The second constable noticed Xan's acquiescence and grunted in approval. "Looks like we won't have a problem with that elf monk, Sir Varius."
"Aye, Sir Quintinus. That's the second from this lot," said Sir Varius. He then turned to Borash and nodded, "Well, good sir, I thank you for calling us. We will take it from here. If there is any problem, we will place a bounty on the troublemakers with you."
Borash curled his lip as he looked at the four, then he grunted and left.
Sir Varius sighed. He looked weary. "What about you two?" he asked Yandy and Kaeros.
While his current conundrum was exceptionally unappealing, a possible lengthy stay in a backwater gaol didn't seem like much of an improvement. Then again, surely the others couldn't all be in the same situation without a good reason...
Sir Varius nods gratefully. He tells Sir Quintinus to lead the group and he will bring up the rear.
He then motions for you to follow Sir Quintinus, then flanks you.
As you exit the room and go into the main hall of the tavern, Vinny and Lucy look at you in disbelief. "What in the nine hells is going on?" barks Vinny. "Yer supposed ta be cleanin' yer mess!"
"I don't think they'll be doing that anytime soon, Vinny," Lucy said reluctantly as he longingly looked at Uzig. "Looks like they are headed to the gaoler's."
"Bah! A pox on the worthless lot!" spat Vinny.
The rest of the tavern hands muttered things to each other as they looked in your general direction. One pointed to Xan and whispered something to another tavern hand, whose eyes slowly widened and an incredulous grin broke on his face. A few looked at Uzig and shook their heads.
Once outside the tavern, they were met by the bright noon sun and the hustle and bustle of a busy street. The street was a hard, dirt road heavily creased with wagon tracks and horse hooves. The sides were pocked with footprints. The noise and light were a shock to the four, forcing them to squint and cover their eyes and ears.
Some people every once in a while glanced in your general direction with curiosity, but nothing more.
After walking for a few hundred meters, a shout was heard, "Ho there, Sir Varius, what rabble bring you on this fine day?"
"Palinurus Vopiscus, you old dog! Well met! Just a few drunks who outstayed their welcome at the tavern. You haven't by chance seen another foul looking stranger, have you? Dark half-elf with dark clothes?"
"So these are the four I've heard about this morrow! I do hope they haven't drunk all the wine!" Palinurus looked at Xan, then Uzig. He winked and grinned. "Looks like you two had a hell of a night!"
"Better not speak with this lot, Palinurus. We will question them soon enough," said Sir Quintinus. "Come on, you drunks. Just a bit further now."
The gaol was a white, sturdy stone and mortar building of two stories, with hardened wood reinforcing the walls at intervals. An old palisade surrounded most of it, but the part near the back, flush against the trees leading to a small wooded area looked to be in need of some repair.
The yells and cursing of certain individuals could be heard from the inside. From one of the lower windows? slits? you could see an eye glaring in your general direction.
Arriving at the gaol, the two fully armored guards saluted Sir Quintinus and Sir Varius, then went back to guarding. They barely even looked at you.
The inside, at least the entrance, was relatively clean and comfortable. It seemed that this was the main area where the townsfolk could come in with complaints or seek help. Surely the rest would be must more severe.
Sir Quintinus motions for you to follow him to another room, just off to the left of the main desk. The door is a thick, hard wooden door reinforced with steel ribs and inscribed with all sorts of runes. Perhaps shooting spells at these doors may not be such a good idea.
Inside the small room, the walls were bare and had runes inscribed here and there, on the floor, roof and bench as well. there was a small desk near the door, and a bench flush against the back wall, with room enough for maybe 5 people to sit.
Sir Quintinus points to the bench, "Alright you drunks, sit there and don't try anything. The entire gaol is covered with runes and wards, so your magic will most likely not work, or backfire." He sneered. "We are still trying to clean the last spell caster from the wall in another room. Bloody mess he left..."
He sat at the desk and brought out a thick, leather bound tome, opened it up, and lay it on the desk with a heavy thud. He then brought out a quill and dark ink. The sound of scribbles soon filled the air.
After a few brief moments, he stopped and put rested his chin on his left hand, while twirling the quill with his right. He looked at the four for a few long moments before sighing deeply and motioning to Uzig.
"You there, a cleric, yes?" His face scrunches up. "By the gods, you reek!" He fetches a piece of cloth from his person and puts it to his nose. "What's your story then? What brings you to Telás with these troublemakers?"
Uzig straightens his hair as best he can and calmly looks over to Sir Quintinus. “My name is Aculeo Bibulus and I have been on a holy pilgrimage for about a year now. I spread the word of Asturianna to those that I meet on my travels. If there is someone in need of healing or spiritual guidance I provide it to the best of my abilities. At night I sometimes partake in the local brews to ease the stress from the many charitable acts I provide during the day, such as healing the sick, helping old ladies cross the street and reading to terminally ill children.”
Uzig shuffles in his seat, giving his best smile to the constable. “I have no memory of going to the Green Crab, but I confess that I tend to drink too much on occasion. The empathetic pain I bear from those I help can be too much, so I self-soothe with alcohol. I can only pray that Asturianna has the grace to forgive this tortured dwarf. I also confess to healing the dark-elf, but I had no idea he was a man of ill repute. I thought he was just another unfortunate soul in need of healing. I hope that my actions haven't caused you too much trouble.” Uzig then gives a deep bow and holds it until the constable replies.
Rolls for persuasion: 2
Sir Quintinus scoffed, and shook his head, laughing incredulously: "You must think me a fool, dwarf, if you think you can fool me with such blatant mendacities." His voice was low, lethal and acerbic.
He stood up, a fluid, precise motion. He muttered something, raising his hands. His thumbs touched, forming a line while his index fingers leaned inward, forming a rudimentary triangle. A few moments later, his hands glowed slightly. His eyes became hateful slits, a dark rage pulsing through them.
"You have a dark, evil aura coiled around you. You are no Asturian Cleric!" he spat. "You wretched demon! Guards, guards! Seize this one immediately!" He turned his glare to the other three. "As for you three, I pray that you have not been corrupted by this accursed one!"
Two heavily armored guards barged in, swords and scrolls drawn.
"Take him to the Hall of Repentance. Perhaps some of the paladins can mend his soul."
Uzig sighs and speaks in a soft voice. "I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this..." He then sprints for the door, and tries to slide under the two guards to freedom.
Rolls to escape grapple: 20
Using the filth of the morning to lubricate his person, Uzig slips through their grasps and tries to make a break for his freedom.
All of the sudden, the world turns bright white and fades to grey.
"Sir Quintinus, you seem to be losing your edge," said Sir Varinus. "Good thing I was waiting out here."
Sir Varinus sheathed his sword after wiping a bit of the blood from the backside. It seemed a blow to the head was enough to knock out the crazed filthy dwarf, if only temporarily.
The two guards, embarrassed and ashamed, bowed to Sir Varinus and apologizing profusely before they bound the dwarf and dragged him to the Hall of Repentance.
Sir Varinus walked into the room where the other three were sitting, their mouths agape utterly shocked at what just happened.
"Now," said Sir Varinus. "Does anyone else wish to escape?"
"A demon. Really?" Kaeros stared at the dwarf being dragged off and then scowled incredulously at the incompetent constable.
"I'm Kaeros Pinefar. Traveled here yesterday following a clue to the whereabouts of my wife's killer."
He told an abbreviated version of that night three years ago.
His visage had darkened considerably, and he shot an accusatory look at the top constable. "I had a pendant belonging to the killer in my possession. My axe and a small pack of personal belongings as well."
He stared up at the ceiling for a second. "All gone since last night. Along with whatever hope I had of finding something worthwhile here."
He continued, his voice raising slightly. "None of us, if you can get it through your thick skulls, have any idea what happened last night. I don't even think that daft elf there drinks!" He gestured with his head toward the female elf. "Something strange is going on."
Kaeros rolls (19)+1 = 20.
Rather than enter a plea with the constables, Xan makes a rudimentary writing gesture in the air and hopes that someone will provide her with the necessary supplies. If not, she will wait patiently as she had been taught to do since birth.
A dark aura around the cleric? It didn't seem possible, but the constable didn't seem like he needed to lie about it if he wanted the dwarf locked up. Yandy cast his mind back. Was there some magic that could taint an aura like that? Could it be responsible for their current predicament?
Yandy rolls (8)+5 = 13
Kaeros thinks back upon the strange dwarf's behavior. Indeed, it wasn't normal. He was a cleric, but not of Asturianna, that was for certain. His peculiar ramblings and crazed actions seemed to be hiding something, his voice strained, as if forced.
The current situation led Kaeros to believe that they must have been poisoned or charmed by some powerful magic. Looking around, there was no way that she-elf monk would drink, much less do things that tavern wenches would do for a few shillings.
Yandy looked around, noticing many of the runes and wards. He recognized a scant few, but they gave an idea of what types of interrogations happen here. There were anti-magic wards and runes against negative energy, protection against evil and summoning enhancers. To summon what, he did not know. The dwarf clearly was not resonating any evil during the scuttle at the tavern, so why did the aura come out now? Was it due to the other runes and wards that he was not familiar with?
Sir Quintinus, clearly embarrassed by the dwarf's attempted escape, tried to calm his fury. "Wretched dwarf!" He spat, the shame clearly etched on his face. Sir Varinus motioned for Sir Quintinus to be silent and said, "You there, druid, what pendant do you speak of? If the tavern took your effects as payment, I would need for you to describe them in exquisite detail so we can identify them and see if we can obtain them."
He grabbed a quill and some ink along with a few leaflets and handed them to Xan. "Not sure what your circumstances are, if you have taken a vow of silence or what not, but if this will facilitate communication, then I pray you write. We have more leaflets if you require them."
Sir Varinus sighed again. It was a ragged, tired sigh. "Between this lot, the escaped thief, the missing children, the slaughtered cattle, the strange voices at the lake, and the pest plague happening at the general store, I am up to my ears in bureaucratic nonsense."
Sir Quintinus sighed as well. "The King doesn't seem too pleased with the way things are being run here. Perhaps another grand council? At least we can ask for more resources..." "Aye, that would be capital. However, we know how tight the purse strings are in these parts, so we must make do with what we have."
Sir Varinus looked at the three. "I don't sense any malevolence from you three, at least not like the dwarf. I am by no means a magic caster, but I've picked up a few incantations here and there during my time and reading auras is one of them. That is why I flanked you while we were coming here."
Sir Varinus pulled up a small stool and sat, his body thumping hard, as if his leg strength gave out. He breathed in deeply, closed his eyes, and exhaled. How long had it been since he last slept?
He opened his tired eyes again and smiled bitterly, "Don't get old. There's nothing good in it." He breathed in again, picked up a small scroll and a quill. "Here is the information we have about you three from last night:"
"You were all seated in the same table, as is usual for complete strangers since the locals already claimed their usual spots. You ordered food and drink, you spoke to some people, there was a lovely lady who kept coming to your table (perhaps she was propositioning herself? not uncommon), and then your drunken antics. Then whatever happened this morrow at the tavern with Borash and now you are here."
He breathed deeply again. "Am I missing anything else, Sir Quintinus?"
"No sir," replied the other. "We just don't have enough information."
"I can't say I'm not disappointed with our information gathering resources." The old man looked at the three again and sighed. "So that's what we have. You two, monk and wizard, please enlighten us as to why you are here, what you were doing before and what you were hoping to do after."
Thinking carefully, Xan begins to write down her understanding or lack thereof on the papers handed to her. Her training shows in the perfect formation of the letters and precise movements of her hands. "My name is Xan. I am the last remaining sister of The Order of Smakhi Dai. I have taken a vow of silence that I must never knowingly break. I have travelled here to seek out the demons who destroyed my order and discover the truth behind their escape. I cannot rest until this is accomplished. As to the events at the tavern last night, I have no memory of it but I would never willingly imbibe any intoxicant and my order does not permit any non-ritual dancing. I believe some dark force must have been at play if what you say is true." Upon completion, Xan submits it back to Sir Quinitnus while trying her best to make her face and posture read as earnest as possible.
After doing so, Xan turns her attention on the dwarf and attempts to discern what makes him seem so apparently evil. Is he truly a vessel for a demon.
Xan rolls insight: 1d20+5 = (13)+5 = 18
Sir Varinus takes the page and reads it. "Huh, a vow of silence, eh." He looks at Sir Quintinus and winks, "I wish you would take a vow of silence at times."
Sir Quintinus smirks and continues his note taking.
Xan did not get much of an evil impression about Uzig. If he were an actual demon, the magic required to hide such presence must be phenomenally high level. If he were a vessel for a demon, Xan knew of a few ways to test for demonic presence such as the rare Herbs of Narazakh, the Ritual of Mousou and the sacred Blade of The First One, the pure white curved blade of the founder of her order, whose uncanny fighting abilities and unfathomable wisdom were amongst legend in her realm of Wei (in the common tongue, The Island of Epal Kordobast).
Since she had access to neither at the moment, she decided to gather as much information as possible to see if Uzig was a demon, or have some relation to a demon. And if so, could he be saved?
Sir Varinus looks at Xan. While she did not have the beauty of her kind, she had a radiant aura of elegance, calmness and, if he squinted, some attractive features.
"I have heard about certain orders of monks from afar. They say after years of intense training, their hands become mighty magical weapons and they are impervious to most damage and poisons. While I am skeptical about the latter, I have seen first hand the frightening power of the former. Tell me, young monk, do you possess such magic?"
"Command...er, ah, Sir Varinus. While the monk writes, please continue with the other elf. I believe he has some arcane training."
Sir Varinus shot the younger man a hard stare and then looked at Yandy and smiled.
"You are a wizard, I presume? If you would be so kind as to enlighten us about your presence here and how you relate to the others, I would be much obliged."
Sir Varinus scratches his chin and ponders for a while. "For the life of me, I cannot fathom who would profit from your unfortunate situation. The tavern owner had your items pawned to recuperate what was lost or damaged from the night before. He is still requiring payment, so apparently you didn't have enough on your person. We constantly have travelers passing through, so it is not within reason for you four to be preyed upon." He leans back slightly, closes his eyes and sighs. "To be perfectly honest, I am at a loss as to what to do with you four. I have a crazed dwarf who may or may not be a demon, or may be consorting with them, I have a druid, monk and wizard who have wrecked and attacked a local businessman. And to add further mystery," he nods at Xan. "You mention dark forces at work. We have no information of any attack or nefarious organization working in or around Telás. This is a conundrum, indeed."
"Why don't you just throw them in a cell and be done with it," questioned Sir Quintinus.
"Aye, that would be the easiest course, Sir Quintinus," replied the old man with a sigh. "And one I am most desperate to take. However, I cannot forget my vow nor station here. Regardless of all the paperwork and bureaucratic nightmares, it is my charge as head of Telás security to investigate any and all things." He massaged his thighs a bit, wincing. "I just wish I had my youth back..."
He looked at the four. "In any case, there are simply too many unknowns at the moment, and while the situation is unresolved, I would ask that you be our guests for the night. You will be fed and have some decent lodgings, but you will be under guard. While I cannot outright arrest you, I would ask that you give me some time to figure things out. I have my spiders crawling through the town at the moment, and once I have..." He was cut off by a messenger who barged in the door.
"My apologies, Sir Varinus. There is an urgent matter of a missing child."
The old man's countenance fell, and was dark and grave. "By the nine hells, that's the third one this season!" He got up. He looked at the three and said, "Forgive me, I must take my leave. Sir Quintinus will see to your lodgings. I will be back either this evening or on the morrow."
As he left, he handed Sir Quintinus some items and whispered something. The younger man bit his lip, but seemed to acquiesce.
Once the old man left, Sir Quintinus grumbled, "Alright you lot, the commander says you will have lodgings here, so lodgings you will have. Nothing too fancy, but at the very least it is much more comfortable than that dwarf will have..."
He stood up and motioned for the three to follow him.
Hearing the messenger's words, Yandy's ears perk up. While following Sir Quintinus he asks: "Pardon my inquisitiveness, but are missing children a common occurrence around these areas?"
Knowing that it could be useful in the future, Xan makes sure to hold onto the paper and pen that she was given as she rises and follows Quintinus. While she is unsure of what the situation with the dwarf may be, she knows that causing trouble now will only make the situation worse. That's not something she wants right now.
Sir Quintinus abruptly stopped and turned, his face darkened slightly, a brief flash of anger that subsided into a frustrated sadness. "No, this is a recent development. We've always had boys getting lost in the fields or forests, but they always come back within a day or two with scrapes and scratches and stories of their adventures. But this..." he sighs wearily, "This is something much more sinister. The first boy missing this season was about two moons ago. The interesting thing was, he didn't get lost in the usual place like the tall grass fields or the forest. We found certain items near the northern fields, where it is flat and you can see for miles around."
He scratched his head before continuing. "There's really not much up north, other than a few fields that lay fallow for most of the time. There are maybe a few low hills, but other than that, there are no major trade routes, roads, or pretty much anything of interest there."
Sir Quintinus threw his hands up. "We have no bloody idea where the boy is or what in the nine hells he was doing there."
"And now," he said. "And now, we have three, all missing up in the same place. We've sent riders, scouts, hell even camped out there for a while, but nothing ever looked out of place, no attacks, nothing."
He shook his head sadly. "Since we have our hands tied due to lack of resources, we can't launch an investigation to the northern fields because we still have other things to take care of." He spat. "The boys should take precedence before any of these useless requests, but we have no say in the matter."
"If only we had..." he stopped and looked at the three for what seemed an uncomfortable period of time. "The commander would probably chew me out, but I have half a mind to binding you three and having you help us. Naturally, what you find you can use to pay off your debt to Borash, and anything else should earn you some coin for your gear. Now, before I make a formal request, I'd like to hear your thoughts. Will you help us?"
Rather than waste the precious paper and ink that she only recently acquired, Xan simply bows deeply with acquiescence. It seems that helping find some lost children is a more meaningful use of her skills than cleaning spilled ale while getting her bum pinched by drunkards.
Yandy weighed his options carefully. Judging by the workload the small squadron had to grapple with, Quintinus would be in no hurry to investigate his case. What gold they might find would probably not pay even his own debt, yet alone repay whatever damages the filthy dwarf had wrought, but winning the guard's favour here could be worth far more than coin.
He nodded in acquiescence. "A sound idea. It would be wise of you to make use of whatever resources you have available".
Sir Quintinus grunts in appreciation. "Truly, I am obliged to you. Now the difficult part..."
After walking some time, with two of the three in tow, Kaeros deciding to decline the offer and leave of his own accord, seeing as he wasn't under arrest. Sir Quintinus comes to a small but well built house. The inside betrayed the clean and impeccable façade: it was utter chaos of leaflets, notes, books, binders, stationery and dirty clothes with bits and pieces of food here and there. This wasn't a house at all...
"Command...errr, Sir Varinus, I believe I have found a possible solution to our resource problem." He motions to the monk and the wizard. "Why not bind them to service and have them help with the missing boys?"
Sir Varinus' face was incredulous, but his blood shot eyes soon softened and he threw his hands up, conceding defeat. "By the nine hells, I would accept a half-dead kobold if I could get some of this wretched paperwork finished even a day faster." He let out a raspy, weary sigh. "So be it, I will take full responsibility."
Sir Varinus turned to face the two. "I will bind you to service. The ritual is rather short, but painful. This will guarantee you will not flee nor betray us. Once the ritual is finished, there is no unbinding of the ritual until you are relieved, or die." He smiled a bitter smile, pointing to the endless mountains of paperwork. "Seems death might be a more favorable outcome than dealing with this unending hell."
He went into another room, the sounds of shuffling papers and objects being moved about could be heard for a few moments. He came back with a long parchment tied with a blueish black ribbon. He untied the ribbon and the parchment unrolled slightly. Some glyphs and runes could be seen.
He unrolled the parchment on the table. It had some odd script that covered about the top half. The bottom half was curiously empty. Sir Varinus took out a short knife and took a deep breath. He muttered something, the knife grew mysteriously bright and he sliced his left hand. As the blood welled up, he laid it on the parchment.
The glyphs and runes slowly began to glow and distort, some slithering this way and that towards the bloody hand print, eventually forming a sacred circle with the familiar symbols of the Goddess of Wisdom.
He then wiped his hand and the wound mysteriously shrunk and then disappeared as if he never cut himself.
He then motioned for the two to hold out their hands. "I will bind you by blood ritual, under the power of Asturianna the Wise."
The two guards drag Uzig'slimp, reeking body to the Hall of Repentance. Visibly annoyed, they handle the unconscious dwarf in a rather rough, spiteful way. After walking through a few corridors and coming up on a hard, stone floor, they throw the dwarf down, still bound and tied, like a lump of old, ragged cloth rolls. "Oooyyy, Sir Acropolistis Silvanus! You have a new charge! We will leave it on the floor." One of the guards looked around, and satisfied that no one was around, gave the dwarf a solid kick and walked off. A few moments later, the clanging of plate armor could be heard. "What's this!" cried Sir Acropolistis. "A filthy dwarf?" As he came closer to the dwarf he suddenly drew back, weapon drawn. "Hark, I smell death and evil upon thee!" He crept slightly closer, his hand gripping his mace, knuckles turning white. "Speak, demon! What affairs have you with this dwarf?"
The paladin awaits the response of the demon
Uzig struggles to lift his head, but manages to make eye contact with the paladin. “Before we start this interrogation, can I PLEASE be given a bath...even a bucket with a wash cloth would be acceptable at this point...” The dwarf's head slumps back to the hard floor and he stares blankly at the corner of his new cell. “If ye give me a wash I would be much more willing to talk. I've been covered in my own filth for what seems like forever now...”
<Uzig Rolls for persuasion> =8
The paladin scoffs. "Such weak attempts to charm me will not work, foul monster! I am Acropolistis Silvanus, Paladin of Asturianna the Fair, and I will not bend to your accursed magicks! Prepare yourself, villain!" The paladin begins his incantation and summons a protection spell.
Uzig sighs and painfully sits up. “No need for the theatrics. I'm quite harmless, to be honest. I'm no demon... but my faith is a little... unorthodox, I admit. It is true that I'm not an Austurian cleric. About a year ago I was regaling the patrons of a modest tavern in Percha with a new composition I had written on the beauty of bitumen veins...”
Uzig notices the confused look come over the paladin's face. “A type of coal for those not acquainted with the bounties of the deep. Then, all of a sudden, the dark lord spoke to me. Like a roaring from the depths of the earth, he conveyed that he had never seen such exquisite pain brought to a being, and solely by the simple recitation of words.”
Uzig pauses a second and considers what he had just said before continuing. “Of course he meant the existential pain brought about by the deep themes of my work. Anyways, the point is my poetry moved a GOD. Can any other poet claim the same? Ever since I have been composing poetry for my greatest critic. Praise thee, oh Muculent Master!”
Uzig's face briefly becomes a grim mask. “I am THE chosen warrior poet, servant of the almighty Almendrositui: God of war and betrayal. The original necromancer and first lich king of Cundinamarca.” The dwarf looks up to the heavens and raises his arms. “All praises to thee, oh glorious Dark One!”
Uzig then looks back to the paladin. “In other words, I am a poet, sir. Though I am not an agent of the light such as yourself, I intend no harm for those I meet. I ONLY compose poetry to please my lord. I'm NOT a demon! I'm simply on tour. I recite my compositions for those who would hear them, moving from town to town. One day I shall be the most famous poet in all of Cundinamarca!” He then gives a look of disdain to his warden. “Your pure and saintly gods are such fools! You are limited by your beliefs. MY god understands that life isn't something that is good or evil; there are nuances. Everyone has both light and dark within their souls. To deny this is insanity.”
The cleric stands up and strikes a defiant pose with every ounce of his remaining strength. “Persecute me if you must, but you can't force your beliefs onto everyone just because they think differently than you!” He relaxes his pose and raises one hand with its palm up in a dramatic fashion. The action seems well practiced and is executed with a style not often seen from a dwarf. “Oh paladin, ye red-crossed knight. Why do you fear the inky night? The light you serve blinds the truth That good is nothing but a ruse. You chain up those who refuse your lies You hypocrite of incredible size. But I know why you've adopted this faith You have a small sword and an ugly face!”
The paladin is finished with his incantation and a sphere of shimmering light radiates from him and quickly disappears.
"Oh, Holy Asturianna, Fair Maiden of the Gods, Most Holy of Holies, grant your servant the power to exorcise this dark power from this plane!" The paladin roared, holding his mace high, his position slightly oblique to Uzig, with his eyes burning with passion. The mace began to glow, at first barely faint, then slowly building up until it had a very visible shimmering white aura around it. "Come now, then, demon, and face your punishment! Have at ...." the paladin collapsed before he finished. A dark figure emerged from behind the paladin, with a sinister smile. "I knew I was right to trust in you, brother. I too am a humble servant of Almendrositui."
It was the dark elf! What luck!
"Allow me to unbind you. There is a hidden passage that may have enough space for both of us to pass through to the woods in the back. Please follow me." Before heading out, the dark elf stuck his hands in the paladin's armor and fished around for some items. Once he removed what he wanted, he nodded to Uzig and motioned for him to follow.
Uzig looks at the body in front of him, stunned. “You...Did you kill the stupid bastard? They will blame me for this... Holy hell, I'll never be able to sleep easy again...” He grabs his head with both hands in pain. “By the seventh ring of hell, you have damned me for life!” The pain seems to subside as he moves towards the dark elf. His movement seems reluctant, almost robotic. “I suppose there is no alternative now. Let the Lich King guide me.” And with that the dwarf follows his new partner to whatever fate awaits him.
The dark elf looks at the dwarf, his eye cocked in bewilderment or amusement. "Brother, I have not killed anyone. The paladin received a strategic blow to the back of his skull. He will forget what he was doing that day, but will only remember the dull pain." He smiled, a disarming, sad smile. "Besides, our Lord desires a different sort of sacrifice. He has no appetite for hypocritical zealots." He motions for the dwarf to follow him into a small hole. He shoves the bulky dwarf in, then quietly melts into the shadows of the hole, and pulls the sliding cover back to its place with a soft click. "Follow me," he whispers as he gingerly crab-walks in between the walls, careful not to scrape too much against the insulation or the nails sticking out. Uzig was not so lucky with the nails, but biting his tongue, he managed to not make too much of a sound.
Once the thief and Uzig escaped the gaol, they followed a small, narrow path to the forest. There, the thief smiled at Uzig and presented him with a small, bone whistle, that looked more like a strange bird beak than anything else. "In Darkness, we are one. Whenever you are in trouble, blow this whistle. If I am near, I swear by our Nebulous Father that I will help you if I am able to." The thief takes a small step back, smiles again and bows. In the very next instant, all sight of him is gone, as he vanished like thin air. "Your fellow travelers are at the commander's house, the impeccable one down the road from here. Hide in the bushes and see what they are doing..." the thief's voice faded into a breeze.
“What do I care? They are nothing to me...” The dwarf paused for a moment in thought, looking at the small whistle in his hand. “I suppose they might prove useful in finding who is responsible for taking advantage of me last night. Wait, who am I talking to?” Only the rustle of the trees answered him. “Blasted drow.” Uzig grumbled quietly as he worked his way to the commander's house. He tried his best not to be detected. Once he reached his objective, the filth-ridden cleric hid in the bushes as instructed and surveyed the situation.
Uzig rolls a perception check (wisdom prof. +3): 1d20 +3 = (2) +3 = 5
Yandy focuses on the odd script on the top half of the parchment. A significant chunk of his young life had been spent with his nose buried in research tomes, but the specifics of this religious ritual eluded him. While Varinus focused on his knife, Yandy passed his eyes over the text, trying to gain some insight into the situation.
Yandy rolls insight: 1d20+5 = (19)+5 = 24
Yandy's sharp eyes picked out a word here and there. The original handwriting was sloppy, which is why he didn't recognize it at first, but this was, without a doubt, a very high level binding scroll, tied to Asturianna and the Holy Plane.
The ritual itself was a hodgepodge of mutterings and incantations, certainly nothing pure from any one school of magic or divinity.
While it was a high level binding spell, the ritual and scroll itself presented no discernible evil or gotchas. It was, for lack of a better phrase, a laughably simplistic service contract.
It would not be a stretch to peg the creator of this scroll to be a cleric who was pressed for time and had little motivation or love to write the rules and stipulations for this celestial contract.
Yandy almost snorted. While the binding would certainly prevent them from running away, it would do them absolutely no harm, and the binding would end after completing a single contract order, which in this case, would be to find the missing children.
The cleric who drafted this was certainly no intellectual, nor had any substantial knowledge of the intricacies of celestial contracts or bindings.
However simplistic the contract was, it was still a powerful bind. The old commander must have been utterly spent, his eyes betrayed a desperation and loss, a flash of vulnerability that was not lost to those who had any modicum of perception.
There was no guarantee that the missing children were still alive or within reach, but Varinus seemed to value cutting off the ever growing mountain of paperwork more than the literal physical return of the children. Satisfied that a successful investigation of what happened should be enough to free them of this contract, Yandy holds out his hand.
The old commander nods in appreciation and takes Yandy's hand firmly. He looks Yandy in the eye, mutters a few words, a hodgepodge of Old Latium, Orcish, some bastardized Elvish and one or two words of Celestial origin. Definitely not a very well made ritual. Sir Varinus quickly and deftly slashed Yandy's palm with the glowing knife. A brief instant of pain, but then it was extinguished. Sir Varinus then turned Yandy's hand over and laid it palm down on the parchment, directly on top of his bloody palm print. The sensation was a bit cool to the touch, and almost electrifying. But Sir Varinus let go of Yandy's hand and the blood palm imprint began to move on its own, with the circle of letters, glyphs and runes spinning counter-clockwise and stopping after a few cycles. Sir Varinus thanks Yandy and looks at Xan.
Without a moment of hesitation, Xan produces a hand and waits for Varinus to do the ritual. Although she would rather not be bound in such a way, she knows that her own goals depend on getting through this little problem.
Sir Varinus smiles at the elf-monk and grunts in appreciation. He takes her hand gently and draws the white blade across her palm. A quick sting followed by a mellow cool is felt as the blood wells up. Again, he gently lays her hand on the parchment as her blood imprinted on top of the others. Sir Varinus muttered something, with the final word sharply enunciated: "San gré" The wounds on both Yandy and Xan began to close and heal. The letters on the celestial contract turned clockwise and began to spin faster and faster. As they spun, the circle contracted further and further until the blood was swallowed up and all that was left was a small black dot. Suddenly the parchment lit up in a pale, blue flame and then faded towards the heavens. "It is done," said Sir Varinus. "By the grace of Asturianna, I may yet get some rest."
Sir Varinus slumps to his seat, the exertions of the celestial contract taking their toll on his old, battered body. "On the morrow, I bid you to investigate the northern fields where the boys were last seen. I will have you guided by the last youth who saw them, one of the town elder's sons. He has some knowledge of the area, so maybe he may be of some use to you." "For now," he sighed. "Hand the shopkeeper this note and he should be able to give you some rudimentary supplies. Nothing like what you had, but certainly better than sticks."
Sir Varinus hastily jots down a memo and signs it. He then seals the note and holds it out.
Uzig could only hear bits and pieces of muffled speech. There was something about the northern fields and meeting someone on the morrow. There was also a few flashes of white light. A spell of some sort? A lantern? A shiny object reflecting light?
Regardless, it seemed that the others would be going to investigate the next day. In the mean time, Uzig began to notice his own smell was beginning to attract a bit of unwarranted attention. Perhaps it would be best to find a bit of running water to wash away the accumulated filth.
After the binding ritual finished, Sir Quintinus nods and motions for you to follow him to the general store.
Upon exiting the house, there was a rather unusual, fetid odor coming from the bushes. "Damn merchants," muttered Sir Quintinus. "They should pick up their horses filth and sell it to the farmers."
He motioned for the others to follow him. "The commander's note is a promissory note for very basic gear. I know you'd like your own gear back, but that has been pawned and there's little I can do about it at the moment." He scratched his chin, pondering. "If you manage to solve the issue of the missing boys, perhaps I can get someone from the higher echelons to help get your gear back. After all, they would be most pleased to hear news about this incident."
It was well past noon, heading into early evening. The streets were less crowded and some shops, such as the bakery and other foodstuffs, were closing for the day. The merchant caravans were no longer taking up the road so walking was much faster than before.
After walking a few hundred meters, they arrived at a large three storied building with several smaller storage houses in the back. There were some unscrupulous and scarred heavily armed guards walking around, no doubt to welcome any thief or mischief maker.
Sir Quintinus smirked as he passed a rather large, fearsome looking orc. The orc stopped and looked at the three, snorted, and went back to his rounds.
They entered the shop where the shopkeeper, a loquacious, seemingly good-natured gnome greeted them with bright eyes and a toothy smile. "Welcome to my shop, gentlemen! Ahh, Sir Quintinus, it has been a while. Are you looking for something for yourself?"
"Well met, Iosephus Candidius, I see the gods have been most favorable to you."
"Ah, Sir Quintinus, you are much too kind. I am but a humble gnome who praises the gods. They deem me worthy of their affections."
Sir Quintinus smiled thinly. "I have a promissory note from Sir Varinus. These two need basic gear."
Sir Quintinus hands the gnome the note and then turns to the two.
"Please speak with Master Iosephus about your needs. He motions them closer and whispers, "While his last name is Candidus, he is anything but. Be wary."
He turned, nodded to the merchant and left.
Iosephus Candidus smiled. "So tell me, what needs have you?"
Uzig slunk away deeper into the forest. He found a quiet place and slumped to the ground in a pile. “Well we certainly are in a pile of sh!t now, aren't we my lord.” He cradled his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. “If I were to run, the authorities would just track me down. I need to get to the bottom of what happened last night. If I can prove my innocence perhaps they will overlook my unconventional faith.” He looked at the whistle the drow had given him with a crooked grin. “And I have other things to offer now as well.” He hid the whistle away and continued to muse. “First, I will need to reinsert myself with those fools tomorrow, but I can't very well continue on in this state.”
Uzig scratched his beard and looked up at the sky. “What to do, eh? I shall need a bath and provisions if I am to be of any use. I am no cunning thief. I can't very well steal anything without being caught immediately. I'm no woodsman either. It won't be a comfortable night and I doubt I will be able to find any running water or food for myself...and good lord, I NEED a good, strong drink.”
He turned his head to the side and was still for a moment. “What? 'To go forwards you must sometimes go backwards?' Please lord, I've not your intellect. Could you perhaps speak more plainly?” The dwarf was silent again, nodding his head. “I see... It is a bold plan, my lord. One that could end quite badly if we are unlucky. And we have had some rather bad luck as of late. But if you think it is the best course of action then I shall bow to your will, as always.”
With that the dwarf sets off back to the city. He tries to take back alleys and shadowy roads so as not to be seen. He then arrives at his destination: The Green Crab Tavern. “Welp, here goes nothin'.”
Relieved to have the opportunity to gather some supplies to make the task easier, Xan quickly scrawled a missive on a small sliver of parchment. Her requests are fairly simple; a quarterstaff, some darts and some adventuring gear. In her mind she knew she could do without most of it but it would make the task easier. Hopefully the note from Sir Varinus would cover it all.
The merchant smiled a perfect smile. "Love the monks. They don't need much!" He turned around and barked some orders at the people in the back: "One quarterstaff, a set of darts, and some adventuring gear for the elf-monk!"
He turned and smiled again at Yandy. "What about you, Master Wizard?"
While he had no intention of resorting to using it, a visible dagger would serve to ward off those looking for easy prey. Other than that, the bare necessities for this task would be some simple magical components, a spellbook and writing equipment, and whatever adventuring gear the gnomish merchant could supply them with. There was no telling what might have happened to remove all traces of the missing children so thoroughly. If another magic user was responsible then it would be foolish to risk an encounter unprepared.
The merchant smiled his perfect smile and nodded. "Aye, you'll be needing some protection. Apologies, but I don't have any spellbooks in stock, just a folio with parchment attached. I do hope that will suffice." Candidus turned and barked orders out again. "A small dagger, parchment, folio, ink and a quill, some adventuring gear for the elf-wizard!" He turned around and smiled to the two and bowed, "We are at your service should you need anything else." At this time, someone from the back rooms came, with some dark blood stains and a rather large dead rat stuck in a makeshift trap. "A pox on these pests! Why I ought to..." he quickly sees the two travelers and tries to hide the cage, behind his body and cover what he can of the blood stains with his other arm before realizing it was a failure, tried to withdraw.
Iosephus Candidus' perfect façade cracked for the briefest of moments before he turned to the two and smiled that perfect smile of his again. "My utmost sincere apologies you had to see something so below your station Master Wizard and Master Monk. Please pay it no heed. Oh, excellent, looks like your gear is ready. Let me but do a final check." His voice trailed off as he carefully investigated the gear. "We can only spare what we have for this gear, as the promissory note is not for unlimited credit, please understand." The gnome merchant's eyes were a bit hard, but his smile was ever perfect as he handed the gear to the two. "Here you are, Master Wizard and Master Monk. May your adventures be fruitful and profitable!"
Yandy receives the following:
1 small dagger
1 adventure pack (small bundle to sleep in, small waterskin, kindling kit, small cooking pot and fork)
1 small ink vial with a mediocre quill
1 small folio with some parchment pages
a bit of lint
some quartz and lowly stones
Xan receives the following:
1 set of darts (5 small metallic)
1 wooden quarterstaff
1 adventure pack (small bundle to sleep in, small waterskin, kindling kit, small cooking pot and fork)
1 small ink vial with a mediocre quill
5 small pages of paper.
"Now, I must take my leave, I must tend to some business," said the gnome in a slightly sharp, flat, practiced voice as he slowly and menacingly walked in the direction where the bloody man with the dead rat was last seen.
In a bit of sheer luck, the foul dwarf encountered Lucy sweeping out in the back. The gnome was startled, but soon was overjoyed.
"Master Dwarf! A sight for sore eyes you are! Have you, perchance, come to pay us a little visit?" the jolly gnome inquired, his eyes glittering. The gnome looked trustworthy enough, and going by the previous encounter, perhaps fancied the dwarf.
Mayhaps this feeling could be used to Uzig's advantage?
Uzig smiles at Lucy. “Salutations, fair Lucy! Just the gnome I was looking for. Might I trouble you for a moment of your time in private? I've a proposition I wish to discuss.” The dwarf holds his hand out for a handshake.
Lucy nearly burst with joy, but then quickly tempered himself with a quick breath. "Master Dwarf! This poor gnome is at your service." He crinkled his nose a bit. "But first, may I be so rude as to suggest a bath? It is appalling that they did nothing of the sort at the gaol! Dear me, what a wretched state you are in!"
“I apologize for my continuing lack of hygiene. It is not intentional, I assure you.” Uzig lowers his hand and shifts uncomfortably in his soiled garments. “I would be most grateful if you could help me in this regard, but perhaps first we could have that talk? It is of some urgency.”
The gnome nods his head gravely. He looks around, and then pulls you to a somewhat hidden corner, away from prying eyes. While visibly uncomfortable with the reek, he does his best to remain proper. "You do seem in a spot of trouble, Master Dwarf. What can poor Lucy do for you?"
“First off, I believe a proper introduction is in order. My name is Uzig Opalbelt, the renowned and much lauded traveling dwarf poet.” Uzig gives a grand bow to the gnome. “I've come here as a last resort, to be honest. Earlier, I had an altercation with the city guard. You see, they discovered that I preach a religion not to their liking and attempted to... re-educate me. However, I managed to escape their oppression but it will only be a matter of time before they notice my absence. Fear not, none were seriously harmed in the process of my escape. The reason I came to you is that you are the only one that doesn't profit from my downfall. I owe you coin and I assume that you would like to collect it. In order to repay you I shall need a little time and assistance. It is an investment, aye, perhaps one your not too keen on making. But it is an investment of little cost and risk to you with the chance for ripe rewards!”
Uzig closes his eyes for a moment and nods. He then locks eyes with Lucy, his tone level but with a flirtatious air. “Tonight I shall scrub, clean, or do WHATEVER you require of me to make a start of repaying my debt.” Uzig gives a not so subtle wink and grin to the gnome after finishing his sentence. “These acts of goodwill are in the hopes that I may make use of your facilities for this night and gain some basic provisions for the morrow. Any old clothes and armor you have lying around would do. A basic mace or cudgel would go far to aid me as well. And if you have a helm or something to cover my face that would also be most helpful as my friends from the gaol would not be happy to see me prancing about town.”
The dwarf scratches the back of his head with a weary look in his eyes. “My plan to repay you in full is simple; The other travelers you found me with last night are obviously helping the commander with something. I heard them make mention of the northern fields and meeting someone there tomorrow. I shall help them with their task and hopefully gain back the trust of the city guard by doing so. Afterwards, with my freedom restored, I shall be able to make back the coin I owe you.” Uzig shuffles around for a moment, looking nervously at Lucy. “If I fail, all you lose is some cheap equipment for which I hope to pay for through my... services... this very night. If the city guard ask discover that you helped me, you may tell them you had no idea I was I wanted man. I had just come back after their questions to pay off my debt and had made no mention of my situation. If my plan succeeds then you have me at your disposal to work off my debt. It seems a wise investment to me. What say you friend gnome?”
Xan quickly but very deliberately stows all of her gear after carefully inspecting each piece. She pays special attention to the quality of the darts and the staff; checking to ensure that they don't have any flaws that could later prove fatal. After doing so, she makes her way out onto the street to wait and see what her companion would do.
The equipment wasn't anything to show off, but considering that someone else had footed the bill he wasn't in any position to complain. The shadows were steadily growing as the day grew later. If Sir Varinus' request was going to be fulfilled then it was better to follow a warm trail. "If we head to the Northern fields we should be able to make camp before sundown. I'd feel better about our chances with someone watching my back. Do you think we can work together on this?"
While the two companions were speaking, a guard came. He bowed stiffly and said, "Sir Varinus asked me to guide you to your quarters for the night. You will be furnished with a simple hot meal and a warm bed." He smiled sadly, "While news of you helping out has reached my ears, I have no hopes for the missing children. Too much time has passed, and too little in the way of clues has come."
As he turns, he motions for you to follow him. "Please follow me."
In response to the other elf's question, Xan nods solemnly. While this search and rescue mission was not her intended purpose in the town, she would not let her new companion face the danger alone.
Realizing that it would probably be better to rest and recover in safety, she motions towards the guard and indicates that she would like to go with them. While she could certainly search in the dark while slightly injured, it would be less than ideal.
The guard nods in appreciation and motions for Yandy to follow as well.
Yandy agrees.
The two strange companions were haggard from their ordeal, still sore but thankfully the last pains of the drink finally faded from their heads. They followed the guard to the gaol where they met a younger guard who led them to a small, but comfortable looking chamber. The room was small, squarish in shape and had a relatively, if not hastily, swept wooden floor. The smell was tolerable as near the small window was a few aromatic herbs and vials to cleanse the air. On the floor was a plush but worn carpet. On the carpet was two used, but clean and comfortable looking sleeping bags. There was a small table nearby with some mugs and a canter of clear liquid, perhaps water. Next to the water was a small plate with some dried fruits and perhaps jerky. He bows his head, "My most humble apologies, honored guests, but we've had to use the bed for a medical emergency..." He shakes his head, "But it is nothing to worry the two of you about. Please rest and recover. Tomorrow you set out for the northern hills." He bows stiffly, and promptly leaves the room. He closes the door softly and his footsteps fade. The two companions gratefully wrap themselves in their respective bedding and soon welcome the warm embrace of Sleep. As they fall deeper and deeper into slumber, a strange power suddenly courses through them, only to fade away as quickly as it came.
The jolly gnome nodded gravely, and was silent for a while, deep in thought. He picked and twirled his beard unconsciously, his eyes distant and a bit sad. He then turned a sad smile to the dwarf and said, "Master Dwarf, there is nothing I would love to do better than enjoy your comforts for the night. However, with the situation regarding the guards, I am afraid I cannot offer you lodging here or at my humble abode." He raised a finger to the dwarf's lips with a slight twinkle in his eye. "This does not mean that I cannot still help you though. There is a small space in the forest where I sometimes go to collect my thoughts or to indulge in...free time. There is a sleeping bag there and within a few moments walk there is a stream that runs. The water is clear and clean, if not a bit cold." He scratched his beard for a moment, "I believe there might be a day's rations, although I cannot vouch for for their quality. Regardless, I will attempt to bring what I can to you at that spot tonight."
The jolly gnome quickly finishes a scribble of a map on the ground. "Go there straight away. There is a path through these bushes if you crawl on the ground. You won't be seen."
Lucy gently caresses Uzig's cheek. "Bless you, Master Uzig, and be safe. I must get back to work." He winked mischievously at the dwarf and headed back to his duties, leaving Uzig to ponder his next move.
Uzig watches the gnome disappear into the tavern and puts a hand to his cheek where the gnome had touched it. Small tears start welling in the corner of his eyes. “Thank you...” The dwarf wipes away the tears, a mask of profound sadness on his face. He looks down and notices that his hands are shaking badly. “By Anandimas' bouncing breasts, I need a drink.”
The hardship of the day shows in his movements as he retreats into the shadows and back to the forest.
Committing the simple scrawls to memory, Uzig was able to sneak his way into the forest. He got lost a bit, but was finally able to find the area where Lucy told him. The gear was hidden in a hollow of a tree. Near the tree was a bit of dark canvas that could be easily missed if one was not actively looking for the gear. The canvas was a makeshift door into a small hole dug into the earth, hidden by the tree's roots and the dark canvas. The hole wasn't much, but it did protect against wind and the earth muffled noise and regulated temperature. There was evidence of a small fire, but should Uzig risk the smoke and light?
The gear itself was unfortunately a bit small for Uzig, but he could probably tie and sew something together in the mean time. There was a bit of a bar of cleansing clay left, but the food rations were already wasted by moisture and insects.
All to do now was wash and wait.
Groaning in pain, Uzig makes his way to the stream and undresses, letting his soiled clothes fall to the ground. His body is blue and purple in spots from the trauma of his recent altercations. He puts a hand to the back of his head and winces. The blow from Sir Varius was a powerful one, leaving the dwarf swollen and still a little dazed.
He stiffly trudges into the stream. If the water is cold Uzig shows no sign of it on his face. Once fully submerged the dwarf lets out a sigh of relief and starts rubbing the filth from his body using the bar of clay. He then moves on to his hair and beard which are matted with blood and vomit. Finally he does his best to rinse out his clothes, rubbing them furiously for what seems an hour and spends the last of the clay doing so. The stream carries away the grime and viscera, leaving Uzig a changed man. After a good, long soak he emerges from the stream. The sounds of the forest echo around the newly baptized cleric as he hangs his rags on a nearby tree limb to dry.
He lumbers over to a fallen tree near the gnome's small sleeping area and sits down heavily. With eyes closed he remains quiet for a time, drying his naked body in the cool wind. He looks down to see his hands are still trembling. Suddenly he inhales sharply, visibly distressed by some pain from the wound on his head. The look of pain fades and he again surveys his surroundings, crickets chirping in the night air. “I do love the quiet of the night, my lord. Thank you for this small kindness.”
The stillness of the night is broken by a sudden explosive scream from Uzig as he falls forward from the tree limb to his knees, holding his head with both hands in agony. “FORGIVE ME LORD! MAKE IT STOP!”
Uzig lets his hands drop to the grassy purchase of the ground beneath him, breathing heavily. “...Thank... you... yes... thank you.” He slides inside the small canvas covered hole, panting. With a sad look in his eyes, he chants with little emotion while looking into the distance. “My faith is my shield. The inky stain of Almendrositui will cleanse the impure . All hail the Sanguine Saint...” Tears stream down his face. “All hail him or despair...” With that the dwarf's breathing slows and he falls into a deep slumber. The crickets resume their chirping and the moon shines ominously overhead.
After what seemed an age, the stillness of the night was further interrupted by quiet, mouselike footsteps. The footsteps slowly made their way towards the lump of flesh snoring in a hole under some roots. As the perky gnome gently smiled at the resting dwarf, a tear rolled down his eye as he saw the sleeping face of what was once a filthy, reeking wretch. He slowly approached and gently tapped the snoring dwarf on the shoulder. The dwarf did not move. The gnome tapped the dwarf again, a bit firmer, but still no response. It seemed that whatever happened to the dwarf utterly left him spent. The gnome stared at the dwarf with kind eyes for a long time, smiling a bit and content with the scene. After a while, a few tears welled up and ran down the jolly, bright face. A sad smile crept on the gnome's generous mouth and embarrassed, he wiped the tears and quietly laughed to himself. He placed a small backpack near the dwarf, opened it and pulled out a fairly large, dusky, old blanket. He gently placed it on the dwarf's body. He then pulled out some parchment and began writing down a few words. He folded the parchment and gently placed it inside the backpack. With a final, sad, longing gaze, the gnome worked up the courage to gently kiss the dwarf's furrowed brow and he left.
Uzig gains the following:
1 medium leather backpack
1 fairly old, sturdy leather armor set
1 small, sturdy club
1 some old, weathered garments
1 old, large blanket
1 small healing kit (1d4 health)
In addition, the folded letter reads:
My dearest Master Uzig, I hope this letter finds you in the best of health. Please forgive this useless Lucy as I could not accompany you nor comfort you in your time of need. The others have been alerted to your escape, and while Vinny and Borash seem like half-wits, they are unusually sharp in their perception, so I did not wish to bring undue burdens upon you. I do not know you well enough to call you friend, but I do hope that one day you return so that we may lift a cup and engage in some friendly banter, and, if I may be so bold, something more. These items I leave you, I am painfully aware that they are not suited to someone of your station, but, alas, it is what I could scrounge up in such a limited time. Should time and circumstances better suit you, you are most welcome at my humble abode. Fare thee well, Master Uzig. May fortune and blessings always find you. Ever yours, Lucius
Uzig suddenly awakes with a gasp and bolts upright to a sitting position. The canvas cover is thrown aside and the morning sun overhead showers the dwarf in blinding light. He shades his eyes with the back of his hand and looks around frantically. After a moment he regains his composure and notices the blanket and nearby backpack left for him. A small sad smile creeps to his face but is quickly replaced by a look of fierce determination.
The dwarf throws the blanket aside and rifles through the pack, taking inventory of what's inside. He finds a letter inside the pack and reads it carefully. After finishing he whispers to himself “In another life, perhaps.” He carefully folds the letter and places it gently to the side.
In a slick, 80's style montage Uzig suits up. He throws on the weathered garments roughly. Although they are old they fit the dwarf nicely. Even the leather boots are a good fit. Trying his best to hide his face he pulls the coat’s hood over his head despite the heat of the day. He then hoists up the armor and affixes it to his torso. It's a bit tricky to tie it up by himself but he manages to get it secured. Then he laces up the remaining shin-guards and bracers. The cleric then bends down and picks up the small club and gives it a few powerful swings. “Well lord, at least I can go down fighting if it comes to it.” It manages to fit into a leather loop sewn to the side of the belt around his armor, ready to be drawn quickly when needed. Finally he gathers up the blanket and his dried rags and tucks them away in the backpack. With a little effort he manages to get the pack around his shoulders and secure enough that it won't hinder his movements. Uzig then recites a poem.
“The holy warrior
armed and dangerous
Set off to seek his fate.
His only ally was his god
And through him
Unleashed his hate.”
The mad cleric looks down at Lucy's letter. He picks it up and goes back to the small river. He holds the parchment in the moving stream and watches it dissolve into nothing. “Many thanks, friend gnome.” Standing up once more, he looks at the horizon. “What does fate have in store for me today? Lord of Darkness, give me strength.”
In what the dwarf could only interpret as The Shadowy One deigning to bestow priceless knowledge upon his wretched follower, an unknown power courses through the dwarf...
The second constable noticed Xan's acquiescence and grunted in approval. "Looks like we won't have a problem with that elf monk, Sir Varius."
"Aye, Sir Quintinus. That's the second from this lot," said Sir Varius. He then turned to Borash and nodded, "Well, good sir, I thank you for calling us. We will take it from here. If there is any problem, we will place a bounty on the troublemakers with you."
Borash curled his lip as he looked at the four, then he grunted and left.
Sir Varius sighed. He looked weary. "What about you two?" he asked Yandy and Kaeros.
Kaeros dropped the rag onto the floor with a heavy wet splat.
He looked down at himself and then at the constables, holding his empty hands out as if to say, "Does it look like I have a choice?"
He sighed deeply.
While his current conundrum was exceptionally unappealing, a possible lengthy stay in a backwater gaol didn't seem like much of an improvement. Then again, surely the others couldn't all be in the same situation without a good reason...
He holds out his hands. "As you wish".
Sir Varius nods gratefully. He tells Sir Quintinus to lead the group and he will bring up the rear.
He then motions for you to follow Sir Quintinus, then flanks you.
As you exit the room and go into the main hall of the tavern, Vinny and Lucy look at you in disbelief. "What in the nine hells is going on?" barks Vinny. "Yer supposed ta be cleanin' yer mess!"
"I don't think they'll be doing that anytime soon, Vinny," Lucy said reluctantly as he longingly looked at Uzig. "Looks like they are headed to the gaoler's."
"Bah! A pox on the worthless lot!" spat Vinny.
The rest of the tavern hands muttered things to each other as they looked in your general direction. One pointed to Xan and whispered something to another tavern hand, whose eyes slowly widened and an incredulous grin broke on his face. A few looked at Uzig and shook their heads.
Once outside the tavern, they were met by the bright noon sun and the hustle and bustle of a busy street. The street was a hard, dirt road heavily creased with wagon tracks and horse hooves. The sides were pocked with footprints. The noise and light were a shock to the four, forcing them to squint and cover their eyes and ears.
Some people every once in a while glanced in your general direction with curiosity, but nothing more.
After walking for a few hundred meters, a shout was heard, "Ho there, Sir Varius, what rabble bring you on this fine day?"
"Palinurus Vopiscus, you old dog! Well met! Just a few drunks who outstayed their welcome at the tavern. You haven't by chance seen another foul looking stranger, have you? Dark half-elf with dark clothes?"
"So these are the four I've heard about this morrow! I do hope they haven't drunk all the wine!" Palinurus looked at Xan, then Uzig. He winked and grinned. "Looks like you two had a hell of a night!"
"Better not speak with this lot, Palinurus. We will question them soon enough," said Sir Quintinus. "Come on, you drunks. Just a bit further now."
The gaol was a white, sturdy stone and mortar building of two stories, with hardened wood reinforcing the walls at intervals. An old palisade surrounded most of it, but the part near the back, flush against the trees leading to a small wooded area looked to be in need of some repair.
The yells and cursing of certain individuals could be heard from the inside. From one of the lower windows? slits? you could see an eye glaring in your general direction.
Arriving at the gaol, the two fully armored guards saluted Sir Quintinus and Sir Varius, then went back to guarding. They barely even looked at you.
The inside, at least the entrance, was relatively clean and comfortable. It seemed that this was the main area where the townsfolk could come in with complaints or seek help. Surely the rest would be must more severe.
Sir Quintinus motions for you to follow him to another room, just off to the left of the main desk. The door is a thick, hard wooden door reinforced with steel ribs and inscribed with all sorts of runes. Perhaps shooting spells at these doors may not be such a good idea.
Inside the small room, the walls were bare and had runes inscribed here and there, on the floor, roof and bench as well. there was a small desk near the door, and a bench flush against the back wall, with room enough for maybe 5 people to sit.
Sir Quintinus points to the bench, "Alright you drunks, sit there and don't try anything. The entire gaol is covered with runes and wards, so your magic will most likely not work, or backfire." He sneered. "We are still trying to clean the last spell caster from the wall in another room. Bloody mess he left..."
He sat at the desk and brought out a thick, leather bound tome, opened it up, and lay it on the desk with a heavy thud. He then brought out a quill and dark ink. The sound of scribbles soon filled the air.
After a few brief moments, he stopped and put rested his chin on his left hand, while twirling the quill with his right. He looked at the four for a few long moments before sighing deeply and motioning to Uzig.
"You there, a cleric, yes?" His face scrunches up. "By the gods, you reek!" He fetches a piece of cloth from his person and puts it to his nose. "What's your story then? What brings you to Telás with these troublemakers?"
Uzig straightens his hair as best he can and calmly looks over to Sir Quintinus. “My name is Aculeo Bibulus and I have been on a holy pilgrimage for about a year now. I spread the word of Asturianna to those that I meet on my travels. If there is someone in need of healing or spiritual guidance I provide it to the best of my abilities. At night I sometimes partake in the local brews to ease the stress from the many charitable acts I provide during the day, such as healing the sick, helping old ladies cross the street and reading to terminally ill children.”
Uzig shuffles in his seat, giving his best smile to the constable. “I have no memory of going to the Green Crab, but I confess that I tend to drink too much on occasion. The empathetic pain I bear from those I help can be too much, so I self-soothe with alcohol. I can only pray that Asturianna has the grace to forgive this tortured dwarf. I also confess to healing the dark-elf, but I had no idea he was a man of ill repute. I thought he was just another unfortunate soul in need of healing. I hope that my actions haven't caused you too much trouble.” Uzig then gives a deep bow and holds it until the constable replies.
Rolls for persuasion: 2
Sir Quintinus scoffed, and shook his head, laughing incredulously: "You must think me a fool, dwarf, if you think you can fool me with such blatant mendacities." His voice was low, lethal and acerbic.
He stood up, a fluid, precise motion. He muttered something, raising his hands. His thumbs touched, forming a line while his index fingers leaned inward, forming a rudimentary triangle.
A few moments later, his hands glowed slightly. His eyes became hateful slits, a dark rage pulsing through them.
"You have a dark, evil aura coiled around you. You are no Asturian Cleric!" he spat. "You wretched demon! Guards, guards! Seize this one immediately!"
He turned his glare to the other three. "As for you three, I pray that you have not been corrupted by this accursed one!"
Two heavily armored guards barged in, swords and scrolls drawn.
"Take him to the Hall of Repentance. Perhaps some of the paladins can mend his soul."
Uzig sighs and speaks in a soft voice. "I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this..." He then sprints for the door, and tries to slide under the two guards to freedom.
Rolls to escape grapple: 20
Using the filth of the morning to lubricate his person, Uzig slips through their grasps and tries to make a break for his freedom.
All of the sudden, the world turns bright white and fades to grey.
"Sir Quintinus, you seem to be losing your edge," said Sir Varinus. "Good thing I was waiting out here."
Sir Varinus sheathed his sword after wiping a bit of the blood from the backside. It seemed a blow to the head was enough to knock out the crazed filthy dwarf, if only temporarily.
The two guards, embarrassed and ashamed, bowed to Sir Varinus and apologizing profusely before they bound the dwarf and dragged him to the Hall of Repentance.
Sir Varinus walked into the room where the other three were sitting, their mouths agape utterly shocked at what just happened.
"Now," said Sir Varinus. "Does anyone else wish to escape?"
"A demon. Really?" Kaeros stared at the dwarf being dragged off and then scowled incredulously at the incompetent constable.
"I'm Kaeros Pinefar. Traveled here yesterday following a clue to the whereabouts of my wife's killer."
He told an abbreviated version of that night three years ago.
His visage had darkened considerably, and he shot an accusatory look at the top constable. "I had a pendant belonging to the killer in my possession. My axe and a small pack of personal belongings as well."
He stared up at the ceiling for a second. "All gone since last night. Along with whatever hope I had of finding something worthwhile here."
He continued, his voice raising slightly. "None of us, if you can get it through your thick skulls, have any idea what happened last night. I don't even think that daft elf there drinks!" He gestured with his head toward the female elf. "Something strange is going on."
Kaeros rolls (19)+1 = 20.
Rather than enter a plea with the constables, Xan makes a rudimentary writing gesture in the air and hopes that someone will provide her with the necessary supplies. If not, she will wait patiently as she had been taught to do since birth.
A dark aura around the cleric? It didn't seem possible, but the constable didn't seem like he needed to lie about it if he wanted the dwarf locked up. Yandy cast his mind back. Was there some magic that could taint an aura like that? Could it be responsible for their current predicament?
Yandy rolls (8)+5 = 13
Kaeros thinks back upon the strange dwarf's behavior. Indeed, it wasn't normal. He was a cleric, but not of Asturianna, that was for certain. His peculiar ramblings and crazed actions seemed to be hiding something, his voice strained, as if forced.
The current situation led Kaeros to believe that they must have been poisoned or charmed by some powerful magic. Looking around, there was no way that she-elf monk would drink, much less do things that tavern wenches would do for a few shillings.
Yandy looked around, noticing many of the runes and wards. He recognized a scant few, but they gave an idea of what types of interrogations happen here. There were anti-magic wards and runes against negative energy, protection against evil and summoning enhancers. To summon what, he did not know. The dwarf clearly was not resonating any evil during the scuttle at the tavern, so why did the aura come out now? Was it due to the other runes and wards that he was not familiar with?
Sir Quintinus, clearly embarrassed by the dwarf's attempted escape, tried to calm his fury. "Wretched dwarf!" He spat, the shame clearly etched on his face. Sir Varinus motioned for Sir Quintinus to be silent and said, "You there, druid, what pendant do you speak of? If the tavern took your effects as payment, I would need for you to describe them in exquisite detail so we can identify them and see if we can obtain them."
He grabbed a quill and some ink along with a few leaflets and handed them to Xan. "Not sure what your circumstances are, if you have taken a vow of silence or what not, but if this will facilitate communication, then I pray you write. We have more leaflets if you require them."
Sir Varinus sighed again. It was a ragged, tired sigh. "Between this lot, the escaped thief, the missing children, the slaughtered cattle, the strange voices at the lake, and the pest plague happening at the general store, I am up to my ears in bureaucratic nonsense."
Sir Quintinus sighed as well. "The King doesn't seem too pleased with the way things are being run here. Perhaps another grand council? At least we can ask for more resources..."
"Aye, that would be capital. However, we know how tight the purse strings are in these parts, so we must make do with what we have."
Sir Varinus looked at the three. "I don't sense any malevolence from you three, at least not like the dwarf. I am by no means a magic caster, but I've picked up a few incantations here and there during my time and reading auras is one of them. That is why I flanked you while we were coming here."
Sir Varinus pulled up a small stool and sat, his body thumping hard, as if his leg strength gave out. He breathed in deeply, closed his eyes, and exhaled. How long had it been since he last slept?
He opened his tired eyes again and smiled bitterly, "Don't get old. There's nothing good in it." He breathed in again, picked up a small scroll and a quill. "Here is the information we have about you three from last night:"
"You were all seated in the same table, as is usual for complete strangers since the locals already claimed their usual spots. You ordered food and drink, you spoke to some people, there was a lovely lady who kept coming to your table (perhaps she was propositioning herself? not uncommon), and then your drunken antics. Then whatever happened this morrow at the tavern with Borash and now you are here."
He breathed deeply again. "Am I missing anything else, Sir Quintinus?"
"No sir," replied the other. "We just don't have enough information."
"I can't say I'm not disappointed with our information gathering resources." The old man looked at the three again and sighed. "So that's what we have. You two, monk and wizard, please enlighten us as to why you are here, what you were doing before and what you were hoping to do after."
Sir Varinus looks at Xan. While she did not have the beauty of her kind, she had a radiant aura of elegance, calmness and, if he squinted, some attractive features.
Hearing the messenger's words, Yandy's ears perk up. While following Sir Quintinus he asks:
"Pardon my inquisitiveness, but are missing children a common occurrence around these areas?"
Knowing that it could be useful in the future, Xan makes sure to hold onto the paper and pen that she was given as she rises and follows Quintinus. While she is unsure of what the situation with the dwarf may be, she knows that causing trouble now will only make the situation worse. That's not something she wants right now.
Sir Quintinus abruptly stopped and turned, his face darkened slightly, a brief flash of anger that subsided into a frustrated sadness. "No, this is a recent development. We've always had boys getting lost in the fields or forests, but they always come back within a day or two with scrapes and scratches and stories of their adventures. But this..." he sighs wearily, "This is something much more sinister. The first boy missing this season was about two moons ago. The interesting thing was, he didn't get lost in the usual place like the tall grass fields or the forest. We found certain items near the northern fields, where it is flat and you can see for miles around."
He scratched his head before continuing. "There's really not much up north, other than a few fields that lay fallow for most of the time. There are maybe a few low hills, but other than that, there are no major trade routes, roads, or pretty much anything of interest there."
Sir Quintinus threw his hands up. "We have no bloody idea where the boy is or what in the nine hells he was doing there."
"And now," he said. "And now, we have three, all missing up in the same place. We've sent riders, scouts, hell even camped out there for a while, but nothing ever looked out of place, no attacks, nothing."
He shook his head sadly. "Since we have our hands tied due to lack of resources, we can't launch an investigation to the northern fields because we still have other things to take care of." He spat. "The boys should take precedence before any of these useless requests, but we have no say in the matter."
"If only we had..." he stopped and looked at the three for what seemed an uncomfortable period of time. "The commander would probably chew me out, but I have half a mind to binding you three and having you help us. Naturally, what you find you can use to pay off your debt to Borash, and anything else should earn you some coin for your gear. Now, before I make a formal request, I'd like to hear your thoughts. Will you help us?"
Rather than waste the precious paper and ink that she only recently acquired, Xan simply bows deeply with acquiescence. It seems that helping find some lost children is a more meaningful use of her skills than cleaning spilled ale while getting her bum pinched by drunkards.
Yandy weighed his options carefully. Judging by the workload the small squadron had to grapple with, Quintinus would be in no hurry to investigate his case. What gold they might find would probably not pay even his own debt, yet alone repay whatever damages the filthy dwarf had wrought, but winning the guard's favour here could be worth far more than coin.
He nodded in acquiescence. "A sound idea. It would be wise of you to make use of whatever resources you have available".
Sir Quintinus grunts in appreciation. "Truly, I am obliged to you. Now the difficult part..."
After walking some time, with two of the three in tow, Kaeros deciding to decline the offer and leave of his own accord, seeing as he wasn't under arrest. Sir Quintinus comes to a small but well built house. The inside betrayed the clean and impeccable façade: it was utter chaos of leaflets, notes, books, binders, stationery and dirty clothes with bits and pieces of food here and there. This wasn't a house at all...
"Command...errr, Sir Varinus, I believe I have found a possible solution to our resource problem." He motions to the monk and the wizard. "Why not bind them to service and have them help with the missing boys?"
Sir Varinus' face was incredulous, but his blood shot eyes soon softened and he threw his hands up, conceding defeat. "By the nine hells, I would accept a half-dead kobold if I could get some of this wretched paperwork finished even a day faster." He let out a raspy, weary sigh. "So be it, I will take full responsibility."
Sir Varinus turned to face the two. "I will bind you to service. The ritual is rather short, but painful. This will guarantee you will not flee nor betray us. Once the ritual is finished, there is no unbinding of the ritual until you are relieved, or die." He smiled a bitter smile, pointing to the endless mountains of paperwork. "Seems death might be a more favorable outcome than dealing with this unending hell."
He went into another room, the sounds of shuffling papers and objects being moved about could be heard for a few moments. He came back with a long parchment tied with a blueish black ribbon. He untied the ribbon and the parchment unrolled slightly. Some glyphs and runes could be seen.
He unrolled the parchment on the table. It had some odd script that covered about the top half. The bottom half was curiously empty. Sir Varinus took out a short knife and took a deep breath. He muttered something, the knife grew mysteriously bright and he sliced his left hand. As the blood welled up, he laid it on the parchment.
The glyphs and runes slowly began to glow and distort, some slithering this way and that towards the bloody hand print, eventually forming a sacred circle with the familiar symbols of the Goddess of Wisdom.
He then wiped his hand and the wound mysteriously shrunk and then disappeared as if he never cut himself.
He then motioned for the two to hold out their hands. "I will bind you by blood ritual, under the power of Asturianna the Wise."
Sir Varinus waits for you to hold out your hand.
Meanwhile, back at the gaol...
1d20 +3
= (2) +3 = 5Yandy focuses on the odd script on the top half of the parchment. A significant chunk of his young life had been spent with his nose buried in research tomes, but the specifics of this religious ritual eluded him. While Varinus focused on his knife, Yandy passed his eyes over the text, trying to gain some insight into the situation.
Yandy rolls insight:
1d20+5
= (19)+5 = 24Uzig could only hear bits and pieces of muffled speech. There was something about the northern fields and meeting someone on the morrow. There was also a few flashes of white light. A spell of some sort? A lantern? A shiny object reflecting light?
Regardless, it seemed that the others would be going to investigate the next day. In the mean time, Uzig began to notice his own smell was beginning to attract a bit of unwarranted attention. Perhaps it would be best to find a bit of running water to wash away the accumulated filth.
After the binding ritual finished, Sir Quintinus nods and motions for you to follow him to the general store.
Upon exiting the house, there was a rather unusual, fetid odor coming from the bushes. "Damn merchants," muttered Sir Quintinus. "They should pick up their horses filth and sell it to the farmers."
He motioned for the others to follow him. "The commander's note is a promissory note for very basic gear. I know you'd like your own gear back, but that has been pawned and there's little I can do about it at the moment." He scratched his chin, pondering. "If you manage to solve the issue of the missing boys, perhaps I can get someone from the higher echelons to help get your gear back. After all, they would be most pleased to hear news about this incident."
It was well past noon, heading into early evening. The streets were less crowded and some shops, such as the bakery and other foodstuffs, were closing for the day. The merchant caravans were no longer taking up the road so walking was much faster than before.
After walking a few hundred meters, they arrived at a large three storied building with several smaller storage houses in the back. There were some unscrupulous and scarred heavily armed guards walking around, no doubt to welcome any thief or mischief maker.
Sir Quintinus smirked as he passed a rather large, fearsome looking orc. The orc stopped and looked at the three, snorted, and went back to his rounds.
They entered the shop where the shopkeeper, a loquacious, seemingly good-natured gnome greeted them with bright eyes and a toothy smile. "Welcome to my shop, gentlemen! Ahh, Sir Quintinus, it has been a while. Are you looking for something for yourself?"
"Well met, Iosephus Candidius, I see the gods have been most favorable to you."
"Ah, Sir Quintinus, you are much too kind. I am but a humble gnome who praises the gods. They deem me worthy of their affections."
Sir Quintinus smiled thinly. "I have a promissory note from Sir Varinus. These two need basic gear."
Sir Quintinus hands the gnome the note and then turns to the two.
"Please speak with Master Iosephus about your needs. He motions them closer and whispers, "While his last name is Candidus, he is anything but. Be wary."
He turned, nodded to the merchant and left.
Iosephus Candidus smiled. "So tell me, what needs have you?"
Uzig slunk away deeper into the forest. He found a quiet place and slumped to the ground in a pile. “Well we certainly are in a pile of sh!t now, aren't we my lord.” He cradled his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. “If I were to run, the authorities would just track me down. I need to get to the bottom of what happened last night. If I can prove my innocence perhaps they will overlook my unconventional faith.” He looked at the whistle the drow had given him with a crooked grin. “And I have other things to offer now as well.” He hid the whistle away and continued to muse. “First, I will need to reinsert myself with those fools tomorrow, but I can't very well continue on in this state.”
Uzig scratched his beard and looked up at the sky. “What to do, eh? I shall need a bath and provisions if I am to be of any use. I am no cunning thief. I can't very well steal anything without being caught immediately. I'm no woodsman either. It won't be a comfortable night and I doubt I will be able to find any running water or food for myself...and good lord, I NEED a good, strong drink.”
He turned his head to the side and was still for a moment. “What? 'To go forwards you must sometimes go backwards?' Please lord, I've not your intellect. Could you perhaps speak more plainly?” The dwarf was silent again, nodding his head. “I see... It is a bold plan, my lord. One that could end quite badly if we are unlucky. And we have had some rather bad luck as of late. But if you think it is the best course of action then I shall bow to your will, as always.”
With that the dwarf sets off back to the city. He tries to take back alleys and shadowy roads so as not to be seen. He then arrives at his destination: The Green Crab Tavern. “Welp, here goes nothin'.”
Relieved to have the opportunity to gather some supplies to make the task easier, Xan quickly scrawled a missive on a small sliver of parchment. Her requests are fairly simple; a quarterstaff, some darts and some adventuring gear. In her mind she knew she could do without most of it but it would make the task easier. Hopefully the note from Sir Varinus would cover it all.
The merchant smiled a perfect smile. "Love the monks. They don't need much!" He turned around and barked some orders at the people in the back: "One quarterstaff, a set of darts, and some adventuring gear for the elf-monk!"
He turned and smiled again at Yandy. "What about you, Master Wizard?"
While he had no intention of resorting to using it, a visible dagger would serve to ward off those looking for easy prey. Other than that, the bare necessities for this task would be some simple magical components, a spellbook and writing equipment, and whatever adventuring gear the gnomish merchant could supply them with. There was no telling what might have happened to remove all traces of the missing children so thoroughly. If another magic user was responsible then it would be foolish to risk an encounter unprepared.
In a bit of sheer luck, the foul dwarf encountered Lucy sweeping out in the back. The gnome was startled, but soon was overjoyed.
"Master Dwarf! A sight for sore eyes you are! Have you, perchance, come to pay us a little visit?" the jolly gnome inquired, his eyes glittering. The gnome looked trustworthy enough, and going by the previous encounter, perhaps fancied the dwarf.
Mayhaps this feeling could be used to Uzig's advantage?
Uzig smiles at Lucy. “Salutations, fair Lucy! Just the gnome I was looking for. Might I trouble you for a moment of your time in private? I've a proposition I wish to discuss.” The dwarf holds his hand out for a handshake.
Lucy nearly burst with joy, but then quickly tempered himself with a quick breath. "Master Dwarf! This poor gnome is at your service." He crinkled his nose a bit. "But first, may I be so rude as to suggest a bath? It is appalling that they did nothing of the sort at the gaol! Dear me, what a wretched state you are in!"
The gnome nods his head gravely. He looks around, and then pulls you to a somewhat hidden corner, away from prying eyes. While visibly uncomfortable with the reek, he does his best to remain proper. "You do seem in a spot of trouble, Master Dwarf. What can poor Lucy do for you?"
2d20k1
= (18+) = 18Xan quickly but very deliberately stows all of her gear after carefully inspecting each piece. She pays special attention to the quality of the darts and the staff; checking to ensure that they don't have any flaws that could later prove fatal. After doing so, she makes her way out onto the street to wait and see what her companion would do.
The equipment wasn't anything to show off, but considering that someone else had footed the bill he wasn't in any position to complain. The shadows were steadily growing as the day grew later. If Sir Varinus' request was going to be fulfilled then it was better to follow a warm trail. "If we head to the Northern fields we should be able to make camp before sundown. I'd feel better about our chances with someone watching my back. Do you think we can work together on this?"
While the two companions were speaking, a guard came. He bowed stiffly and said, "Sir Varinus asked me to guide you to your quarters for the night. You will be furnished with a simple hot meal and a warm bed." He smiled sadly, "While news of you helping out has reached my ears, I have no hopes for the missing children. Too much time has passed, and too little in the way of clues has come."
As he turns, he motions for you to follow him. "Please follow me."
In response to the other elf's question, Xan nods solemnly. While this search and rescue mission was not her intended purpose in the town, she would not let her new companion face the danger alone.
Realizing that it would probably be better to rest and recover in safety, she motions towards the guard and indicates that she would like to go with them. While she could certainly search in the dark while slightly injured, it would be less than ideal.
The guard nods in appreciation and motions for Yandy to follow as well.
Yandy agrees.
The two strange companions were haggard from their ordeal, still sore but thankfully the last pains of the drink finally faded from their heads. They followed the guard to the gaol where they met a younger guard who led them to a small, but comfortable looking chamber. The room was small, squarish in shape and had a relatively, if not hastily, swept wooden floor. The smell was tolerable as near the small window was a few aromatic herbs and vials to cleanse the air. On the floor was a plush but worn carpet. On the carpet was two used, but clean and comfortable looking sleeping bags. There was a small table nearby with some mugs and a canter of clear liquid, perhaps water. Next to the water was a small plate with some dried fruits and perhaps jerky. He bows his head, "My most humble apologies, honored guests, but we've had to use the bed for a medical emergency..." He shakes his head, "But it is nothing to worry the two of you about. Please rest and recover. Tomorrow you set out for the northern hills." He bows stiffly, and promptly leaves the room. He closes the door softly and his footsteps fade. The two companions gratefully wrap themselves in their respective bedding and soon welcome the warm embrace of Sleep. As they fall deeper and deeper into slumber, a strange power suddenly courses through them, only to fade away as quickly as it came.