Tiadora appears behind you as you watch the bugbear horde sweep down upon Castle Balentyne and the village of Aldencross.
"Well done. The master commends your exquisite performance. Yet there is still much to do. Follow me," She commands as she sweps towards the shore of the lake. She leads youto a ramshackle river barge Halstyn’s Folly tied to Lake Tarik’s bank.
The captain and three man crew of this shallow-bottomed barge all appear to be thoroughly under Tiadora’s control. They are certainly no threat.
“The master commands you board. You will learn more later.” Tiadora will tolerate no delay.
Accommodations are crude. There is only one cabin and Tiadora has already evicted the so-called captain and made that her own personal domain. Any suggestions of sharing are greeted with scorn and a harsh declination.
This means that you must make do with sleeping with the crew on the deck of the barge. There is a roof but no walls and at night on the lake and rivers, it can be bitterly cold.
The Folly is bound for Farholde, a three hundred mile journey through the great scar that almost cuts the isle of Talingarde in twain. The barge is sluggish making less than twenty four miles a day. That means that you have twelve days to rest and enjoy the leisurely journey.
Semirhage grimaces as she turns her face from Tiadora. 'This is the thanks I receice? Our accommodations at Branderscar were scarcely less accommodating than this.'
Mordekai spend most of the days sleeping. There is not much to do but "talk" with the new voice. "Edward, come look at this. I got one too. It's name is Oswald and it is a tiny ball of evil. Doesn't have the flare of your bird but I will make do." Mordekai pets the... thing.
Oswald mostly just flies around the ship and at the varies crew members. It knows not the peek in at Tiadora though. It seems interested in Edward and spend much of it's time watching him copy spells.
{A brief scene from the sacking, not actually recorded...}
As the fearsome four make their way through the burning streets of Aldencross, Vyllaria stops in front of a familiar building. The sounds of bugbears rampaging within draw her attention. The alchemist's shop. How fitting, this place more than any deserves to be burned.
A shout comes from within, followed by a crash and a bugbear's whooping. Without hesitating, Vyllaria dashes through the broken door hanging askew on its abused hinges, and up the stairs to the alchemist's laboratory.
Two bugbear looters have found and cornered the frightened alchemist. One holds its face in its paws, bits of glass caught in its fur. The alchemist lobs a phial at the other bugbear, who swings his club to deflect it. The phial shatters on contact, releasing a cloud of dust all around the beast. Blinded, the beasts roar in frustration, and begins tossing aside tables and benches, trashing the lab. Seeing his chance at escape, the alchemist ducks the swinging arms of his attackers and bolts for the door. What he fails to notice is the shadow just beyond the doorway - the shadow that sticks out a foot to trip him as he passes. He crashes hard onto the wooden floor.
Vyllaria is upon him before he can turn about. She pins him to the floor by stabbing her sabers through his calves and into the floorboards. In agony, the alchemist cries out, and is cut off as she steps on his neck, crushing his windpipe. "Looks like you are all out of tricks now, aren't you?" she says, looking down on him. "You caused me a lot of grief by making me look incompetent in front of my allies. I told myself I would repay you for that, and so I have come to see you burned, along with your shop.
"Tell me: how does it feel to have your life's work undone like this?" The man tries to say something but manages nothing more than a few painful gasps. "I've always assumed I would end up rotting in some lord's prison. Perhaps hung for treason or conspiracy, sentenced to death for crimes against the crown. I expected I would meet my end at the hands of someone who had a very justifiable reason to want me dead, and the power to see it done. And I expected it would happen because my mission put me in direct conflict with many such persons. How very unfortunate it must be for you then..."
Vyllaria shifts her stance so that the man can see her, looking up with eyes full of fear and hatred. "You don't even know who I am. You don't know what is happening. Your puny mind cannot comprehend the magnitude of your peril past your own imminent end. Your shop has been attacked by monsters, and your village burns. All about you is chaos, and your world as you know it is ending. So before I condemn you to the afterlife, allow me to enlighten you. I am an agent of evil. Your village burns because it is the will of that evil. And you will die, not because you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but because I find myself annoyed at your pathetically, meddlesome existence. Do you have any final words?"
The alchemist, to his credit, manages to choke out one final word of retaliation. "B*tch..." In one clean motion Vyllaria pulls out one of her Wakizashi and slices through his neck, cleanly severing his head. The body twitches momentarily, so she kicks it down the stairs.
A decidedly loud crash pulls her attention back to the lab. The two bugbears seem to be recovering from their blindness. Vyllaria regards their clumsily bumbling forms with distaste. "I've always abhorred your kind," she says mildly to neither of them in particular. Before either can identify the source of the comment she reduces them to ribbons. She then gathers up what few pieces of equipment remain undamaged, empties the contents of a barrel of pitch, and drops a torch on her way out the door. She takes one final glance at the shop as she rounds the corner on the next street. Red flames and thick black smoke already billow from the upper windows.
Having got her closure, she rejoins her allies on the road where they take in the majesty of the havoc they have wrought.
* * *
Boats, Vyllaria thinks to herself as the barge gets underway, why must we always be travelling by water? Could we not purchase a cart and travel by road? Even walking would be preferable to me...
She spends her time fiddling with the equipment salvaged from the alchemist's shop, and begins distilling a toxin her father once showed her how to make. The effort takes some time, but the focus required helps take her mind off of the unpleasantness of the voyage.
Edward was hoping for some time for research - he has several pressing questions that may very well take weeks of study to answer - but silently acquiesces to Tiadora's commands.
The first day, Edward gathers up useful magical reagents from the items the party acquired from Balentyne. He delineates a small area on the deck of the barge, politely yet forcefully requesting that he be left undisturbed. Over the next eight hours, he performs rituals to call for Archaeros, the thrush who was his former familiar.
For the majority of the journey, Edward is barely seen. He constructs a crude workshop from crates and sequesters himself inside. Scarcely eating, he works at imbuing items with magical power - a process he had long studied but lacked, until recently, the might to perform. His evenings are spent scribing spells into the magical spellbook he creates on the first four days, working until he collapses into the pile of blankets he calls a bed.
"Edward, come look at this. I got one too. Its name is Oswald and it is a tiny ball of evil. Doesn't have the flair of your bird, but I will make do."
Edward mumbles something unintelligible, not looking up from his work. He permits Oswald to watch as long as it doesn't get in the way.
On the eleventh day of travel, he finally leaves the 'workshop' for dinner. Stretching his cramped limbs, he seems tired, but pleased.
"I took the liberty of creating some useful magical trinkets for all of you."
On the final day, he sleeps in, finishes his personal crafting, then packs up for the next stage of their journey.
"I wish to ask Tiadora about our next mission. Would anyone care to accompany me?"
Vyllaria accepts the new magic items from Edward without a word.
"I wish to ask Tiadora about our next mission. Would anyone care to accompany me?"
"I will accompany you. I am curious what the master has in store for us next."
Edward and Vyllaria go to speak with Tiadora, accompanied by anyone else who is interested.
Edward begins by asking what the new mission is.
"I wish to ask Tiadora about our next mission. Would anyone care to accompany me?"
Semirhage looks up at Edward, clearly bored of travel on their ship. "Very well, I hope our mistress is interested in talking. If I have to listen to any more of these dullards," she says and gestures vaguely towards a group of sailors, "I'll go insane."
Semirhage follows Edward and Vyllaria.
Mordekai watches as all his friends go towards the lone cabin to question Tiadora. He figures they should get off of their lazy buts and go join them. Wouldn't want Semrhage going insane or maybe they do. She might be more fun that way but don't fix what isn't broken. "Oswald, keep an eye on the crew while we are talking. Don't want them getting lazy while we are not watching them and make this trip take Even LONGER! I haven't killed something in a bloody while."
Oswald nods and flies off. It finds a good spot and carefully watches every crew member at his master's command.
Every night of the journey, the barge anchors within sight of a village or keep. During these stops, Tiadora sequesters herself in her cabin.
However, you manage to catch her in a good mood during the day.
"What is it?" She asks, not unkindly.
"We are wondering if you would be able to shed some light on our next mission. What awaits us in Farholde?"
"We shall be bringing Talingarde to its knees. The master will reveal more when he is ready."
"Very well." Edward's mouth gives the smallest of twitches.
Edward leaves and packs up his equipment, ready to move on to whatever awaits them in Farholde.
On the twelfth night, Tiadora summons you to her cabin.
“The master is here and commands you attend him,” Tiadora says grimly. “He’s in the cabin.”
Cardinal Thorne is a devilishly handsome bald man clad in black and burgundy robes. He wears black gloves and openly displays his silver unholy symbol of the Lord of Hell. He sports a wicked and knowing grin.
"You have served me faithfully, my ninth knot, and I have rewarded you both in treasure and vengeance. Thanks to your efforts, the Fire-Axe has been unleashed. Even now he writes his name in blood across the Borderlands.
“Three battles have been fought and three victories won. The villages of Ambryl and Tarrington Fields lie sacked. The fortress of Lorringsgate is in ruins. Each of you did your part in seeing these triumphs come to fruition. Do not think I have forgotten that.
“But our work is not yet done. Talingarde has not yet acquiesced to our unholy master nor tasted the full measure of our vengeance. So I have another mission for you. Tomorrow this barge will dock in Farholde, the northernmost town in all the realm. Farholde is a backwater of no real significance. Its lord has already left the place hoping for glory in the war. But it does border the Caer Bryr (pronounced care-briar), the largest unmapped forest on the
entire island.
“Hidden within the Caer Bryr is the Horn of Abaddon, an ancient temple once occupied by a particularly loathesome death cult called ‘The Sons of the Pale Horseman’. Almost eighty years ago the first Darian king, Markadian I called the Victorious overthrew the Horn and destroyed the Sons. No great loss, honestly.
“But what the Victor found within the temple is why we are here. He defeated a daemon prince called Vetra-Kali Eats-the-Eyes. So terrified of this monstrosity was the king, that he had the priests of Mitra craft a great silver seal to forever forbid the daemon from returning to our plane of existence. The seal remains to this day.
“I have learned the truth about this daemon prince. I have learned what the Victor feared. Vetra-Kali is an archdeacon in service to the lord of pestilence. This immortal monster could create a plague so virulent that it will bring Talingarde to its knees.
“When the Victor attacked, the Daemon Prince was close to unleashing his masterpiece upon the world -- a pestilence known as the Tears of Achlys (pronounced ACKLis). I am uncertain of the specifics of this plague but if anything could terror in the heart of the Victor, then I want it. The Tears of Achlys will be our poisoned dagger into the heart of Talingarde.
“I already have agents in the great cities of this kingdom. With this pestilence, they could deliver blight and death to the very center of the realm. Caught between the twin storms of the Fire-Axe and Vetra-Kali’s gift, we shall bring ruin to Talingarde. This gift you shall bring to me.
“It will not be easy. I have already lost one band of followers on this errand. I sent the fourth knot to find the Horn of Abaddon. They succeeded at that at least – revealing to me that it was concealed within a great spire of stone less than a day’s ride from Farholde.
“But then they vanished. I have heard no more from the elven ranger Aiden Kael since. He knew the Caer Bryr well so no normal hazard would defeat him. Perhaps the Horn of Abaddon is guarded. I cannot say. But it matters not! The Tears of Achlys must be mine!
“I am undeterred by this setback. Where one knot failed, two will succeed. I will also send my seventh knot – the Knot Hibernal led by Elise Zadaria. I task you with finding the Horn and calling forth Vetra-Kali. Elise and her knot will aid you. Elise proved herself a capable assassin in our last venture. The seventh knot will remain in Farholde and see that anyone who tries to find the Horn and interfere with your work meets an unhappy end. Thus, you will have time to do what must be done.
“There is another who may be able to aid you. Once a thriving cult of Asmodeus existed in Farholde. It was led by a half-elvish noble – the Baron Arkov Vandermir. He is treacherous and decadent, but wealthy and well-connected. Tiadora will introduce you before she departs.
“I know not what aid the Baron can provide, but his family is old and long has dwelt in Farholde. Never trust him but know this – he’s afraid of me and with good reason. If he does try anything remind him that you are in Farholde on my behalf. That should keep him in line.
“Find the Horn. Find the seal and shatter it. Call Vetra-Kali back to our world. Bind him to your will and force service from the monster. And then bring his gift to me. Can you do this, my knot? Have I found servants with might and will enough to see this task done?”
"My lord, a more worthy set of servants cannot be found. We shall succeed. Semirhage laughs wickedly, "Asmodeus will rule over Talingarde, and bring the holy Mitrans to their knees."
"Of course." Edward bows respectfully.
"Have you any questions?" Thorne asks.
"No, my lord. Let us proceed," Semirhage replies.
Thorne nods, and hands you a clay seal.
"If you recover the Tears or need to report anything to me, break this seal. I will send Tiadora to wherever you break it within an hour or two. Now go with the blessings of the Prince of Hell and see this mission done!"
The next day, the barge docks in Farholde. Tiadora informs you that she has already contacted Baron Vandermir and arranged for you to have dinner with him tomorrow night. "Best to find something presentable to wear,” she sneers.
You are now free to go looking for supplies and various other things.
"Best to find something presentable to wear,”
Vyllaria just frowns and mutters to herself, "I dislike wearing dresses. One should always be prepared for fight or flight. Dresses just make you trip up."
She gives one final parting look at the barge and hopes it sinks while they are ashore. May you rot in a soggy hell, you miserable piece of flotsam.
"Good thing we stole those fancy clothes way back. Time to dress up."
"I dislike wearing dresses. One should always be prepared for fight or flight. Dresses just make you trip up."
"Then wear tight pants and a short shirt over top. Best of both worlds. Get some nice flat high boots and you have yourself a feminine but also functional outfit. Ah, I could talk about fashion forever. Anyways, where should we start? Get ourselves a room, change and then explore the town? We are not meeting the Baron till tomorrow evening so we have time to kill."
"Then wear tight pants and a short shirt over top. Best of both worlds. Get some nice flat high boots and you have yourself a feminine but also functional outfit. Ah, I could talk about fashion forever."
"Need I remind you I spent several years devoting my time to political espionage? I was referring to the one who might actually prefer silly frills..." she casts a sidelong glance at Semirhage.
"Anyways, where should we start? Get ourselves a room, change and then explore the town? We are not meeting the Baron till tomorrow evening so we have time to kill."
"Agreed, I could go for some murder. Perhaps we could visit an armory and pick up some new weapons and give them a test? There's bound to be a tavern somewhere with at least one too many dwarven patrons..."
"I've got some scrolls to prepare, but that won't take long. It mostly taxes the mind. Perhaps I can also conduct some research on our goal - there may be records of this Vetra-Kali somewhere."
Edward goes out to look for some more magical ink, as well as any scrolls that may interest him for his collection of spells.
"Need I remind you I spent several years devoting my time to political espionage? I was referring to the one who might actually prefer silly frills..." she casts a sidelong glance at Semirhage.
Semirhage sashays marvellously over to Vyllaria, accentuating every movement in her tight dress.
"Hah! Any effort to dress alluringly would be entirely lost on you. That sour pucker to your eyes is most unfortunate. I thought elves aged gracefully, how I hate to be wrong!" she gloats, disdainfully appraising Vyllaria's outfit. Then her face turns serious, "At least make an effort to look less of a simpleton, our success depends on the Baron's trust and information."
At the stall advertizing magical goods, Edward finds several things: A scroll of remove fear, a scroll of remove disease, a scroll of decompose corpse, and the town gossip.
"Before Lord Welshire left, he had a priest of Mitra conjure up an angel to guard the town. If anyone gives us trouble, that angel will show ‘em what for." The excitable halfling brags happily, cheerily waiting for the wizard to make a purchase.
Edward drops his jaw in (feigned) amazement. "An angel? Incredible! I've never seen an angel before! Have you seen it? Where is it? What does it look like? Does it have wings and glowing eyes? Ooh, does it have a great big sword, and a shining halo?"
Edward waits until the conversation is done to pick up the scroll of decompose corpse.
"Oh, I have, I have!" He babbles. "It's got great big wings of fire, and wields a sword of arcing void! Its halo is a field of stars, and its voice is lightning. I've heard it only appears to the pure of heart, or in times of need!"
The dwarf two stalls down makes a 'sipping' gesture, drawing your eyes.
"You could see it too! It's been seen close to the Church, by the Pug and Chain."
The dwarf rolls his eyes.
The midget keeps blathering on. "Anyway, I'm offering a deal today. Buy two scrolls, and get the second half price-Not including scrolls of higher potency, caster proficiency not guaranteed."
"Wow!" Edward exclaims, (apparently) flabbergasted. "Evildoers beware! Wings made out of fire? That's some fancy magic, there. Trust me, I'm a wizard!"
"Anyway, I'm offering a deal today. Buy two scrolls, and get the second half price-Not including scrolls of higher potency, caster proficiency not guaranteed."
Edward graciously declines, buying just the scroll of decompose corpse.
Afterwards, Edward surreptitiously walks over to the dwarf's stall.
"You don't believe in the angel either?" Edward asks conspiratorially. "His story sounds doubtful enough - 'its voice is lightning' - what is that even supposed to mean?"
The dwarf snickers softly. "Dixum got a little drunk last week, and someone might have had him on a bit. I'm Tarbas."
Tarbas is the owner of a mithralwork stall. All his fine goods are made of the metal, including manacles, chain, pots, cutlery sets, and a large ritual cauldron. "Dixum's a believer...of many things..."
Tarbas chuckles again. "I think Mocar was pranking him, bless his little soul."
"Mocar? Who is that?"
Edward looks over the wares and compliments Tarbas on their quality, and regrets that he lacks the funds to purchase any at the moment.
"Agreed, I could go for some murder. Perhaps we could visit an armory and pick up some new weapons and give them a test? There's bound to be a tavern somewhere with at least one too many dwarven patrons..."
"Sounds like a good idea." Mordekai starts wondering around the town trying to see if he can find an armoury. "Actually V, I have been meaning to ask you something. While it is not that I am disliking the weapon that I am currently using, it is just that it is somewhat... brutish. I had this whole reaper thing going and I liked it but now I got this great sword and it is losing it's appeal. Does your kind know how to use those beautiful curved blades like other elves? Now I know that I am a brute but it does't mean that I wouldn't like to use something with a bit more... class to it. Something with a touch of elegance. Have any idea where I could find one?"
Tarbas snorts quietly. Morcar's the innkeep's boy. Can be a right hellion, he can." His eye twinkles mischievously. "With the right support, that is."
As the terrible four peruse the town, Vyllaria activates her Iron circlet, adopting the skin tone of her 'fairer kin' so as not to seem entirely out of place.
On the suggestion of her teammates she finds a local tailor and purchases a slender gown of black silk with delicate lace sleeves, to wear at the banquet with the Baron that evening. She also visits the alchemist's shop to pick up reagents for her new-found hobby.
"Sounds like a good idea." Mordekai starts wandering around the town trying to see if he can find an armoury. "Actually V, I have been meaning to ask you something. While it is not that I am disliking the weapon that I am currently using, it is just that it is somewhat... brutish. I had this whole reaper thing going and I liked it but now I got this great sword and it is losing it's appeal. Does your kind know how to use those beautiful curved blades like other elves? Now I know that I am a brute but it does't mean that I wouldn't like to use something with a bit more... class to it. Something with a touch of elegance. Have any idea where I could find one?"
What is he blathering about, some kind of ancestral weapon that "my people" use with a curven blade and- oh... Vyllaria realizes Mordekai is referring to the ancestral arms of the elven peoples. While she herself has never held one, she does recognize its description. And seeing as she is trying to impersonate a proper elf who would know of such things, she does not bother to correct him. "Well, an elven smith might be the place to start," she says, "such a weapon is uncommonly used by other races. I myself have my own pair of curved blades, but I doubt these are what you seek?" she says referring to her recently acquired sawtooth sabers. "Your preference of tool seems to be of the two-handed variety."
"Those are a bit to short to be the one that I am looking for. Those do have their own special charm though. They have a fierce edge combined with a touch of an elegant curve. It fits you perfectly my dear. However not for me. I am looking for the large one that requires two hands and has a longer handle. Maybe the Baron knows where one is. He is an elf right or half, doesn't matter. Anyways, you wanted to kill the annoying short ones right? Let us head to the Inn to hopefully meet up with the rest of the group and find some trouble."
Mordekai will take a long meandering route to the inn. Looking around for any shops that might have what he seeks but expecting not to find it.
On their way through the shops, Vyllaria and Mordekai pick up a few rumours.
"The Baron Vandermir is the most generous man I’ve ever met. It’s because of him this town has an orphanage."
"Lorringsgate’s ... gone! Can you believe it? First Balentyne and now Lorringsgate! Can anyone stop these monsters?"
"Lord Welshire has taken the army and gone to join the war. What if monsters from the Caer Bryr attack? We’re defenseless!"
"Hear that V, apparently we do good work."
Mordekai makes his way to the Inn, slightly sad that he didn't find the weapon he was looking for but he didn't expect to find it easily. It is more fun if it is not easy. At the Inn he waits for the others before telling them of the rumours that he and V heard around town. "The army being taken out of town is the most interesting one. The town being being defenceless, well, that almost makes it to easy. Edward, have any fun ideas? Maybe the Baron has some ideas for us as well."
Tarbas snorts quietly. Morcar's the innkeep's boy. Can be a right hellion, he can." His eye twinkles mischievously. "With the right support, that is."
Edward gives a knowing smiles and excuses himself. He takes a final look around the city for a wand of infernal healing, purchasing it if possible.
He heads to the inn, where Vyllaria and Mordekai find him secretly observing Morcar, the innkeeper's son.
"The army being taken out of town is the most interesting one. The town being being defenceless, well, that almost makes it to easy. Edward, have any fun ideas? Maybe the Baron has some ideas for us as well."
"Hardly surprising that the army is gone. I'd expect large portions of Talingarde's military to be occupied with the bugbear invasion," Edward murmurs quietly. "Our task is not in this city, but in Caer Bryr. Do not lose focus yet, Mordekai."
Edward carefully places a slight emphasis on the final sentence, in hopes Mordekai will understand the veiled message.
Unfortunately, Wands of Infernal Healing are in short supply here.
The spell reveals that there is a moderate aura of transmutation about the child.
Mordekai is slightly annoyed at Edward's defection of his question but stops to think about it.
'I like cheese.'
Reaver was no help as always. It takes him a second to realize what Edward is doing. Slowly Mordekei turns to focus on the child that Edward is checking out. "Edward, what are you planning?" He asks quietly. "Need help or do you have it? I might need to go potion shopping.
Edward whispers a rapid-fire response.
"That boy is either under a transmutation effect, or is in possession of a magical item. Fairly strong too. I spoke to a halfling who claimed to see an angel, then a dwarf who claimed it was a prank involving this boy. I suspect that the dwarf played a role as well. It could be harmless, but with the persistent magical effect I am suspicious."
"I don't think I require assistance at this point," he continues in a normal tone. "I think that it can wait until after our meeting with the Baron."
Semirhage does her hair in preparation for meeting the Baron. She sculpts it magnificently.
After a few minutes, you notice the child pull out a screwdriver and start loosening one of the barstools.
He snickers a few times, and moves off stealthily.
The item in hand is a Traveler's Any-tool. Who could have given the child such a thing?
That evening, you rendezvous with Tiadora. She is bedecked brilliantly in all white, looking like a travelling noble on the way to her wedding. She escorts you through the bustling dock city of Farholde.
She takes you to the nicest part of town, a gently sloping hill called Calliver’s Green. This is a gated community and she approaches the guard confidently. “Baron Vandermir is expecting us,” is all she says.
“Of course, my lady. This way,” the somewhat nervous guard answers after consulting a list.
The list reads, “Expect a lady in white and her retinue. Be polite. She has powerful friends. --V.”
There are only six manors in this neighborhood and Tiadora leads your group to what is arguably the most impressive and opulent of them. The front door is secured by two guards wearing armor and livery. The guards are polite but firmly insistent that weapons are collected. “No stranger may go before the Baron so armed.”
The livery is a variation on the heraldry of House Barca, the royal line deposed by the current Darian regime.
The livery marks the guards as servants of the Baron of Westell and Mir, farming towns south of Farholde.
You are greeted at the door by a formal butler and attended by a small squadron of servants who offer them brandy and hors d’oeuvres. The brandy is sublime and the hors d’oeuvres are a selection of tasty little beef skewers and crunchy spicy crayfish puffs. Finally, you get to meet the Baron himself.
Baron Arkov Vandermir is a handsome half-elf dressed in burgundy and white. He looks quite young, even boyish, but he is more than a century old. His eyes betray a calculating, wicked soul.
Once dinner is served and the servants are dismissed, the Baron becomes frank. “You come to me as beggars, the last remnants of a forbidden faith. You will promise me much, of that I have no doubt. But all that I am likely to earn from helping you is the inquisitor’s pyre. Tell me, why should I help the likes of you?”
"Ah, it seems he has a traveller's any-tool, possibly given to him by the dwarf. The boy is of no concern to us at the moment."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Beggars? Hardly." Edward allows a bemused smile to form on his face. "We are not the end of an old era, but the beginning of a new one. Even now, our master's plans come to fruition. The bugbear invasion is but the start."
"Your continued allegiance to Thorn will no doubt benefit you more than refusal. After Talingarde is brought to its knees, it will need strong leaders to rebuild it from the ashes. Your wealth and birth would put you in a most advantageous position, free from our current Darian rulers."
That's right, I should think we are powerful... worm. Vyllaria makes a point of lifting her chin a little higher in front of the guard.
As the hors d'ouevres are passed around, Vyllaria curtly declines the beef, but samples of the crayfish.
Sadly, Vyllaria's time on the surface had to be marred by a stint in prison, else she might have had enough time to uncover more information regarding the Darian dynasty. Thankfully, Edward seems to have picked up on what she misses.
Semirhage purrs at the Baron, "Were you always such a pessimist, Baron Vandermir? You know the Mitrans are weak and pitiful bygones, we are the new power on this land. Surely you tire of curtailing your desires to stay beneath the radar of the righteous. What we offer you is the freedom to rule however you choose."
"All we require of you is a safe-house from which to begin our operations and the best map you can secure of the Caer Bryr. We will make clear any further needs should an unforeseen difficulty arise."
"There might be some risk involved but the rewards that can be offered are worth your gamble. Cardinal Thorne personally send us on this mission and we will see it through. You know him and you know he rewards those that serve his cause. It is in all our best interest to aid each other. You aid us, we aid you."
The Baron contemplates your words, and seems to favour you. A stark change from when he first sat down, to be sure.
"You have many good points, Sirs and Madam." He pauses thoughtfully. "You may indeed return here when necessary, but I cannot afford to have you seen coming and going. There is a small shack at the bottom of the hill, and in it is a tunnel leading to the basement. Make use of it as needed. All I ask is that you respect my home, and that you not bring trouble to my door. If you have need of a fence, I can arrange for one. However, I can do little more than that. Your mission is your own."
Tiadora meets you at your room in the inn, presenting you with another clay tablet.
"“Break it when you need to speak with the Master. Be sure not to waste his time. He can be most unforgiving about that. The Seventh Knot is already close at hand. They arrive tomorrow on a river barge named 'The Lucky Lady’. You should probably meet them and come up with a plan for seeing our master’s will done. It matters not to me of course. Not my problem. Goodbye, dearest, and good luck."
The next day, the Seventh Knot arrives by ship. Elise Zadaria, the leader of the Knot, already has her orders.
"It is my intention in the next few months to have spies set up in every inn, tavern and anywhere else adventurers and explorers might congregate. When you do find the Horn of Abaddon, contact me. For those groups I can’t personally dispatch, I’ll send a messenger with any information I can gather.”
Edward asks if Baron Vandermir or the town's cult of Asmodeus is able to procure a wand of infernal healing.
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Edward puts the clay tablet in his handy haversack, where it should be safe.
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"It is my intention in the next few months to have spies set up in every inn, tavern and anywhere else adventurers and explorers might congregate. When you do find the Horn of Abaddon, contact me. For those groups I can’t personally dispatch, I’ll send a messenger with any information I can gather."
"Thank you. We plan to being our search shortly - we still have some brief preparations to make before we leave."
Edward is sure to introduce Archaeros to Elise, in case he needs to send a message.--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later, in private with the others:
"I think we are nearly prepared. I could spend more time scribing scrolls, but I believe I have the minimum necessary."
"The Horn should be within a day's journey, according to the fourth knot before their disappearance. I will acquire supplies suitable for a longer journey, as I am uncertain how long we will need to search for. In the meantime, I suggest we see if anyone knows where Aiden Kael and the rest of the fourth knot went - even a general direction will drastically cut down our time searching."
Edward buys 24 day's worth of trail rations, four tents, and parchment. If anyone asks, he claims to be mounting an expedition to map Caer Bryr.
He stores the rations and parchment in his handy haversack, along with his tent.
Mordekai asks around the town to see if anyone know where the fourth knot went. He also makes a mental note to not allowing Edward free run of their money bags again. He will have to keep that man's spending in check. Though he did buy stuff that they should need.