And so, our dark story begins...
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A tall, lightly tanned man with closely cropped hair and muttonchops strides into the tavern, moving with seeming purpose. Sitting in a chair, his posture is rigid, a slight frown gracing his face.
The man is well-dressed in the manner of an Ustaleven academic - a high collared, light cotton shirt covered by a long gray leather overcoat. A red ascot is wrapped around his neck. The man wears black pants and black leather boots - not work boots, but rather pointed and heeled boots, with intricate wingtips. Small, round wire-rimmed spectacles are perched upon his nose.
When he speaks, the Doctor's grammatical structure is complicated and filled with large words, as befits a man of his apparent education.
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A young, gaunt man walks into the establishment, pausing abruptly at the door then plunging forward to the bar.
"Edward Caromarc" he announces to the barkeep "Do you have a private room for hire?"
Edward’s outfit is black trimmed in intricate golden runes. In his hands is a carved walking staff topped with twisted silvered demon bone. On his left little finger is a tiny onyx ring with a Varisian Rune, on his middle finger a Caromarc signet shows his claim to the name. Tiny square silver cufflinks set with an inverted triangle - the latest subtle symbol of opposition - show his disgust for the Palatines.
Thin - some would say gaunt - and with the look of a man who has lost a deal of weight recently, his eyes are dark, his gaze piercing. His hair is shiny and black - save for a touch of grey at the chin to convey the wisdom he holds, and a line creased in his hair above his eye that leads to a faint scar.
Dot
A meticulously groomed man enters the tavern. He wears a pointed black beard and mustache waxed and oiled. His hair is initially hidden in the bear fur hat he wears, but when he removes it, those looking can see shoulder length braids.
He wears an ancient looking breastplate of blacked metal over a large sleeved shirt and matching pantaloons. His right palm rides atop a wicked looking short, but broad bladed weapon. The pommel and sheath of which are intricately worked with engraving. His left hand lays down the left side of his body where a heavy curved single bladed sword rests in a very sturdily constructed scabbard.
The man's penetrating gaze sweeps the crowd as he looks for whom he is there to meet with. His eyes are those of a warrior who is confident in his abilities
Amos Windelton is a human with White skin, Black hair, and Black eyes. Amos stands 6' tall bare foot. He has broad shoulders, and
weights a muscular 250 lbs. He is usually seen wearing some form of armor with an upside down red pentagram, his holy simbol. He
also wears this holy symbol on a medal necklace. The symbol is also painted onto any shield that he carries.
He walks in and sets down. Eyeing everyone as he enters the room.
"Vhere are zhe nobles from my homeland? Surely zhese four cannot be zhe only ones coming."
I do hope we have been asked here to destroy the chaos living in this area.
The barkeep nods toward Caromarc, "Aye, but you're on the list, and I'm instructed to have you and your friends gather round a table. Then I'm to give you something. If your troupe needs a room, we can talk about that afterward. The barkeep runs his tongue against the inside of his lower lip.
The four of you stick out like well-dressed peacocks compared to the despondent rabble about the tavern.
Caromarc sighs and hands over a handful of tarnished silver pieces
"I see. Very well, then by all means please direct me to the table and bring a bottle of..." he looks around [b]"...whiskey" Caromarc follows directions, sits down and pulls out a well used deck of cards.
Looking at the other well dressed customers he calls out "Poque, gentlemen?"
Doctor Aldous Beauturne, man of science, found himself slightly amused by the gaunt man, obviously a man of means, sitting at their table. A peacock, the Doctor thought, well-dressed, flashing his tailfeathers for the hens. Looking around the room, taking in the assorted patrons, most all grim folk, smallfolk, folk with hardscrabble lives, the Doctor suddenly missed Caliphas with all the heartfelt ache of young lovers kept apart. Then again, we're all peacocks here.
Sighing, the Doctor swallowed the last of his glass of brandy and slid it across the table to the peacock. Casting his eyes towards the man to his left, a tall man with a holy symbol of the god of contracts hanging from his neck, the Doctor's voice came out low and ragged. "Whisky. How kind of you. And I'm always happy with a round of Poque. Deal 'em up, let's see where the cards take us. I'm Doctor Aldous Beauturne. The hellknight here was just saying he hopes we're to bring order to the area..."
"Doctor? What are you doing here?" Edward smiles suddenly and holds out a hand "Edward Caromarc. I was in your anatomy class at Leipstedt. It's been years!"
He shuffles and starts dealing, looking over at the hellknight.
"Do you play?"
The armored man in the bearskin cap strides over to the table.
"It appears this is the table I was asked to attend. I had hoped more would answer the call than we are here."
Without asking to sit down he takes his seat and nods towards Catomarc who is pouring spirits.
"I only know some of your families through your symbols not your faces. I am the Droht of Vacia. I maintain control and lordship over my lands and peoples. My domain straddles borders, but it is most correct to say that it lies in Lozeri."
"My sire kept his oaths and died in service of Count Beauturne during the revolt. I am here to tell you the people of the countryside still revere and support the Count. Many peasants who once supported the rabble pretenders also lift their voices in lament, for Count Beauture worked to protect his small people. The pretenders work at nothing, but to feed their faces, fatten their purses and titilate themselves."
"I also crave order, but not the brand worshipped in Chellax."
Ivan looks at Amos plainly.
"I do not seek to offend one I do not know, but to speak truthfully without veils or gilding upon my tongue."
Edward's welcoming smile went just a little too long as he desperately searched his memory for anything on the Droht of Vacia, or even Vacia itself. All to no avail.
Caromarc slides a glass of whiskey across to the armoured man
"Perhaps in Lorezi your revolutionaries are corrupt. In Vieland, where my domain stands, I know a great many councillors are good people genuinely trying to do the right thing - but sadly one simply cannot run a County by Committee. Especially not with the Worldwound on the border!"
He slides a glass across to the Hellknight as well.
"I know enough Chellish history to take the House of Thrune as a cautionary tale."
Edward raises an eyebrow.
Was trying to warn people about speaking too openly against the Palatines in a bar, even one in Ardis. Failed by 5 or more, so rules say he delivers the wrong message. Want to pick something?
"Ahh, yes, I recall you being a gifted, if sometimes unmotivated student? Obviously, you've done well for yourself since. I hope you enjoyed the dissection of the dire rat - it is always helpful, I think, to see that even fantastic creatures can, and often do, suffer the same biological needs and processes of the rest of us. It is always a pleasure to meet a former student. I assume that you are still involved with the sciences?"
-----------
As the mountain man approaches, the Doctor rises to greet him, shaking his hand and sitting once the man does. A Droht, then? A hellknight, a Droht, and a most-likely nobleman, judging by his clothes. The reasons for the Count's summons become a bit clearer.
"It is a pleasure, Droht. To see so many important persons gathered at this table, it makes me curious as to my relative's desires. I am a distant relation of Beauturne, not landed, and with little claim to a title myself. Still, blood can be a powerful thing, one that can, and does, bring with it fealty, and with that, responsibility."
-----------
When Edward speaks, in a veiled way, of his respect of the councilors, the Doctor raises his glass to his mouth and takes a long sip, trying to mask his emotions. This Carmorac, a Palatine sympathizer it seems, at a table with a man who clearly wants to bring back his family to prominence. Best to keep your intentions to yourself, and see how this sorts out.
Kyraska saunters in humming a Cayden tune and looking every bit the peacock he pretends to be. He has shoulder length red hair that is currently pulled into a ponytail with a wide brimmed hat atop his head. He is somewhat short at only 5'9 and lanky. He appears to be unarmed and wears a scarf regardless of the season. All of his clothes appear to be well cut and tailored for him.
"Good evening fellas sorry for my late arrival, I was tied up with some other business." He flashes a huge smile of perfectly white teeth and takes a seat. "Barkeep a scotch please and I would love to be dealt into the next hand, are we playing for fun or wager?"
I was expecting to be the best dressed here...and another Beauturne besides...and he has a true name claim to it. My position is already perilous and I just got here...
"Blood is indeed a powerful thing. My Count was not willingly taken from his throne, nor did my father who was willing to pay for his with blood. It is good to hear you speak of fealty, responsibility, and family lines. Some things cannot simply be waived away or abdicated."
"I am more interested in the business of why we were called here, not games."
"All the world is a game my friend, it's just a matter of if you're playing or being played" *wink*
"The struggle of life is not a game, but a life and death battle with clear winners and losers."
Another arrival, another standing, greeting, and sitting. Looking to his hand, the Doctor listens intently to the banter around him. Pulling a well-used wooden pipe from his sash, and packing it full of tobacco, Beauturne lights it, taking long, satisfied drags. The Droht is very serious. This new arrival... not much so.
"Indeed, Droht. Waived away, abdicated, or whatever, as long as those with a tie to the past live, the past lives on with them. Such is the way of the world. What those of us not in Pharasma's Book do with the past... that is the devil of living."
The pipe firmly lit, the Doctor folds his hand, tossing it to the middle of the table. A fitting game, Poque. Built around masked intentions.
Games, not games. It is all semantics, gentlemen. Different ways of viewing the challenges of life. I suspect our Droht and our new friend here are not so different in that viewpoint, only in their words uttered. And I'm sorry, new friend - I didn't catch your name?"
Amos Windelton, sets down at the table with the others.
You look like the group that I am suppose to be joining.
After hearing the others speak, Amos speaks up.
Ivan, The good people of Cheliax know how to uphold order with a stern fist as meant to be. I do hope you destroyed those that took the throne from your Count.
Edward I can not blame you for loving the Palatines. They do stand for law and order. That is the single most imporatant thing. I do not agree with their methods but I understand them.
"You know nothing of what they stand for in Lozeri!"
The Droht sets his empty shot glass down hard on the table and turns his face towards Amos.
"Lozeri is ruled by a group of well-off peasants of no breeding who indulge the whims of the themselves pretending at being county's social elite. They prefer arrainging elaborate hunts to administrating the their government. Little do they care for the local fauna, they release exotic, and often dangerous, imported beasts across the land."
"Their games have cost the lives of my small people! Disrupted centuries of truce with the fey and feed the werewolves and other evils of the forest."
"Maybe it is different elsewhere, but don't lecture me about what they have done to my homeland, family and people."
"In return, I hunt them. The war is not over for me and mine. I have not bowed at the feet of my Lord's enemies or abdicated my birthrights."
"My name is Kyraska. You may call me Ky. I assume you are betting that fine pipe, you seem to rational of a type to throw things." I offer my hand for a shake.My other hand a coin appears and I start rolling it across my knuckles.
Ivan seems a bit brutish but I'm sure he knows his way around a brawl, and this Aldous fellow seems to calm. I feel like he is the most dangerous man here.
The barkeep finally arrives at the table, carrying an ivory colored envelop with find gold embossing around the edges. "This is for Aldous Beauturne, any of you him?"
Once Aldous makes his claim, the barkeep gives him the letter.
"I'll be back with your drinks."
I have gathered before you the most talented and ambitious nobles in all of Ustalav toward that very end of which we last spoke: the reclamation of Lozeri!
As you should well know, our homeland is beset by monsters, brigands and usurpers. In their chaos we shall take opportunity and reforge our legacy, the legacy of all born to noble Ustalavic blood should they have the power to grasp it.
Word has come to me that Ascanor Lodge, once a luxurious retreat from the common, has fallen, but in its destruction there is a hope for rebirth. Ascanor’s foundation is that of a fortress, and its interior an oasis against the predations of man or animal. Claim Ascanor and you will have a nigh-unassailable fortress from which to reclaim the land. Take your seat at Ascanor, and I promise the stations and wealth of your companions and yourself shall be nigh assured.
Our time is now!
~Dorin Beauturne
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"Doctor, the dissection of the dire rat is what convinved me to move into mathematics. It is one thing to read a diagram in a book, another to have the creature's eyes open while you are covered in blood up to your arm removing the brain."
He whispers at the Droht "By the Wasp! Keep it down! There could be agents here!"
Edward happily deals in Kryaska. "Just for fun at this stage. When the stakes are high you always have to wonder who's looking over your shoulder in a crowded room." He returns a mirror of Kryaska's wink, apparently convinced they're having some sort of conversation. "I've talked to the barkeep about a private room, Once we can move I'm sure we can play for real stakes."
"I assume, Droht, that you were talking about the way the Caromarcs abdicated the seat of Vieland? I should warn you that that is a touchy subject. When revolution spread to Vieland Alpon stood down rather than wage war against his own people. He denied the violent troublemakers a chance to claim glory. By denying them a common enemy, he did more damage than any war might do. It has led to a different character of Palatine in Vieland. And, of course, it means that Alpon was still highly respected and funded in an all but impregnable castle on a vital trade route."
"Barkeep, another scotch please. turn back to Droht and Edward I look forward to this private room, a few friendly wagers and a few less prying eyes.
The Doctor offers a thin smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes. "Well met, Master Ky. I can see you know the way around a gambling den. Myself... I only gamble when-"
Interrupted, Aldous takes the envelope from the barkeep and producing a small, sharp stiletto, meticulously opens the envelope, and then unfolding the letter reads it three times before placing it folded once again on the table. An image, a daydream really, intrudes on the Doctor's thoughts - Ascanor, thriving once again, filled with all manner of laboratories, classrooms, and a stout company of wardens, the better to protect the secrets the Doctor is uncovering. Best to judge the content of these mens' characters now.
"It seems my cousin is putting a plan into motion we spoke of years ago. And it seems he has gathered together a skilled group of men to make his designs a reality. I'd suggest you get a good night's sleep, gentlemen. You'll need the rest, if you're interested in the Count's offering."
Passing the note around the table, the Doctor keeps a close eye on the reaction of the assembled group as they read it, especially his former student, the possible Palatine agent...
Ascanor...interesting...if it's as nice as this letter seems to suggest there's no way it's unguarded "Beauturne is your cousin? Very interesting indeed. I'm in."
The Droht seethes back.
"Yes, there most certainly are agents in here. Loyalist agents that may be looking for sympathizers interested in furthering the goals of the Panlintines at the expense of rightful lords and the order of law."
Edward pointedly ignores the Droht, reads the note and breaks out into a broad grin "Doctor, if there's a man here who can read this and still want to sleep, you might want to leave without them! I for one am ready to depart immediately. I have an apprentice outside with my travelling gear - I suspected a quick departure might be needed."
The Droht reads the offered letter.
"And a chance to reclaim the items of my birthright. I am with you Aldous as you are the agent of my liege. Vacia still stands loyal."
Amos slams his fist down on the table after reading the letter.The strong shall rule the weak. I am the strong, and if the rest of you are as well then, we shall take control of the hell hole. Perhaps we are just the people to bring order back to this place.
With that Amos stands up, and looks across the table. Let us depart, we have much work to do. There is no time to continue drinking in this ale house. To much alcohol will weaken our resolve.
With that the man with a star on his chest stands up and walks to the door.
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The Doctor nods to Ky. "Aye, my cousin by blood. Distant, and with a purer line than I, but my cousin none-the-less."
Turning to the group, Aldous offers the younger men that peculiar, flat smile. "There's no need to rush. We'll most likely have to hire a boat, and I doubt any boatman wants to leave this time of night. The river's the safest course of travel to Ascanor - through the woods is a dangerous proposition, as the surrounding forest is filled all manner of dangerous and unwelcoming creatures."
"Perhaps you've heard of Professor Bagsley Billington? An botanist from Absalom, who traveled to the area to research Stony Pine Trees, his well-outfitted expedition was lost not far from Ascanor. They apparently traveled in circles for days, before the Professor, the only survivor of the trip, stumbled from the woods gibbering like a pesh addict. He was alive - but minus two fingers, both eyes, and his sanity. Billington is currently a resident of Absalom Asylum, where he spends his days sitting by a large window, enjoying the warmth of sun on his skin, and muttering about a creature, silent as a falling leaf, with large, hypnotic eyes, that would come while they slept and harvest their body parts, much like a farmer picks tomatoes from a plant."
"I can appreciate your enthusiasm, and the Count no doubt appreciates your fealty, but prudence is the best course of action here. And there is another thing. I had some... difficulties back in Caliphas. What remain of my possessions are stored in a stagecoach outside this tavern. I'd like to leave the coach and horses here for the time being - is there a place in town that anyone knows of that can garage my vehicle until it can be sent for?"
"Well Doctor, you are our leader. If you say we are to wait until tomorrow, we shall wait. I still doubt my ability to sleep. In that case I shall need rooms for myself and my apprentice. I suggest we look into a suite of rooms and a private place in which we can converse and discuss logistics."
"Amos, please come back and sit down. We need a plan before we rush off. Aldous is right we need to think this through. Let me ask the barkeep if he knows someone in town who can handle the coach. I trust anything exceptionally valuable is well hidden.
I will get up and wander over to the barkeep. Another Beauturne...what is that old mans plan. I'm the only one here without a strong noble connection. Am I meant to be expendable?
"My good barkeep, your service tonight has been exceptional. I will make sure our employer hears of your fine service. Do you by chance know someplace safe we could store my good friends horses and coach where they will be well taken care of and not...accosted?
Kyraska, you are correct. We must have a plan. I did not mean for us to rush off without a plan. I just do not believe us to be safe here. We should comprise a plan. We should also create a contract, and each of us signing it, as a way to guarantee our loyalty to one another. If we are to stay here, then I agree that we should get a suite of rooms together, or perhaps share one room. We can then work up a contract, and a plan of action. What do you say?
Amos looks across the group. Looking for any reaction that would suggest that he can work with them.
"Very well. Barkeep it appears we need a room as well...at a respectable rate."
After returning to Amos and the rest, Lets make a plan and get some details before we starting signing contracts, as of yet we dont even know what we are attempting to divide.
"Paper is flimsy, melts in water, crumbles with age, easily lost, burnt or discarded. I have already spoken, I have no need of signing papers. Why place flowery prose and numerous confusing paragraphs in front of such a simple matter."
"Come and have a drink that we might know one another better. Comradeship is more important than paper when you are in the Shudderwood."
Edward speaks quickly and abruptly
"Given the good doctor has shared a hair-raising story, I thought I might join in."
"Once upon a time in Leipstadt university there was a university student who hated the Palatines. One night at a club he drank a little too much and bravely started to denounce them. Turned out the Palatines had an agent at the pub where he was so incautiously orating. He was arrested. Charged with Treason and Rebellion. Hung from a gibbet like a common criminal. As he danced on the the end of his rope the commoners in the crowd threw garbage and faeces at him. The End."
Edward deftly snags the whiskey bottle.
"I think we have consensus on the private room. I wouldn't object to slightly less cheek-to-jowl accommodation than I suspect we'll be taking, but I've slept rough before."
"I'm sure we can wait for a private room before discussing the details of our fellowship. 'Ky' seems to have it well in hand."
"I will need to call in my apprentice - she has contingent instructions if I just 'vanish' that would be awkward. I assume at least one of you would like to accompany me while I do?"
"Hummm, your story takes place in Leipstadt, Vieland, funny there would be agents there. Luckily we find ourselves in Ardis."
"My people live in the Shudderwood. I can tell you truths of experience and the further in you go the myths also become truths."
"If you fetch this woman, do you intend to include her in our deliberations?"
"Yes. It is lucky that we are a good mile outside the Tamrivena Palatinate border, inside the..." he stops, sighing "Never mind. The die is cast. Too late to change bets now."
"As for the woman... As she was born and bred in the Vieland side of the Shudderwood, she might be useful to include. I hadn't intended to, but your comment about native residents having unusual insight makes a great deal of sense."
Edward speaks quickly and abruptly
"Given the good doctor has shared a hair-raising story, I thought I might join in."
"Once upon a time in Leipstadt university there was a university student who hated the Palatines. One night at a club he drank a little too much and bravely started to denounce them. Turned out the Palatines had an agent at the pub where he was so incautiously orating. He was arrested. Charged with Treason and Rebellion. Hung from a gibbet like a common criminal. As he danced on the the end of his rope the commoners in the crowd threw garbage and faeces at him. The End."Edward deftly snags the whiskey bottle.
"I think we have consensus on the private room. I wouldn't object to slightly less cheek-to-jowl accommodation than I suspect we'll be taking, but I've slept rough before."
"I'm sure we can wait for a private room before discussing the details of our fellowship. 'Ky' seems to have it well in hand."
"I will need to call in my apprentice - she has contingent instructions if I just 'vanish' that would be awkward. I assume at least one of you would like to accompany me while I do?"
You don't have to love them, but you have to respect their desire for order. They sure know how to do that. In any case I suspect we will be killing some Palatines soon. Now lets get to our rooms so we are out of ear shot.
Q1: Quick look at the map in Rule of Fear says Ardis->Ascanor is about 75 miles direct, 225 miles by boat, maybe 100 miles to boat to Chastel and cut through the Shudderwood. Would like to know the sort of distances we're looking at in character. Really times, I guess - given that the direct route would be 'as the crow flies'.
knowledge:geography: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
Q2: Also, does Edward know about the silent path?
knowledge:nature: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
knowledge:local - best place to stable horses and store coach: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
"Very well. Barkeep it appears we need a room as well...at a respectable rate."
diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20
Ivan nods at Amos's words.
"True. I do not like a great many things, but it is always prudent to respect them."
"If the Count's cousin has no argument about bringing your woman in on this then I do not either. I differ to his judgement on this matter."
"It appears the hour for drinking has passed. It would take us four days by boat to reach the lodge. I presume that is the preferred method of travel? Otherwise we will be another week plus depending on weather and troubles of the trail."
The Droht serveys the men around him, before settling his eyes on the late comer.
"Kyraska, would you be willing to split the cost of a room with me?"
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"Well Doctor, you are our leader...
"You flatter me, Master Caromarc, but I assure you and everyone here, I am no leader. I am, however, a facilitator of others, and I have no doubt this is why my Cousin desires my help. I wring the best out of others, whether they are my students, or collaborators."
The Doctor's face goes white as a fine linen, and he cocks his head slightly, as if listening intently. Beauturne's stare becomes unfocused as if he were withdrawn into some interior landscape, far from the chair in which he currently sits. In truth, he is still very much in that tavern room, which had suddenly become overrun with the sound of a plaintive, despairing wail. He had heard that wail on occasion since the night that Brogol had visited him on the side of the road. Always it seemed immediate, to be emanating from the shadows. But each time, as now, no one else seemed to hear it all. That infernal, high keening! Leave me be, Brogol, I beg of you!
And it was gone. Snapping back into focus, the Doctor looks to his companions, hoping that his Poque Face hadn't slipped.
"Let me ask the barkeep if he knows someone in town who can handle the coach. I trust anything exceptionally valuable is well hidden."
"While the coach and the horses are valuable, everything of real value - my papers and books - will be coming with us. Indeed, it occurs to me now that if we find a keelboat large enough, my coach and horses can be brought along as well."
"I have already spoken, I have no need of signing papers. "
"Haha, indeed, dear Drocht. Master Windleton, you find a Drocht's word more binding than any manacles. As is mine - and I promise to be of service to the best of my abilities to everyone here."
"I will need to call in my apprentice - she has contingent instructions if I just 'vanish' that would be awkward. I assume at least one of you would like to accompany me while I do?"
"Of course, Master Caromarc. Every scientist needs an apprentice."
A visible shudder crawls up the Doctor's back.
"Kyraska, would you be willing to split the cost of a room with me?"
The Doctor fishes in his sash, bringing forth some gold coins. "Allow me the courtesy, Drocht Zukarov. I have more money than I need, and you all have been plenty kind tonight."
Ivan at fist looks like he might refuse the offer to pay for his room, then nods with thankful acceptance.
"Thank you doctor, though I am not completely destitute the road here was long and people of my lands rarely use coins for trade."
"If I might suggest, those of you with an abundance of cash may wish to purchase weapons forged of cold iron and or silver. I am hoping to purchase some silver arrowheads while in town myself."
Very well a verbal contract it will be. You can all be assured, that for as long as we are allied, my sword shall be yours. I will defend and fight along side each and everyone of you.
Amos turns to Aldous. Good sir, thank you for the room. Your kindness will be repaid.
Purchasing some other weapons might not be a bad idea indeed. I was hoping to pick up some blunt arrows as well.The are fantastic against undead.
Alas, I am not much in a fight but I'll see what I can scrounge up. I'm curious to see if this town even has silver to spare for weaponry