Roger doesn't take his eyes off of Thom while talking to Kytes. "Old acquaintance. We kind of ran in the same circles."
Liamae keeps a smile on her face as she waits to see how Roger's bluff plays out. She's ready to act if things go south.
"Hehe," Thom chuckles to himself as he vigorously rubs his smooth shaven head with a palm of his hand.
"Tat's a funny story tere Roger. You see, it's funny 'cause I'm te one who was ordered to burn down tat Grease Pit you was workin' in. You remember tat dump? Seein' as how your still sittin' here livin' and breathin' when your s'posed to be DEAD... I tink Stirge is gonna be mighty happy wit me when I drag you in kickin' and screamin'."
A split second takes an eternity to roll by as Thom let's his words register. With his eyes locked with Roger's, he commands "Grab 'im!"
The moment the words leave Thom's mouth, Liamae gracefully rises from her seat and takes a few steps away. "Really, now, there's no need for all of that! Perhaps a good bonk on the the head will set you straight!"
She speaks an arcane word and gestures, causing and empty tankard on the table to fly at the bald halfling.
Before he can understand what’s happening, Thom gets whacked on the head from a flying tankard. He quickly looks around, “Ouch! Who threw tat!? You’ll get your’s yet!”
Remembering his current objective, Thom grins maliciously at Roger, gives his thumb a quick lick for luck, and swings a fist for the other halfling.
Maybe it’s the recent head trauma, or Roger’s better fortune, but Thom’s punch swings wild, connecting with nothing but thin air and throwing the bald halfling off balance.
"Ack!" Roger shrieks as Thom's fist comes within feet of his head. He quickly stands up, taking advantage of Thom's lack of balance to get himself into a more defensible position. Moving around the corner of the bar, he mutters a quick incantation and coats Thom in a slippery solution, hoping to make him fall. "You always were a grease ball, Tommy-time you get a taste of your own medicine!" While his enemy is distracted, he looks around the bar, trying to find anything that could be used as a weapon.
Thom remains standing for now.
Iagon looks around with wild eyes as assailants seem to come from every angle. He watches his new friends in admiration - no doubt this was not their first brawl. Knowing no better or perhaps too new to this to think beyond a simple solution, Iagon hauls in his powers, focusing as he'd taught himself to do.
We was shocked now, at how easily it came...one tragedy had befallen his family, he'd thought he'd never reach out for it again. But here...here he could help his friends with it. That's no evil power, at least in his book.
Unfortunately, the wooden furniture suffers a bit as he telekinetically launches large, blunt pieces of it at his foes.
Kytes pauses for a brief moment to take stock. He was pretty sure the flying furniture was his friends' doing. He was un-enthused that they had struck first, though it wasn't a significant violation of honor as Thom's violent intent was made abundantly clear. He was also quite impressed at his new companion's talents! Magic was beyond him, but he was at least glad they could protect themselves.
Hoping to end things before it became an all-out brawl, Kytes opts for restraint. He approaches Thom from his flank and reaches towards the halfling with his powerful arms:
Iagon sends a shower of splinters flying into the face of the thug next to him, but most of them fly past harmlessly, the rest the thug is easily able to block with his arm. He brushes the wooden shards off his leather armor and steps up to Iagon, taking a swing with bare fist.
He connects and punches Iagon square in the back.
Seeing Kytes go after Thom, the other thug moves up to take on the half-orc from his flank.
He, too, is able to connect, but just barely, bringing his fists down on the back of Kyte's head.
As the brawl breaks out, the other patrons around you scatter to get out of the way, a few of them make it out the door. However, the red caped noble stands and shouts, "Protect the Marquis' men! Apprehend that halfling!"
Llano too stands and motions to the bouncer to move in. The musicians step up and seem ready to join in as well. The other two nobles decide to sit this one out, but start placing their bets.
"Yes, protect the marquis' man! I think this is a good plan!" Liamae says as the situation escalates. With a thought, another tankard of ale flies across the room at Thom, but it whizzes past the halfling. She smiles and casually strolls to the other side of the bar, taking cover.
Thom, having ducked both Kyte's grapple as well as another flying mug sees the tide shift against him. He pulls a carefully hidden dagger out of his boot and points it at Kytes. "Come at me again big guy!"
He then tries to dive underneath the table to escape.
He's nimble enough to move before Kyte's or Iagon, both being assailed from behind, can react, and crawls safely out the other side of the table.
Oof! Iagon lets loose a "whuff" of air as the heavy fist hits him. He staggers slightly under the blow, even as he chides himself for getting into a bar brawl with a heavy handed thug - this kind of fighting was not really his thing. Not that any kind was, but....he shakes his head to get back into the game, and grits his teeth against the pain as he steps back slightly. Once again, he calls upon the very substance of the wooden furniture and assails the thug with splinters and chunks of broken off wood.
Roger looks around wildly for something that could help him. He calls to the barmaid. "You got any knives or anything here? I'm a sitting duck!"
He searches the bar he's in front of for something that could be used for a weapon, hoping his luck will be on his side for now.
"Psst..."
Roger hears a whisper coming from behind him. When he turns to look, there's Toddy peeking out from the kitchen door.
"Here ya go cutie. Be careful!" She slips a kitchen knife out to him.
Roger winks at Toddy as he takes the knife. "Thanks, darlin'. Appreciate it."
After accepting the dagger, Roger sidles over a bit and stabs at the thug.
He blinks in surprise as the knife blade bends instead of cutting like it's supposed to. "Uhh...Toddy, think you gave me one of the defective knives..."
Inspired by Liamae's drinkware assault, the other barmaid hurls a full tankard at the thug engaged with Iagon.
Her shot sails well overhead. She decides it's best for her to duck and take cover behind the bar.
Llano draws his rapier and moves across the room in one quick motion. "That's enough of you!" he shouts at Thom as he swipes with his agile blade.
Even though Thom is on his hands and knees, the thin rapier isn't enough to get through his leather armor.
The bouncer is quick to run up and deliver a swift kick to the crawling halfling.
But somehow, Thom gets by unscathed.
Meanwhile, the halfling cantor claps his hands and stomps his feet and begins a song of great heroism. Suddenly, you all feel a bit more courageous.
Moving in time with the song, the dancer steps up and pronounces an arcane incantation on the villainous halfling.
The untouchable Thom shakes it off.
Finally, the red caped noble picks up his longsword and moves into position to flank the thug with Kytes.
Taking advantage of the red-caped noble's assistance, but hoping to end this without anyone skewered on the end of a blade, Kytes delivers a swift punch in an effort to knock the thug unconscious.
The thug can't help but laugh at Roger's pathetic attempt at an attack, which gives Kytes the perfect window to clock him straight on the jaw. He takes it in stride and swings right back.
Tit for tat.
Seeing as how Iagon isn't really a threat, and seeing as how his boss is on the floor surrounded, the thug steps around the table towards the bouncer and tries to knock him out.
But the bouncer's studded leather absorbs the blow.
Liamae walks over to Iagon and touches his shoulder. "You alright? We need to put these hooligans in their place!" She gestures, and another tankard flies at Thom.
With all the rapiers and boots and flying tankards wizzing by too close for comfort, Thom decides he's in over his head. With his dagger he takes a stab at Llano and then tries to roll back under the table for some extra cover.
His attack misses, and both Llano and the bouncer are quick enough to take a swing before Thom reaches safety.
Thom gets by with just a scratch.
Iagon glances at the somehow invincible halfling and shakes his head. We may have bitten off more than we can chew with this one...not like they gave us a choice.
He bristles at the thug's discounting him, and takes two steps down to get a better line on the man's back. He enacts his powers once again to hurl chunks of wood at the thug's unprotected back.
Seeing as he has no better options, Roger shrugs and lashes out again with his broken knife. He stops maintaining his Luck, letting it slowly run out for a few more seconds.
Apparently he's just straight up never held a knife before in his life.
Iagon’s blast misses its mark, and Roger’s crooked kitchen knife is again stopped by the thug’s studded leather.
The red headed barmaid hurls another mug at the thug engaged with her coworker.
This time her aim is true and the mug smacks the back of his head, frothy ale splashes all around and gets in his eyes.
Behind Roger, the kitchen doors swing open and Toddy runs out screaming like a banshee. Armed with a hot and greasy frying pan, she takes a swing at the other thug.
But she’s no warrior, and her strike has no effect through his armor.
Llano chases Thom and tries to stab at him under the table.
His rapier blade strikes true and pierces through Thom’s shoulder. The halfling lets out a yelp and passes out from the pain.
After the thug he’s fighting takes a hit from one of many mugs flying about, the bouncer seizes the moment and throws a punch.
But his swing is unsteady and he misses.
The cantor continues his song of bravery while he aims an incantation at the thug.
The dancer switches targets and likewise aims an incantation at the thug.
Unlike his ally, he’s able to shake it off.
With his target before him now dazed, the noble tries to clonk him over the head with the hilt of his sword. “Take them alive!” he shouts.
But he is too busy shouting to coordinate his blow and misses.
Roger's eyes widen as he sees Thom get knocked out. "Don't let him die! It'll be so much worse for us if he gets killed!"
Kytes shakes his head sharply in an attempt to focus himself. He'd taken a couple good lumps, and he knew another solid hit would put him out as quick as a torch thrown in a lake.
But he had to protect his friends: each strike that landed on him was a strike spared his allies. It also seemed the tide was beginning to turn in their favor.
With a steely determined look in his eye, he takes another swing at the thug in front of him.
Seeing his boss go down, the thug takes one last swing for the bouncer, then makes a run for the door, putting a table between himself and the bouncer.
The bouncer takes a punch and is quick to retaliate. The thug just barely ducks his fist as he twists away.
The thug takes another well placed punch from Kytes, square on the nose. He drops to one knee and throws his arms up. He's surrounded, and this fight is no longer worth it.
Iagon shakes his head at his latest attempt to hit the thug. As the man turns his back to run, Iagon foregoes his attempt to harness the wild energies and instead merely attempts to club the man with his clasped fists.
Alas, hand to hand combat was something that he never gained a proficiency in, and his flying fists swipe through the air well behind the fleeing assailant.
Tattlin' Thom lies unconscious under the table, but the rapier wound through his shoulder has stopped its bleeding. Looks like he's going to live to see another day, at least.
One thug has slipped by the bouncer and Iagon and has made it out the door; the other has submitted and is on his knees.
The red-caped noble claps a hand on Kytes' shoulder, "Good show young man!" then looks about the room and continues to bark orders. "Get these scoundrels tied up and secured. I'll have the constable take them to Grayguard for questioning."
Turning back to Kytes and Roger, the noble addresses them, "You are the Marquis' new men, then. I heard he was taking on replacements. You're a brave lot, not going to back down from a good fight, I take it. That's good. This godsforsaken country needs more men such as you."
He sheathes his longsword and extends a hand, "I am Vice Admiral Montagne of the Imperial Navy. I will have your names, sirs."
Roger glances sadly at his bent knife and places it with a thunk on the bar, mouthing "Sorry" silently at Toddy. He turns back to Vice Admiral Montagne. "Roger McFarren, at your service! Thanks for the help there."
Iagon sighs, then looks about to make sure that his companions are okay before replying. After he sees that they're still on their feet and hale, he takes the hand of the vice admiral and gives it a steady shake. Thank you sir, and scoundrels indeed...that bunch was itching for a fight. Iagon Idrantis, in service of the Ma....oh, right, you already knew that part... He shrugs and busies himself with brushing spilled...liquid...ale maybe...off of the front of his shirt.
As you all make your introductions, the rest of the room sets into motion. Llano pulls Thom out from under the table as the bouncer pulls out a pair of manacles to constrain the remaining thug. Toddy returns the frying pan and broken knife back to the kitchen and returns a moment later with a length of rope to tie Thom up with. Later, a small contingent of constables will arrive to haul off the troublemakers.
The minstrels quietly begin packing up; they’ve had enough for the night. Llano takes a pouch of coin from Thom’s belt and throws it to them as thanks. Searching the rest of the halfling, he finds two potions and a dagger, which he hands to Liamae, along with the thug’s coin purse.
The rest of the patrons either shuffle out or return to their seats, where their meals are getting cold.
Montagne observes you all for a moment before expounding, “I’ve been heading an investigation into the recent increase in illegal Garundi contraband smuggled through Cassomir. We hit a break last week when a local shopkeep, Ol’ Petey, hired Tarik’s gang to smuggle some goods past customs to avoid the new tarrifs. We busted the operation but failed to apprehend anybody. We didn’t have enough to go on to tie this with Tarik, but now this halfling admitted to his involvement, not to mention arson and attempted murder, I think we have a promising case. As I’m sure you will be working alongside the River Guard at Arenway, know that the Imperial Navy is counting on you, and has your back. Give Rear Admiral Trudos my regards.”
At the end of his speal, Montagne spins around and summons the other noblemen, who settle their bets and leave the premises.
Toddy approaches you all with a beaming smile, “Your dinner is ready!” She returns with your meals and Llano orders a round of drinks for the entire house.
Iagon's eyes widen at the turn of events. So...not only did we survive...we solved a crime as well?. Though he doesn't feel as if he did anything, Iagon felt he had to fill the silence. Ummm...just doing our duty sir. And, we will.
As Iagon eats, finally, he begins to obsess about the bar fight and his role in it, trying to imagine how it may have gone differently. He eats his dinner in relative silence, then takes an early night. Truth be told, he was utterly exhausted.
"Nice work, everybody!" Liamae says once everything has calmed down again. "Let's eat up and get some rest. Tomorrow, adventure awaits!"
Kytes does his best to put up a respectable face, but the beating he took and so suddenly being the focus of intention for such an important person conspire to make his lack of ease quite obvious.
After shaking the Vice Admiral's hand and quietly introducing himself, Kytes returns to his seat. Those thugs almost had the better of him, and he could feel several welts beginning to form, but his friends were safe and his bravery -no, everyone's bravery- had earned them the praise of a position of high authority. Reflecting on this, Kytes sat up a bit straighter than usual as his spirits lifted.
He responds to Liamae's declaration with good humor: "I didn't think we'd have to start fighting for our meals until tomorrow!"
After that, he eats quietly, unaware that he is now smiling quite broadly.
You settle down to enjoy your meal. The place seems quiet now. The brawl is over, the musicians have been paid and left, other patrons make their way back home or up to their rooms. Soon all that’s left is the bouncer idly stroking a bruise on his arm, nodding off at the door, Llano accounting the night’s earnings, and Toddy and the other barmaid, you learn her name is Ginny, cleaning up the place.
Your conversation, too, quiets down as food and drink settles in your stomachs, and soon enough you each shuffle upstairs for a good night’s rest.
In your dream you are running through the fields of your childhood home. In fact, you are still a child. Everything about home is as bright and peaceful as you remember it. A familiar screech sounds from above and you see Eir flying along with you. Then you are flying too, soaring swiftly above the wheatfields. The feeling is exhilarating, and you laugh out loud with the sheer thrill of it. Far off on the distant horizon, you notice a glorious golden and white temple, gleaming in the sunlight. The scale of it seems impossible, towering high above the mountains and clouds. You realize Eir is leading you to this place, but the journey seems daunting. You have a moment of fear and doubt, and you lose your ability to fly, tumbling back to the dark, well-tilled soil.
In your dream you are taken back to the happy days of your childhood. Your father sings as he works around the house, your mother sits you on her knee and relates epic tales of her adventuring days. All is quaint and happy, and you feel comfortable and secure. Then there is the fire. It’s something that, at first, stays hidden and dormant in the periphery of your dream consciousness. You try to ignore it and cling to the joy of your childhood memories, but soon it creeps in and engulfs all that you hold dear. You are left wandering a charred and blackened world full of fiendish creatures burning everything they touch. You call out, for your parents, for anybody, but your cries are lost in the hot and dry wind. After feeling lost and forsaken, suddenly through the distant smoke, someone answers.
In your meditation, you return to the special grove of your childhood. This is your safe place, where all your dreams begin. With wildhearted joy you traverse the ever familiar yet ever changing Fierani Forest. Woodland creatures and capricious fey walk alongside you, and you trust that they are guiding you to where you need to go. Deep in the woods, far from the spiraling towers and arcane mists of Iadara, you come upon a mossy grotto and waterfall, surrounded by centuries old giant conifers. You feel a presence beckoning you, but you hold back. Whatever is calling you is in pain and crying out a warning. You feel a darkness creeping upon you through the woods, but you are unable to make sense of the warning.
Your childhood was not a happy place, and in your dream, you are taken back there. The image of your mother as she is lowered into the earth, the pained and forsaken expression on your father’s face as he is unable to even look at you. You watch through teary eyes as he turns and walks away forever. You find yourself running too, into the nearby woods. Deeper and deeper you run, being lead by the pain in your own heart, and by the chaotic whispers of the trees, as rough as their bark, as twisted and gnarled as their limbs and boughs. The deeper you go, the darker the forest gets, as the canopy drowns out the light. The language of the whispers grow more and more twisted, and you sense the presence of a great evil. Then, through the gloom, you see a distant patch of light illuminating a stone circle. There is great power there, you know, buried deep in the earth. It beckons you, but wicked shadows move about in the darkness that separates you from the light, ready and waiting to tear you apart.
Book One: Spring
Chapter One: A New Home
It is the 1st of Pharast, and the recently harsh Winter is finally beginning to give way to Spring. There is still a lingering chill in the air, and a bank of fog rolls off the river, covering the early morning ground with a light dusting of frost. Standing on the pier are three figures, waiting for you. As you approach you recognize the Marquis, with his lesser standing by. The other figure is new to you, but seems to be busy checking the tie downs and other details of a keelboat docked at the pier.
The Marquis smiles heartedly at you and shakes your hand as you arrive. ”Good to see you all. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourselves, we all have some hard work ahead of us.” He gestures to the portly man standing beside him, ”You remember my administrator, Hans. He oversees the operations of my estate and will be travelling upriver with you. I’ve chartered this keelboat to take you and these goods upriver to the estate, in exchange for your protective services. Banditry has always been a problem along the Sellen, but at this time of year it shouldn’t be an issue. I must stay behind to wait on the Marquess and finalize some negotiations. It seems we have a new supplier of potions for the outpost; solid work Iagon. I will be leaving for the outpost in a weeks time.”
Hans now steps forward and spits into his hand before extending it to each of you, ”Right, nice to make yer acquaintances. We’ll have plenty of time to become more acquainted on the trip ahead. The river’s runnin’ low and slow, so’s it’ll only take us a few days. We best get goin’.”
With that he steps aside to make room for you to board the boat, and bows slightly to the Marquis, ”M’Lord” before stepping aboard himself.
The Marquis looks about, ”I believe I hired on five of you. Where is Malryk?”
Your dreams the night before were troubling. In fact, you felt troubled ever since the Marquis turned down your offer of employment. It didn’t feel right, and your Harrow reading only added to the discomfort. It seemed to you that fate rested heavily upon this expedition in the Verduran. The images of the cards figured prominently in your dreams, and you woke well before dawn, agitated. Now, you find yourself walking restlessly along the boardwalk of the Shipyards, trying to find guidance in the swirling mists of early morning fog. Your pondering steps lead you fortuitously to the figure of the Marquis, searching the fog for signs of his missing man.
Roger's been uncharacteristically quiet all day, from a combination of the fight from the previous night and his dream. He keeps looking back at Cassomir-he should be thrilled to be leaving, but the dream about his parents has put him into a state of profound melancholy. Once I leave...there's gonna be nothing here to mark that they once lived here. I never got to bury them, the houseboat's gone...it's just me.
He's so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost misses the Marquis's question. "Uhh...hmm. Good question. He went off during our shopping trip yesterday and I haven't seen him since. How about you guys?" he asks of his friends.
Liamae is bothered a bit by the odd dream. She wonders what might be wrong with the forest, and what she might be able to do to help. But she keeps the worries from her face, grinning eagerly as the the adventure is about to begin in earnest. The chilly wind causes her scant clothing to flutter in the wind, but the cold does little to dampen her mood.
"A pleasure, Hans. I'm looking forward to a pleasant journey." she says to the Marquis's manservant.
When asked about Malryk, the elf shrugs. "I haven't seen him. He must have gotten lost in the shuffle. I hope he's alright, but I don't know if we should try to wait for him."
Deep in thought, Attai prowls the shore, making his way to the pier by happenstance more than tacit direction. The scrunch of frost on timber, his own footsteps, brings him to a moment's clarity - figures are ahead, and one, shadowed characteristically by another seems familiar.
The Marquis. In conversation with others, some of whom Attai recognises as having passed on his way out from the unsuccessful interview. Careful not to interrupt, Attai finds the Marquis' attention via quiet calm.
"Marquis, Attai Kah again. [bows deferentially] Have you lost someth...someone?"
Iagon realizes the Marquis addressed him, and clears his throat then offers a slight bow. Of course, sir - it seemed like a good fit for the outpost. He nods through the explanation and nods his head to the question about Malryk. Not cut out for this kind of work, I think. Sorry, sir, will it be okay for us to move forward with the four of us? I assure you that we're quite capable.
Iagon glances aside at the newcomer, and notes him with familiarity. He looks to the Marquis, waiting for new direction.