For the gods sake man, we’ve been calling all day! Dra’kin lost his little eye familiar trying to see inside and we didn’t know if you were alive or dead!” It was Elisssa’s voice that came back.
“I’m alive! Mostly! Over did it a little and… never mind! I’m okay!”
“Don’t worry us like that! Did you find anything!?”
“Right, found something.” He remembered now what he’d been reading right before he’d dropped and his eyes widened, “Found something?! I found EXACTLY what we needed! Let me collect my stuff and I’ll figure out a way to get out of here.”
Gear in hand he headed toward the gate, a panel on the wall inside that he’d seen earlier glowed with a soft pale light much like the light of the crystalline windows of the tower on the island, the gleaming controls of the air ship and the crystal plaque near the tomb of Larkson. At his command his familiar emerged from from a pouch at his waist and he picked it up and placed it on the panel. The massive gate slowly began to shift open and he walked through it.
His friends stood just out of range of the guardian bolters atop the walls and waited for him. Biminey held up his pack, “Got what we need, well I know what we need to do and where we need to find it.”
“Great, where to?”
“First I need to make you some passes that will get you into the grounds. I found the ritual on how to make a amulet that will get you into the grounds without triggering the defense systems.”
Dra’kin spoke slowly, “And why do we need to get into the temple?”
“Because we’re going to raid the vaults under it of course.”
“Raid the vaults… say that again?”
“I found scrolls that tell me how to repair the damage done to the ship at least enough to get it moving again. For that I’m going to need residium. An ass load of residium. And I’m betting we can find it in the residium vaults under the temple. We’re also going to need an override amulet of control. These are also stored for safekeeping in the vaults under the temple.”
“What’s that do?” Stak asked.
“With that I’ll be able to direct the elementals powering the airship and we’ll be able to fly that bad boy anywhere we want. We’ll be gods damned kings of the world with that thing under our control.”
“Riiiiight…” Torel said rolling his eyes. “Until someone steals it.”
“Or sets it on fire with arrows.” Elisssa chimed in.
“Or he crashes it into a tower.” Stak added.
“Or a….” Dra’kin started to say.
“Enough! I get the point.” Biminey int erupted wryly.
Elisssa snorted, “Someone has to keep you down to earth. So we just waltz down to the vaults, grab what we need and we’re off to save our ship. The ship we don’t know where it is?”
“Exactly. Well maybe not quite that… easily.”
Torel sighed, “So what are we looking at?”
“The amulets I can make should get…”
“Should?!” Dra’kin sputtered.
Biminey continued on, “should get you all onto the grounds and into the main temple. In there we’ll find an entrance that leads down to the vault. I should…”
“There’s that word again…And by the way I need a new eye construct.”
“I should be able to get us through that door without a problem.”
Stak asked, “But?”
“The vaults probably have a few safe guards on them. You know to keep people from doing what we’re wanting to do. On the plus side, the place is falling apart. There are bits and pieces of constructs laying all over the place where they just gave out. The nine spearmen that came out? Those are probably the last working ones. I got this spear from a pile of parts just inside the door.”
Torel held up a hand and started checking off fingers, “So, just to sum up, you get us into the temple maybe. We find the entrance to these vaults. We fight our way past guardians, traps and whatever else they might throw on the pile. That may or may not be working. We break into the vaults. Damn ran out of fingers. Steal the temple’s loot. Figure out where our ship is. Go get it from whoever took it. Fix it. And then you pilot us out home again. Where the city council is probably dying to try and take it away from us not to mention everyone else with a sword and a desire for the power such a ship would give them.”
Biminey grinned, “Yep, that about covers it. So. Are you in?”
Torel grinned back, “Of course.”
Image Credits
Dec 28
Interlude – Elisssa
“You smell that? Â What’s that remind you of? Â Smells like… snake.” a harsh voice cut through the evening air.
“Hells no Marti, it’s something with scales alright but I’d say it’s more like dead rottin’ fish.” a sardonic voice replied loudly.
Elisssa shook her head slightly. On the whole living in Larkson was enjoyable but of late the Bain followers seemed to be getting more overt about their humanistic beliefs.
“Oh yeah Jakia, fish might be right. Something smells fishier than an unwashed doxie’s crotch.”
Elisssa snapped over her shoulder without slowing, “Don’t badmouth your birthplace, you’ll make your mom cry.”
There was a startled silence and then, “What the fuck?! Â What did you say?”
Elisssa sighed, turning as she heard footsteps hurrying toward her. Â Two humans were moving toward her from the mouth of an alley. Â The one in front of medium build, hair tied back with dirty blue rag, the other one stockier with broad muscled shoulders. Â Thugs the both of them was her first impression.
“Snake bitch you want to be repeating that? Â I don’t think I heard you right.”
The stockier one spoke, “Marti, I done think she called your mom a whore.”
The other thug snapped his hand sideways and a iron club grew out of it, fashioned of linked steel piping. “Whore she may have been but she was human and no fuckin’ snake bad mouths a human.”
Jakia’s hands disappeared into his tunic coming back into sight with small metal cylinders that snapped open with a jerk of his hands into twin clubs. “Snake gotta know it’s place Marti and that’s down in the dirt on it’s belly. Â You want to get yourself down and apologize now snake bitch and we might let you walk away in one piece.”
Elisssa heaved a deep sigh, sending a mental plea to her goddess, the mother of her race for the strength to not kill the fools in front her. Â She eyed the approaching men, slowly counting to five to calm the heat that roiled just below her surface. Â ”We can do this hard or easy. Â Easy is we both go our separate ways now, no harm no foul.”
“Oh I think you like it hard there snake bitch. Â How’s about we give you the hard way.” Jakai leered, holding one of the clubs suggestively at his crotch. Â ”This ain’t nothing to what I got for you.”
Elisssa felt her thoughts bubble toward rage and opened her mouth, lightnings playing off her teeth as her inner energies began to race. Â With a new found trick she snapped her own hand out and there was a sound of ripping leather ties as Rock Crusher leapt into her hand, the red runes on the flawless black iron maul’s head glowing with a dim light.
“You sure you want hard fuck face?” she snapped, lighting arcing from her teeth onto the maul. Â ”You really really don’t want to fucking push me….”
The two thugs faces tightened and they started to spread apart in the street when a voice, tone casual, almost bored spoke, “Hey girl, who are your friends?”
All three of them glanced sideways to see another human coming out of a doorway, dressed in the red trimmed chain and leather of the city watch, the hilts of two swords rising up behind his shoulders and a long bladed knife on each hip. Â He leaned against the door frame, cold green eyes boring into those of the two men. His arms were scarred with the reminders of over thirty fights in the pits and a jagged slash rand down his face. Â The savage scarring detracting little from his otherwise good looks.
“Hey Torn, I see that the watch took you in.” Elisssa said, after the first glance she’d returned her gaze back to the men.
“Yeah, wasn’t hard, Hells if you defeat all their trainers in one go, they even make you a officer and put you in charge of shit.”
“You sidin’ with the snake?” Marti spat out.
Torn stepped forward, with a blurred motion and rasp of metal on metal he held a short sword in each hand. Â The one in the right of arctic blued steel, the razor-ed edge crackling with lightnings identical to those dancing over the great maul in Elisssa’s hands.
“No, I’m siding with my friend. Â Now get the hells out here before I have to call a corpse cart. Â I hate the paperwork and reports I have to give when I have to do that. Just the thought of it really pisses me off.”
The two men glanced at each other then glared at the dragonborn and the veteran pitfighter. “We’re going. The stink here is about to make me vomit anyway.” Marti growled out. Â He jabbed a club at Elisssa, “Just a little advice snake, mind your manners next time a human talks to you. There’s bad things other than snakes sometimes in the dark, you might just run into them.”
The two men turned and stalked away, Elisssa and Torn watching them go.
“What was that about?” Torn asked, sheathing his swords in a smooth crisscrossing of his arms.
Elisssa shrugged, “Bain followers I think.”
“Bain?”
“Pissy little god that thinks humans should rule the world and everyone else should be dead, pets or unpaid help.”
“And here I thought you had such a nice little town.”
Elisssa snorted, the remnants of lightning flaring out to light the minuscule blue tinted scales of her face, “They’re nothing, just some lowlives that need someone to blame for their shit.”
“Seemed rather more than nothing.”
“Nothing to worry about, all talk, they’d of threatened, I’d of warned them off and life would have gone on. Â How’s Soozin?”
“Don’t think I don’t know you’re changing the subject El. Â She’s fine, I got her a little room over on the east side of town, as a watch leader I get a house allowance and the gold that Torel loaned me she’s not going to need to work for awhile and I’ll start getting a pay sack in a week or two.”
“And how are the two of you doing?” Â Elisssa chuckled as a rose of color bloomed on the fighter’s cheeks.
“Wha…what do you mean?”
She reached out and clasped his shoulder, “I may have scales and breath lightning balls dear friend but once you get past that I’m still a woman. Â I see the way she looks at you and you her.”
Torn grinned, “I guess we’re going okay. Â I was going to wait till you guys get back from that job you’re doing for the Council but I might as well tell you now . We’re going to have a binding ceremony next month after I get a little more gold saved up and I want you all to stand Witness for us.”
“I’d be honored Torn.” she replied leaning forward to brush his cheek with a kiss and give him a hug. “And the others will too or they’ll answer to me.”
“Such a fierce one you are Elisssa!”
Elisssa’s belling peel of laughter rang out through the darkening street, “Come and we’ll tell them now, we’re meeting now at our inn to discuss our trip.”
“I cannot,duty calls El. But look me up when you get back and we’ll make arrangements.”
“The gods themselves couldn’t stop me. Â I’ll see you in a few days friend. Â Take care of the little one.”
“With my life, El, with my life and more.”
With a final clasp of forearms they split up, the dragonborn warden heading north to meet with her companions…
Dragonborn with Maul
Interlude – Elisssa
“You smell that? Â What’s that remind you of? Â Smells like… snake.” a harsh voice cut through the evening air.
“Hells no Marti, it’s something with scales alright but I’d say it’s more like dead rottin’ fish.” a sardonic voice replied loudly.
Elisssa shook her head slightly. On the whole living in Larkson was enjoyable but of late the Bain followers seemed to be getting more overt about their humanistic beliefs.
“Oh yeah Jakia, fish might be right. Something smells fishier than an unwashed doxie’s crotch.”
Elisssa snapped over her shoulder without slowing, “Don’t badmouth your birthplace, you’ll make your mom cry.”
There was a startled silence and then, “What the fuck?! Â What did you say?”
Elisssa sighed, turning as she heard footsteps hurrying toward her. Â Two humans were moving toward her from the mouth of an alley. Â The one in front of medium build, hair tied back with dirty blue rag, the other one stockier with broad muscled shoulders. Â Thugs the both of them was her first impression.
“Snake bitch you want to be repeating that? Â I don’t think I heard you right.”
The stockier one spoke, “Marti, I done think she called your mom a whore.”
The other thug snapped his hand sideways and a iron club grew out of it, fashioned of linked steel piping. “Whore she may have been but she was human and no fuckin’ snake bad mouths a human.”
Jakia’s hands disappeared into his tunic coming back into sight with small metal cylinders that snapped open with a jerk of his hands into twin clubs. “Snake gotta know it’s place Marti and that’s down in the dirt on it’s belly. Â You want to get yourself down and apologize now snake bitch and we might let you walk away in one piece.”
Elisssa heaved a deep sigh, sending a mental plea to her goddess, the mother of her race for the strength to not kill the fools in front her. Â She eyed the approaching men, slowly counting to five to calm the heat that roiled just below her surface. Â ”We can do this hard or easy. Â Easy is we both go our separate ways now, no harm no foul.”
“Oh I think you like it hard there snake bitch. Â How’s about we give you the hard way.” Jakai leered, holding one of the clubs suggestively at his crotch. Â ”This ain’t nothing to what I got for you.”
Elisssa felt her thoughts bubble toward rage and opened her mouth, lightnings playing off her teeth as her inner energies began to race. Â With a new found trick she snapped her own hand out and there was a sound of ripping leather ties as Rock Crusher leapt into her hand, the red runes on the flawless black iron maul’s head glowing with a dim light.
“You sure you want hard fuck face?” she snapped, lighting arcing from her teeth onto the maul. Â ”You really really don’t want to fucking push me….”
The two thugs faces tightened and they started to spread apart in the street when a voice, tone casual, almost bored spoke, “Hey girl, who are your friends?”
All three of them glanced sideways to see another human coming out of a doorway, dressed in the red trimmed chain and leather of the city watch, the hilts of two swords rising up behind his shoulders and a long bladed knife on each hip. Â He leaned against the door frame, cold green eyes boring into those of the two men. His arms were scarred with the reminders of over thirty fights in the pits and a jagged slash rand down his face. Â The savage scarring detracting little from his otherwise good looks.
“Hey Torn, I see that the watch took you in.” Elisssa said, after the first glance she’d returned her gaze back to the men.
“Yeah, wasn’t hard, Hells if you defeat all their trainers in one go, they even make you a officer and put you in charge of shit.”
“You sidin’ with the snake?” Marti spat out.
Torn stepped forward, with a blurred motion and rasp of metal on metal he held a short sword in each hand. Â The one in the right of arctic blued steel, the razor-ed edge crackling with lightnings identical to those dancing over the great maul in Elisssa’s hands.
“No, I’m siding with my friend. Â Now get the hells out here before I have to call a corpse cart. Â I hate the paperwork and reports I have to give when I have to do that. Just the thought of it really pisses me off.”
The two men glanced at each other then glared at the dragonborn and the veteran pitfighter. “We’re going. The stink here is about to make me vomit anyway.” Marti growled out. Â He jabbed a club at Elisssa, “Just a little advice snake, mind your manners next time a human talks to you. There’s bad things other than snakes sometimes in the dark, you might just run into them.”
The two men turned and stalked away, Elisssa and Torn watching them go.
“What was that about?” Torn asked, sheathing his swords in a smooth crisscrossing of his arms.
Elisssa shrugged, “Bain followers I think.”
“Bain?”
“Pissy little god that thinks humans should rule the world and everyone else should be dead, pets or unpaid help.”
“And here I thought you had such a nice little town.”
Elisssa snorted, the remnants of lightning flaring out to light the minuscule blue tinted scales of her face, “They’re nothing, just some lowlives that need someone to blame for their shit.”
“Seemed rather more than nothing.”
“Nothing to worry about, all talk, they’d of threatened, I’d of warned them off and life would have gone on. Â How’s Soozin?”
“Don’t think I don’t know you’re changing the subject El. Â She’s fine, I got her a little room over on the east side of town, as a watch leader I get a house allowance and the gold that Torel loaned me she’s not going to need to work for awhile and I’ll start getting a pay sack in a week or two.”
“And how are the two of you doing?” Â Elisssa chuckled as a rose of color bloomed on the fighter’s cheeks.
“Wha…what do you mean?”
She reached out and clasped his shoulder, “I may have scales and breath lightning balls dear friend but once you get past that I’m still a woman. Â I see the way she looks at you and you her.”
Torn grinned, “I guess we’re going okay. Â I was going to wait till you guys get back from that job you’re doing for the Council but I might as well tell you now . We’re going to have a binding ceremony next month after I get a little more gold saved up and I want you all to stand Witness for us.”
“I’d be honored Torn.” she replied leaning forward to brush his cheek with a kiss and give him a hug. “And the others will too or they’ll answer to me.”
“Such a fierce one you are Elisssa!”
Elisssa’s belling peel of laughter rang out through the darkening street, “Come and we’ll tell them now, we’re meeting now at our inn to discuss our trip.”
“I cannot,duty calls El. But look me up when you get back and we’ll make arrangements.”
“The gods themselves couldn’t stop me. Â I’ll see you in a few days friend. Â Take care of the little one.”
“With my life, El, with my life and more.”
With a final clasp of forearms they split up, the dragonborn warden heading north to meet with her companions…
Image Credits
Dec 25
Keri, or is it Meri?
Interlude – Dra’kin
Dra’kin leaned back on the lavender scented down pillow, the better to enjoy the view as his lover, Shuk continued stretching her body into positions that looked impossible for her. Born of human and orc she favored her human half more but still dense thick muscles covered her lithe frame, the skin a polished white jade rippling and flexing as the woman moved slowly and smoothly through a series of stretches and slow motion maneuvers.
Shuk paused, body frozen in place and she glanced through the strands of her brown hair, glinting with green highlights. “Love, best tell your familiar to stop staring at me or you’re going to need to get another one.” The wicked looking dagger in left hand spun around her fingers sending sparkles of red light through the air in counterpoint to her threat.
Dra’kin, eyes rolling, exerted his will upon the hovering eye in the corner of the room sending it zooming down to disappear into his carefully folded clothing. “You know it’s just attracted by the motion Shukie.”
“Don’t care dear, I don’t like things staring at me when I work out.”
“So I should close my eyes?”
Body folded down her head turned to look at him from roughly around her knee, the position showing off her curves to excellent advantage. A slow smile spread, her elongated canines gradually showing, “Not if it has that reaction that I see it has. Or is that your knee under the sheet.” she said with smirk. She unfolded with a sinuous snap and somehow ended up on the bed standing over him. “Now then… Let’s see if we can’t find another way to pass the time…”
Sometime later, the warlock was dozing and only partially registered the sound of someone clearing their throat.  The impact of the floor as he was violently shoved sideways out of the bed though woke him up quite effectively.  Naked he rolled sideways, hellfire blooming on his hands to end in a crouch in the corner of the room. The flickering red glow highlighted the innocent face of Keri, one of Shuk’s lieutenants, one of a pair, twin halfings. On the far side of the bed, Shuk slowly rose from a crouch, a long jagged edge blade in one hand, the red flecked bade of Ravager in the other.
Keri whistled appreciatively as she glanced between them, “I see that what they say about the size of a warlock’s staff is true.”
Dra’kin stood, letting the flames flicker and die, “I don’t use a staff.”
“Exactly. You don’t have anything to compensate for obviously.”
“Keri, I thought we talked about this?”
The halfling pasted a contrite look on her face. “I know ‘mom’ but you had that new lock and warding put on your door and you know I can’t resist a challenge.”
Shuk sighed, “Obviously I was grossly overcharged, I should have been warned someone was trying to bypass the protections at the very least.”
Kery grinned, “Oh you got your money’s worth cutie. I wouldn’t worry about it. There aren’t many, alright, any as good as me at getting past wards don’t want me to.”
“What are you doing here Keri? Anything wrong?”
“Your boytoy asked me to get some information for him, I have it.”
Dra’kin spoke, his voice muffled briefly by the tunic he was pulling over his head, “I said bring it by this evening at the tavern.” He sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots.
“Hate to break it to you hottie but it’s evening now. You must of really been working overtime. Did you do that thing I told you about, where you put your…” Keri dropped to the floor as a throwing spike whiffed through the air where her head had been moments before.
“That’s enough Keri.” Shuk said calmly replacing the spike in the strap on her forearm with another from a box on the dresser by the bed.
“You never complained when I did…” Keri’s voice trailed off as the golden green eyes of her boss caught her’s. Shuk had her scary face on, eyes and face calm and showing no emotion what so ever. The same face she wore as she persuaded someone slow to pay their loan that prompt payment left everyone happy. The same face she wore as she took a lead weighted club to someone who thought they could refuse to pay their loans. And the little rogue was sure it was the same face she’d worn as she gutted the man who’d held her job at one time and thought he and his seconds could take advantage of the young half orc female newly joined to the night guild.
Dra’kin stepped over and kissed the most deadly woman in town on the neck, “See you later Shuk, I need to catch up with friends.” He ran a hand down her jaw in a caress and with a thought his familiar settled down on his shoulder, the dangling wires from the mechanical construct that Biminey had constructed for him wrapping around his neck like some odd necklace or collar.
“Later cutie, I’ll see you later then.” Keri said with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows.
As the door closed on Dra’kin, the corner’s of Shuk’s mouth twitched and she couldn’t help but smile, the cheerfulness of the haling infectious. It was one of the reasons they’d shared a bed for awhile when Shuk was feeling the pressure of her step up from apprentice to leader of the guild. She shook her head as Keri bounced up on the bed. “So what did you find out about the ship?”
Keri grimaced, “Not much. Gonna need Meri on this one. I can take care of the wards but the watchers are good, you’ll need spookie to get in there see what’s going on.”
“Okay, make arrangements with Tork on the docks to give you a distraction if you need it to get her on board. I want to know if they’re hauling the gold that rumor has it. And if she can find out their home port or a chart book, that might be useful for something.”
“I hear your man is heading upstream after the ones taking the gold shipments?
“He’s not my man love, just a distraction.”
Keri rolled her eyes, “Riiiight. So since you’re not stopping him I can guess you’re not behind those thefts.”
Shuk frowned, “Was that ever a question?”
“You never know with you hon. You keep them close to that bountiful chest of yours sometimes.”
“Not this time. Personally I think it’s the buyers out east. They get the cargo and the payment. None of our concern at the very least. Okay get with your sister and work out a time to visit the ship. Yes I know she’s already working nights for that friend of Drak’s, work something out.”
Keri saluted her boss, a satire of the watch’s salute ending with her hand cupping her own breast and shaking it, “At your command!”
“Whatever. I also need you to have Pip pay a visit to the rug merchant and remind him he’s past due. Nothing painful, just a threat of painful is fine. I might want to take payment in goods later once he’s really worried. I also need you to have…”
For the next hour talk was of business, the business of shadows and night before the two of them headed toward the tavern where their friends were talking…
1 person likes this post.
Dec 23
Tavern
Interlude Stak –
He’d been sitting in the dockside bar for an hour now, listening to the talk, occasionally trying to nudge the conversation around him with a discrete question or a raised eyebrow. The ale was bad, green as hell but better than the water the gods knew. A loud clang drew his attention as the barmaid slammed her drink tray up against a drunk’s head and he used the distraction to swap his three quarter full mug with his neighbor’s empty one.
Stak signaled the serving girl, pointing at his mug. She nodded, a world weary smile pasted to her face that didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. Shorter than average, probably topping little over five foot tall, she was well proportioned although slight. But apparently that didn’t keep her from packing a hell of a wallop as the tavern’s thug grabbed the unconscious drunk by the hair and started hauling him toward the door.
A scrap of conversation caught his attention, “…bugger all gold on that ship I hear tell. And them sailors of theirs, never seen such a hard assed crew. You don’t hire a crew like that you ain’t hauling a assload of gold and you know it Sammi.”
Stak dropped a silver on the girl’s tray as she set down another full tankard of bad ale. For an instant a smile crinkled the corner’s of her eyes and she bowed in thanks before whisking away to fill another order. She glanced back at the wolfkin born ranger with an appreciative eye, making note to make sure his mug was full in case there were any other silver offerings.
At the next table, two older peasants, probably fishermen judging by the leathery skin and sun bleached hair and the out-sized knuckles on their hands although he noted hard callus on one was missing a leg from the knee down, callus you only got from wielding a blade. The other’s right arm hung bound in a sling. Casualties of a sea that life that didn’t treat kindly with those that dared it’s surface.
He picked up his mug and eased over to their table, “Afternoon gents, buy you a round? It’s a holy day for me, I made some extra silver and my god requires me to tithe by spreading it around.”
The two men eyed the ranger standing by their table, then the legless one shrugged, “No skin of my nose stranger. And if you’re buying why I reckon that gives you leave to sit as you like. Sammi, what do you think?”
The other one, showing a touch of shifter himself, nodded slowly, “Well Lonni, kinda hard to turn down free booze. Sit stranger.”
Stak took a seat, turning to see the serving girl watching him. He gestured at the other’s mugs and pointed to himself. A flash of a smile and she headed to the bar.
“So what tell god of this is yours that you have to waste your good money on the likes of us? Ain’t never heard tell of such.” Sammi asked.
“Family god neighbors, not good for much to be honest but he does sometimes pull out a minor miracle and it’s a miracle I’m alive and sitting here so I figure, why risk it, pay homage to the little shit and maybe I’ll keep on keeping on.”
“Need to watch that kind of talk friend. Gods is listening all the time. Figure that’s how I lost me leg, too drunk to remember to make an offering last year before we went out and first day, rope snagged me leg, cinched down and clean ripped it off, taking it over the side. Captain, he saw no point in coming back in, leg was lost so they just doused it in a healing salve to clean the cut up and we stayed out. Docked my pay 25 gold for it, left the ship 4 gold and half a leg lighter than I left with.”
“Last time I heard this story that there leg of yours it was fighting off three reavers in the rigging and single-handedly saving the ship.” the serving girl said as she set down a pitcher of ale.   “You sure you wanna be buying these here lot ale?” She leaned one hand down on the table, ostensibly to give the table top a wipe with a rag while giving the ranger a magnificent view of her small, firm breasts in the low cut leather tunic. “A person might find summat else to be spending their money on is all I’m saying.”
Stak rolled two silvers over the table where she adroitly swept them up without looking down. “Something else like…?”
She grinned, her otherwise plain face lighting up rendering it pretty, “I’m just sayin. Come by toward high moon when we kick this lot out and send them home to disappoint their wives and mayhaps we might discuss it more private and proper like.”
A smile of appreciation curved Stak’s lips, “Perhaps I shall at that.”
Sammi chuckled as all three men watched the girl walk away, enjoying the view. “See what I mean stranger? You buy us ale to repay your god, your god repays you with that. Karissa she don’t cotton to many.”
The elderly fisherman’s voice turned hard of a sudden and from somewhere a large bladed gutting knife had appeared in his right hand. Eying his fingernails he started trimming one with the razor honed edge, then looked up, hard eyes gone flat, boring into Stak’s. “She’s a good girl. Lost her mam in childbirth, her da to reavers when she was just hittin’ marrying age and left her an orphan with no dowry. Fisherfolk look after each other but it’s hard times and she’s an independent cuss so she took to workin’ here. Some of us, well, we’d get a little put out she was to come into trouble or harm.”
Stak’s left hand, held below the table since he’d sat down twitched as Sammi made the knife disappear.
“Just a friendly warning, stranger.” Lonni spoke up, pouring his glass full from the pitcher. “Man sees storm clouds in the distance, only fair he let people know they may be in for rough water.”
“I see…” Stak replied, taking a sip of the awful brew in his cup. “Appreciate the warning then but you can rest easy. I don’t take what’s not freely given and I return it in better shape than I got it.”
Sammi smiled a tight little smile, “Then we should have no problems, me and you. Here, toss that whale piss out and fill it up with this. Now why don’t you ask us what ever it is you wanted to ask, we’re drinking your beer, you got that coming to ya.”
Stak couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head, “Right. I’m interested in that ship in the harbor, heard you saying it was filled with gold.”
Lonni glanced at his friend, shrugged, “Just bar talk friend. You know how it goes, someone says something, someone else repeats, soon it’s the truth as far as them is concerned. You don’t appear to be stupid or suffered a recent blow to the head so hear me then, that’s not a ship you want to be getting ideas on. Filled with gold or no, that’s a crew there that you don’t wanna be fuckin’ with. That lot’ll gut ya and feed your entrails to the fish without a blink I’m thinkin’.”
“Hard looking bunch then?”
“That’s how I read’em and I’ve been around the block a few times. That lot’ll have your guts out of ya and over the gun’sel as fish food before you could blink.”
Stak took a sip of his ale, paused at the fairly palatable flavor rolled over his tongue. “Now that’s not bad at all.” he said, saluting the two men with his mug. “So the ship, unusual for a ship to have that… experienced a crew?”
Sammi shrugged, “Depends on the ship and what she’s haulin’. Dangerous waters out there friend once you leave the pale blue. Tough buys you a lot of things. This’un though, she shows up, no cargo at all, riding high the way she is. Says she’s here to haul part of our catch away and I hear tell her quartermaster been talking to Garon and his flunkies about buying fish. I also hear she don’t wanna pay what we can get it for upstream but what with the gold being stolen on the way back them that has might best figure a fish in the net is worth two in the sea.”
“The crew ever come ashore?”
“Bits and pieces of them, never more’n a handful. They come ashore, get drunk, tumble a doxy or two, go back on board. Spreadin’ tales and askin’ questions they does. Most of which I done heard a hunnert times in me life, water folk tend to go on they do about things they may have seen, or mebbe dreamt up during a long night watch to use to cage a few drinks when they come ashore.”
Lonni spoke up, “That’s cause it’s filled with gold you old fool.”
Sammi snorted, “Hush up you, or I tell Lorri how you really broke that arm.”
“Bah, I ain’t scared a her.”
“Right… shut up and drink the man’s beer.”
“What kind of stories?” the ranger asked emptying the pitcher into his mug. He looked around and caught Karissa’s eye and signaled for another.
“Usual claptrap, sea monsters bigger’n a hundred ships, islands that belch fire or move about on their own, sailing ships that float through the air like a bird.”
“Huh, flying ship you say. I’d like to see that.”
“I hear tell there’s some what sez they escaped the slaver’s and come through Darkmith spreadin’ the same tales.”
Stak noted Lonni making the two finger warding gesture of Troe at the name of the ancient city. “I guess I don’t put much stock in what I haven’t seen with my own eyes.” He dropped several silver on the table, “Here have a round or two on me elders and I thank you for your time.”
“Any time you wanna stop by and buy drinks friend, you feel free now.” Sammi said, reaching out to stack the coins in the center of the table. “Any time.”
Stak headed to the door, brushing past the petite barmaid who murmured, “So… later?”
“Aye, barring end days coming early.” Stak replied.
She nodded and continued, swirling nimbly out of the way of a stumbling peasant, heavy drink tray held effortlessly out of harm’s way.
Pushing to door open, Stak stepped on the cobblestone street and headed back to the inn he was staying at with the others to let them know what he’d found out.
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Dec 18
Hammer and Fist
Interlude Torel -
[Note I'm going with spacing to denote paragraphs rather a more typical indention due to the web's in ability to make that easy to do]
He found it odd that after only a couple of days back in town he’d gotten used to the pervasive smell of fish all over again. The smells that blanketed the town in the warm months were decidedly…pungent. When he’d first come to this town last fall before the snows made travel out impossible the smells had been faint, just a minor tickle of scent overlaid and almost overpowered by the smell of humanity living in a small space.
The advent of spring and swiftly approaching summer heat though had the fish smell ramping up. Nothing like what it would be, he’d been told, once the fishing harvests were in full swing under the heat of summer. Then it was all the casters working among the fishing fleets could do to keep the catch cold enough to keep from spoiling before it went into the barrels of brine, were packed in salt or smoked over slow fires or for the best specimens packed into the arcanic shipping crates that locked the catches freshness in a moment of time such that when they were unpacked at their destinations it would be as if they were fresh caught that very day. All at an exorbient price of course.
The street was mostly deserted now, even when the fleet wasn’t out it had never been crowded, leading as it did to the small cul-de-sac that hosted altars to those gods of few followers. Only Eris had an extravagant temple inside of town although the air temples of Merta and Troe outside of town were quite spectacular. But for the rest there were only home altars or these few spots of holy power.
As he expected from past visits, the square courtyard was empty. The small altar of his own god, Kord was in the left corner. He went to one knee in front of the slab of black stone and saluted, fist slapping into his chest. Edging forward he turned and sat, back against the stone; against the hammer and fist symbol of his faith on the front of the cube of hard granite inlaid with simple steel, kept free of blemish by the faith of its followers.
He stayed there for awhile, the warmth of fire and forge radiating through him from the stone. The majroity of the devout followers left in Larkson were blacksmiths and laborers with an occasional guard he found. Dwarves didn’t like the sea air or the sandy soil although they certainly seemed to enjoy the fish. But then he wasn’t much surprised, a town founded by archivists that was kept alive by fishing harvests would see most of the citizens worshiping either Troe, god of the seas, or Eris, god of knowledge.
At loose ends with life he wondered what he should do next and hoped for a sign from Kord although his god was notoriously bad at giving signs, respecting instead followers with the strength of mind to make their own decisions.
He’d come downriver from Craghome in pursuit of an visitor of the church that had stolen several items of minor value from the temple only to find the man reported lost at sea, the ship he’d gone out on never returning. His mission was meant more as a get out and see the world than anything punitive or because the items had any real value. With the unusually harsh winter sealing the way back he’d remained in town, living off his allowance, taking odd jobs about town to make the money last. And then he’d met Cora, a girl with flashing green eyes and an evil swivel to her hips and and had delayed his departure back upriver once and then twice to enjoy her company longer.
And then the slavers had disrupted the spring festival and now he feared he’d never see her again, she was reported lost along with so many others to the slavers’ chains.
The shadows grew longer, drawing closer to where the avenger sat, lost in thought. The evening was approaching and the sinking sun was dropping behind the buildings that surrounded the courtyard. It was almost time to go meet the others and let them know what he’d found out about the ship raids that they were considering doing something about.
He pushed himself up to his feet, taking a moment to readjust the heavy flail at his side. He hated the sound the chain made and the thin leather strap he used to secure the links tended to come undone letting it rattle. He rewove the strapping then ducked as something flew at his head. It was a bird, a large one with shiny black feathers, standing atop the altar of his god.
It cocked its head one way, then another as if sizing him up then with a curious jerk of its head it launched into the air and circled him before flapping away away.
“A fearful man might take that as an omen the Raven Queen had plans for oneself.” a voice spoke from behind him.
Torel turned to see a burly man with the large densely packed forearms and shoulders of a smith entering the courtyard. He’d seen the man before, a smith by the name of Jarid.
He grinned at the smith, “A fearful man would be a mighty poor follower of Kord, brother.”
Jarid smiled, “Fear doesn’t make one weak, nor strength make one brave. But then your still young, some things are better experienced than told.”
“You make a good point and remind me of something I did indeed already know. But as I travel with a follower of the Raven, I see the bird as an omen that our quest together is approved by both.”
The smith nodded, “Aye, that could be what it was. Or, ” he chuckled, “it could simply be the one of the thousands of the damn things flying about crapping on everything needing to rest its lice ridden feathers for a bit.”
Torel shook his head in amusement, “Perhaps, perhaps it was. I don’t wish to be rude but I must be off to meet said friend and others. Perhaps I shall see you again. If not, then I wish you well. Be strong brother.”
“Aye, and you as well.”
Torel, follower of Kord, avenging priest of the god of strength walked away with sure strides to toward the inn where he and his friends shared a room, thinking they’d be interested in what his research had found out.
Dec 17
Ancient Scrolls
Biminey’s Interlude -A knocking noise, insistent and unrelenting, woke Biminey from a sound sleep. The shaft of light beaming through the closed shutters of the tavern room denoted it was well past morning. He’d been up most of the night deciphering scrolls that Keri, the cute little halfling friend of Dra’kin’s girl had recovered for him from the hidden archives under the temple of Eris. Too many of the scrolls defied him, written in ancient sigils, none of which bore any resemblance to the the characters he’d come to associate with the ancient city of Darkmith.
“By all the gods, WHAT?!” he yelled, swinging his feet off the bed onto the rough hewn planks of the floor.
“Good, you’re there. I need to speak with you.” came a voice from the other side of the door.
Mind still a little befuddled by sleep, it took the lanky artificer a few moments to register the voice, then his eyes widened as he recognized the harsh gutturals of Merkin, one of the highest ranking priests of Eris, a wolfkin like his friend Torel. He whipped his head around, scrolls littered the small table in the room, all bearing the sign of Eris.
“Just a minute! Be right there! Hold on!” he said, louder than was truly necessary and frantically started curling the scrolls up and tossing them into the small leather backpacks that Keri had dropped them off in.
Taking a last wild look around the room he kicked the packs under the bed then went to the door. Opening it revealed the rough hewn angular features of the priest, “Yes? What?”
The priest pushed past him into the room, glancing around, seeming to note everything in the room in a glance and somehow Biminey knew he’d be able to recall the details precisely a year later. The priest turned on him, the saffron trimmed white robes swirling with the force of his movement.
‘Oh shit, busted.’ Biminey thought and started to inch toward the spear leaning next to the door, its tip made of an opalescent jagged shard of shell.
Merkin pulled the single stool out from under the table and sat. On the floor under the table, in the shadows cast by the light shining on it Biminey spotted a scroll that must have fallen and rolled up against the wall. He closed the door to the room, ending up next to the spear as if by chance.
“So, what did you say you needed?” Biminey asked, eyes flicking away from the damning scroll.
“I read your manuscript this morning. Very intriguing I must say, you have a concise way of writing that gets the point across with good detail. Have you ever considered becoming a follower of Eris? Your penmanship puts many of our journeymen scribes to shame in their neatness and uniformity.”
“Uh no, I haven’t. I’m not much of a collector of knowledge, no offense, I like putting it to use. I’m currently working on something you might find useful. I had an idea for a set of glasses that would allow one to read a language the person didn’t know. I think if I…”
“Right right, I’m sure that will be wonderful.” interrupted the priest. “Your words of the crypt, possibly the crypt of Prince Larkson I especially found intriguing. You mentioned the runes and sigils inscribed, how did you put it, ‘banded by metal that showed no signs of aging or tarnish, possibly a formula of steel with some exotics infused in it. The metal was covered over 80% of its surface with the same 27 sigils, repeating in different patterns. Although I didn’t see all sides the patterns seemed to comprise of three patterns that were then comprised of 3 larger patterns. I surmise that…’ well you’re familiar with what you wrote, I needn’t repeat it I’m sure. Your notes are quite at odds with your conversational patterns which I found refreshing by the way.”
“Well yeah, my life depends on me being able to make precision notes and diagrams for my craft. Sloppy and lack of detail means waking up explaining to the gods why I managed to make a construct that burrowed its way up my ass to my heart while I was sleeping.”
“Of course. Anyway, the reason I’m here, do you think you could reproduce the inscriptions in the metal?”
“Not with accuracy, I only viewed two sides of the crypt and only for a few brief moments. We were… interrupted and had to leave. That’s flowery talk for a 100 nasty assed things with teeth and claws showed up and we felt we’d be better off hauling ass out of there.”
“Right right, it was in your notes. By the way, no should I tell him, it’s in the proscribed knowledge, no I see no harm in it. Those creatures were undoubtedly the Prince’s royal bodyguards, holy warriors and casters, sworn to protect the prince even unto death. When they failed in their duty, they were cursed along with the city by the Prince’s death into guarding his body until the city was no more. The body of the prince, kept safe in that tomb from ruin and the tomb kept safe by the guardians is what keeps the curse on the city in stasis and thus keeps those creatures warded… but that’s enough, some information is best not spread or discussed.”
“Ummm, right.”
“So you’re okay then with me performing a Ritual of Remembrance on you? It would take only a few hours of your time and would allow you to retrieve what you saw that day with utmost clarity. I would like scribes available to draw what you saw that day. Our knowledge of the last days of Darkmith is so little and anything you can do to enlarge that store of knowledge would find us very generous. Larkson’s last resting place is something we know so little of.” The priest’s eyes bore into those of Biminey, a raw naked yearning in them visible for a moment.
“How generous? And I’m leaving today for a few days, on business for the Council.”
The priest produced a bag from his sleeve and dropped it on the table. “That’s a hundred gold, just for considering the idea. If you agree, there will be another nine just like it.”
“I’d rather have access to the old knowledge of Darkmith. I merely want to see maps of the city, out of curiosity so I can see where we might have traveled through it.”
“No! Such knowledge is forbidden, that city still holds potent evils, riders of chaos that can enter the body and mind, subsume them and spread their chaos to others. No, you will have to be content with monetary gain.”
“I see no harm in maps…”
“I said no, end of discussion!” Merkin slammed one hand down on the table, the scroll underneath rolling slightly forward from the force of the man’s blow.
“Right right right. Okay, tell you what, I’ll take your gold and consider your offer. When we get back, I’ll have an answer for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really do have to get ready, I’ll be in touch when I get back.”
Biminey led the priest to the door, careful to keep his body between the man and the table and the scroll underneath.
Merkin turned at the doorway, his yellow tinged eyes blinking as the artificer took a step forward to fill the doorway. “I expect to hear from you in a few days then,” he said with a slight bow of he head, “Until then, may the fruit of knowledge fall in plenty upon you.”
Biminey closed the door and quietly barred it again. With a snort he muttered, “Yeah except what you don’t want me to have. What exactly are you hiding in those vaults of yours I wonder….”
Checking the angle of the sun he saw he had another hour or so before they were to meet to pick up horses and start their trek up river to investigate the bandits. Getting out quill and ink and fresh paper, he determined to spend the time trying to decipher how he could entwine constructs into glass such that they could see a letter on one side and display an image known to the wearer on the other.
Chewing on the end of the quill he sat deep in thought, idly rolling the stolen scroll on the floor with one foot.
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