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Sköllji lowers his axe, "Aye. We dinnae know what foul magics might be released by destroyin' it 'ere. Best te wait 'til we're off this train. If you'll excuse me, I've sumpn te tend to."
The dwarf makes his way to the first class car, keeping his eyes forward, but loudly stating,"Y'all are lucky I fancy meself a dwarf o' class, lest I'd be shovin' that food an silverware ye were throwin' at me down yer gullet. 'Ave a nice evenin'." The dwarf chuckles as he leaves the car.
Entering the ballroom, he walks calmly to first class without a word.
When he finally steps into the first class car, he finds the bodyguard kneeling by the ambassador on the floor. Sköllji moves to them, removing his pack. "Any luck?"
The elf shakes his head, anger still flickering in his eyes.
"Well, lemme 'ave a look. This dinnae actually look like much blood, te be honest. I've seen me share of fellas bled out, lemme tell ye-" the dwarf chuckles, but notices the elf's suspicious eyes fall on him again. "Neither here nor there. Could ye hold 'er up?"
Sköllji looks at the ambassador for a minute then places a hand under her nose. Nodding, he reaches up and grasps a white tablecloth. Smirking at the elf he quickly pulls the cloth from the table, spilling all the dinnerware and drinks all over the center aisle. "Ah, s&$+e..." Sköllji grabs an unopened bottle of liquor off the floor and inspects it. "Vodka. I'm more of a rum kinda dwarf, meself, but it'll do.
The dwarf pops open the bottle and takes a swig before using his axe to cut strips from the clean bits of table cloth. After his work is complete, he explains to the elf. "Yer in luck, lad. She's breathin'. I know ye dun trust me much, but the knife dinnae hit an artery. If ye pull out the knife, I can disinfect the wound an wrap 'er up."
After a moment of thought, the elf slowly pulls out the dagger. Sköllji looks relieved for a moment, making the elf feel very uncomfortable." Sorry... Was pretty sure. Plus it's not a serrated blade, so that's good. Lookin like she passed out from the shock. Careful this is gonna sting a wee bit an she might-" The echos of the ambassador's scream can be heard a few cars down as the vodka is poured onto her open wound. Gasping for air, she eventually calms herself enough to breathe.
"Erm, maybe ye should wrap 'er." says the dwarf, shyly."I'll wait outside." With that, the dwarf exits to the ballroom car, and finds many eyes fixed on him.
You have made a life-long friend while on the train. Describe the events that lead to it (it could include events that happened with the Bonesmith - or perhaps someone on the train witnessed what happened and became enamored with you).
Pick one of the NPCs on the train (see here) and I'll write up a sheet for them. They will accompany you on your travels and assist you.
Also, don't forget to level up to 3.
During the evening Crashing Waves shared stories and tales with those on the train.
There once was an old who was cooking beans for dinner. One fell onto the floor, next to a piece of straw that had fallen out of a bundle the woman was using to start her cooking fire. The bean and straw were then joined by an ember from the fire. The three decided leave on an adventure to avoid their grizzly fates of the fire and the pot. Along their adventure they came to a steam, the straw laid down so the other two could cross. The ember went first, but half way across the straw caught fire and they both fell into the water and drowned. The bean laughed so hard that he split in half.
Sköllji spends the rest of the day with his friends, listening to stories and pondering the road ahead. The dwarf's eyes occasionally glance to where Crashing Waves has stashed the bone knife.
"Ey there, Cee Dubya. About that blade... Ye don't think 'avin it aroun'll curse us or anythin', do ye? I'm thinkin' the sooner we crush the damned thing, the better." Sköllji nervously fiddles with the pommel of his axe.
"No its meer presence should not cause us any ill fortune, but I am eager to be rid of the foul thing. Not sure if smashing it while in the confines of the train is the best idea, any thoughts."
"Could clear out the ballroom. Or take it back up te the roof. Already met two skin stealin' fiends aboard this train, I'd hate te have te 'unt down a thief tomorra when we could just destroyed the blasted thin' today."
Crashing Waves nods in agreement and stand up from his seat, "If we intend to use the ballroom we should get Jexen and Brinda, not sure they like us that much up there."
Silly Stories on the Train
While exploring the train, you find a journal. Here is an excerpt of the final pages.
Day 12
The woods really are the queer purple color that I was told. The trees don't look particularly strange in any other way. But the leaves and even the bark range from a bluish-red to deep violet. The branches are alive with birds of all kinds and colors. I almost expected them to be purple as well, but none are.
Day 14
The fruit of these trees is delightful. I am already wondering if I can carry a sack back with me. I think Eilla could make some extraordinary wine from these.
Day 15
I feel unwell, but I plan to leave for home tomorrow nevertheless.
Day 16
Too sick to leave.
Day 17
Still very ill. I can't help but notice that none of the wildlife eats the fruit of the trees. My gut is covered with bruise-like sores, very tender to the touch.
Day 19
The sores on my gut have formed distinct growths. I still can barely stand. The food I brought with me is gone. Only the purple fruit to eat. Despite the pain in my stomach, I am filled with hunger.
Day 20
The growths are... longer. I cannot move except to crawl, and barely that.
Day 22
Dear lord of my ancestors, help me. The growths, as long as serpents, have begun to burrow into the soil around me. I tried to cut one of them, but the pain increased past beyond which I could stand. Still weak. Tomorrow I will try again.
There are no more entries.
Very strange, I would assume the man died based on the journal, but then how did it get here? Crashing Waves takes quick stock of those in the area then raises the book and asks aloud, "Does this belong to anyone here?"
Sköllji nods in agreement. When the group is gathered together Sköllji addresses anyone in the ballroom, "My apologies for e'erything ye witnessed today. It's been an exciting trip te say the least. Unfortunately, we've one last thin' te take care of. If ye'll all leave the car for a moment, we can do what we need te do. Or don't, I dunnae really care. But don't blame the dwarf if this here cursed artifact releases some kinda demon or whatnot."
After saying his piece, Sköllji will brandish his axe and nod to Crashing Waves. Once the blade is placed in the center of the car, the dwarf raises Dagnir above his head, and swings down with a heavy chop.
Crackling orange energy engulfs the axe blade as the bone knife shatters. A loud crack echoes through the ballroom and Sköllji's axe is blasted from his hand, shattered into so many fragments. The dwarf is blown back by the explosion as well, his body crashing to the ground with a loud thud. Sköllji blinks wildly, barely comprehending what had happened.
Me axe!
The dwarf pushes himself off the floor, desperately looking around for his weapon. Upon finding fragments of metal, a loud yelp emits from his mouth, "No! Dagnir, no!"
As he reaches out a hand, Sköllji is surprised to see that he's suddenly holding the handle of his axe again. Bewildered, he looks back at the shards he had seen on the ground. Smoke rises from the metal fragments as they appear to evaporate away. As they do, Sköllji notices the axe is also smoking as the missing metal appears to grow back. Once the axe is whole again, a glowing orange rune appears along the haft of the weapon.
The dwarf, stupified at this point, looks towards his companions, face painted with shock and confusion. "What in all the 'ells is goin' on 'ere!?"
[B]"Well, I hope your axe isn't cursed now."
Brinda straightens from the crouch she entered as the bone knife wasdestroyed, and eyes Sköllji's axe. "Curious," she murmurs, moving closer. She draws an unfamiliar tome from the folds of her loose clothes, its black leather slightly cracked and bound in bone white. Murmuring soft arcane syllables, her eyes give a brief blue glow as she looks intently at the weapon.
Durnik makes the sign of a ward against evil, and then says "That is downright unnatural."
Sköllji looks at the axe intensely, and holds it out as Brinda approaches. "I-is it... magic? Do ye think the knife possessed it er sumpin? Cynerik blessed it... Maybe this axe is made te destroy cursed objects?" the dwarf says hopefully.
After a moment of thought, Sköllji places the axe on the ground and slides it a good 10 feet from himself. He waits for an intense 30 seconds, then reaches a hand out toward it. Dagnir is firmly planted in his hand before the dwarf's arm is even fully extended. Taking a surprised step backward, Sköllji can't help but let out a chuckle. "Cursed or no, ye gotta admit that's a purty neat trick."
Crashing Waves gives a golf clap at the dwarf's new trick and with a smile congratulates him destroying the blade. "While we are all here, I found this strange journal while milling about, I was unable to make heads or tails of it and no one has laid claim to it. Perhaps you guys should have a look at it."
Jexen keeps a wary watch over the proceedings.
"Hopefully, Sköllji, your axe will prove a boon. And not another curse. We did quite well this night. A killer dispensed with, before he could wreak further havoc."
The rage was so much earlier...it drove me, but it could have lead me to disaster. I *must* reign it in, and use that anger more constructively!
He fails to notice that his actions and intense bearing have already garnered attention...
"Aye, I hope so too," Sköllji responds to Jexen, deep in thought. Shaking the thoughts from his head, the dwarf lets out a large sigh. "Well, we did good today, lady n' gents. Imma turn in for the night."
Sköllji places his axe in his belt loop and waddles off towards first class. Reaching into his shirt, Sköllji can't help but grow a smirk as he flashes "his" ticket to the man at the door.
Brinda nods at Jexen's words. "Yes, we have brought justice to the Bonesmith," she says calmly. "Hopefully now the spirits of those whose lives he ruined can now rest a little easier." Her eyes stare off into the distance for a moment, then they refocus, and she looks down to the book in her hands. "We should rest before we decide on our next move. My heart yearns for a city again, but I will accede to the wishes of the group." With that, she looks for an attendant who can point her, victorious military personnel that she is, in the direction of a spare cabin.
Durnik's eyes never leave Skollji's axe and he has a look on his face like someone watching a cobra waiting for it to lunge at them.
"I think that since we are on the train, there might be some merit in taking it to the city and seeing what our fortune holds."
Before you reach the city, you receive a letter.
Dear [name],
Word of your heroism and bravery has traveled far. Such quantities are in short supply in these dark times.
You are hereby invited to an audience with Lord Garnach. Please meet with our representative in Sixton for further details.
Signed,
The House of Garnach
Upon arrival in Sixton, a finely dressed servant is holding a sign which reads “Garnach.”
When you approach him, he greets you, Hello sirs and ma'am. I am here to assist you in your next journey to meet with Lord Garnach. If you would please follow me.
Assuming you follow, he leads you to an elaborate wagon pulled by two well-manicured horses. You're taken to a townhouse where rooms and hot meals are prepared for you. As a gift from the Lord, tomorrow you shall be refitted in clothing and armor. Afterwards, you will board a train to Crossings, followed by a carraige to Thorpe.
On the marrow, your gift is as promised. First, you're taken to a private bathhouse to be groomed. After being washed and exfoliated, your hair is cleaned and cut (for those who have hair) and your nails are cleaned and filed (for those who have nails). For the clockworks, your plating is scrubbed and polished.
You're measured and fitted and given three sets of fine clothing, a solid pair of fir-lined traveling boots, and a pair of soft house shoes.
Finally, you are given new equipment that is “fitting for someone of your caliber.”
You're given one more night's rest in a real bed, and after breakfast you're taken back to the train with first class tickets to head to Crossings.
Jexen is taken aback by this turn of events.
Even if I *could* recall my life before, I imagine it would have been a long distant memory of looking this polished - if I ever did. And the armour!
He looks over his new scale mail armour with pride, before approaching the head of staff.
"What can you tell me of Lord Garnach? I would know more of this generous man."
Sköllji enjoys being pampered, though forcefully objects if anyone attempts to cut his beard. With his axe no more than a thought away, the dwarf feels a lot more relaxed than usual.
Having packed away his nice clothing and shoes, Sköllji adjusts his new(and first) set of armor in a mirror. "Dunnae look to bad, eh? Like a right professional!" the dwarf exclaims happily to himself. He slides open the door to his room, and steps into the hall of train.
"Now where's that dinin' cart?"
A new clockwork follows the party as you depart the train. Like Jexen, he's short, standing perhaps four feet tall. His metalic plating is etched with elaborate designs. He is soft spoken, and seems to follow Jexen around like a lost puppy.
It does look quite nice on you, Librus says to Jexen. And I have to say, thank you for bringing me along. I'm not sure what I would have done in Sixton. I didn't really have any plans.
Jexen turns to face the clockwork, and replies, a strand of warmth in his voice.
"It was not so long ago that I found myself stumbling out of woods, a babe in my arms, and barely any memory at all. I will aid you if I can,"
The clockwork fighter turns to his companions.
"This is Librus. He is in a similar situation to mine own, with little memory. But he is a quick learner, a scholar. He has offered his aid, and I would not refuse him."
"Pleasure te meet ye!" Sköllji extends a hand toward the new clockwork. "A smartarse, eh? Good! Someone's gotta be the brains o' this operation!" Sköllji bursts out laughing and eyes the group, but when his eyes meet Brinda's, his chuckle becomes a cough. "Yerself excluded of course, ma'am," the dwarf nods while clearing his throat.
"Speakin' o' which, we should write a letter te ol' Cynerik an TAS. An the one-armed she-giant'd likely want te know what became o' the murderous elf... I say 'we', but I can only read an write in Dwarven. Mayhaps mister smarty-bolts here'd do us the 'onor?"
Sköllji takes a bite from the leg of some animal and washes it down with a swig of ale. "Could get used te first class, hah!"
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Brinda didn't know what to make of the lavish treatment bestowed upon them. In her experience, this sort of thing meant they were lambs to be fattened... before the inevitable slaughter. Despite the undeniable pleasure of being washed and clothed in finery, it left Brinda cold, and struck a note of warning in her heart.
As the party steps off the train, Brinda gives the new clockwork a small curtsy in her new clothes, mostly deep blue, black, and white The sash around her middle emphasised her tiny waist, a result of living rough and eating little for some time now, but the long, loose skirts made her look both taller and less waif-like. "A pleasure to meet you, Master Librus," As Sköllji nervously references her, she sighs. "Sköllji, I'm not a delicate flower about to wilt in the face of a little humour, and we've all faced worse things together than your jokes. I don't expect an old rogue like you to mind your tongue, so stop worrying about whatever sensibilities you imagine I have and do your damnedest." She then pokes her tongue out at the dwarf, screwing her nose up like a child as she does.
"And... I think I'd like to write to Cynerik. And TAS, of course." Thinking of Cynerik, a wave of melancholy swept over Brinda's heart. He'd been the kindest man she'd ever met, and she missed the feeling of safety and surety he'd exuded, despite his own internal turmoil. "I'll write them something tonight."
"While I am sure that Librus could write a fine letter, you knew the persons involved, Brinda. I look forward to seeing what you write."
My own hands are good for little more than blocking and striking. But that will be enough.
"So," Brinda says to everyone and no one as she looks about the station. "Where are we to find this carriage to Thorpe and Lord Garnach?"
Lord Garnach is a simple and humble Baron in charge of the lands in and arround the town of Thorpe. I do not know exactly the reason he's summoned you, but if my sources are right, it will be about his children. The rumor is that they are missing. But I am not privy to exact details this far away.
He is very generous, though, and will pay you handsomely.
As to the carraige? An escort will be waiting for you when you arrive in Crossings.
At the mention of children, Jexen's mind leaps.
Jericho. Mary. I wonder how they are doing.
"I would see children safe. And I am now even more keen to meet Lord Garnach.", says the clockwork, standing straight with purpose.
When they have a moment, Jexen turns to Librus.
"Librus, would you write a letter for me? There is a small town..."
Jexen continues, explaining about Mary and Jericho.
Crashing Waves enjoyed the pampering at the bathhouse, but was quickly ready to move on to Thorpe, especially if children were in danger. It was becoming an all to common thing.
You depart from Sixton and enjoy a first class ride to Crossings. A few days later you arrive to another finely dressed servant awaiting you with a large carraige pulled by six horses. As soon as you are in, it takes off and you're whisked away to a small-ish castle just outside of Thorpe.
A man is waiting outside as you approach. If it was possible, he is more finely dressed than those around him. His cleanly shaven face watches as you approach and other around him defer to his gestures and word.
When the carraige pulls up, he walks forward to open the door and he holds out his hand to assist each of you down to the ground.
Welcome, he says, I've been waiting with anticipation for your arrival. I am Lord Roderick Garnach. Please. Come inside.
He leads you into the castle to a sitting room, where drinks and small morsels of food are brought in.
Let's get straight to business. All of my heirs are missing. I'll tell you everything I know, but I hope you'll be able to help.
Four weeks ago, they were all struck with the Shuddering Pox. A nastly little disease that hasn't been seen in the Northern Reach for nearly a decade. And my children have it. We put them in quarantine in the upper east tower to prevent it from spreading. And I really started to believe that they would all just slowoy waste away up there. But last week they went missing.
I send word to a friend of mine in Sixton to send someone who has shown breveey and honor to help. As a deposit for your help, I've had new equipment purchased for you. I hope you like it. Think of this as the first half of your payment for finding my children. If you can bring them back to me, I will give you an additional three gold crowns each.
Now, unless there are any questions, I'd ask that you get started right away. The servants will escort you around the castle. You have free reign here. Please speak to anyone you must to find them, and take a look any where your investigation may lead.
Brinda curtsies before addressing Lord Garnach. "Milord, thank you for inviting us, as your generosity with our apparel. My name is Brinda. I have a few questions for you before we get settled in. First, were only your children - sons? - struck with the pox? If so, that suggests that they were targeted somehow. Second, how old are they? And lastly, do have, or have you had, any enemies in your life? Anyone who would wish to cause you pain, or anyone that stands to profit from your heirs disappearing?"
Lord Garnach is in his 30s. He's fit, but not a warrior. He's generally regarded as intelligent, kind, and generous. For a Petty Lord, he is not petty at all. He does look worried, as if he had genuine concern for his heirs.
My children are 17, 15, and 12. The oldest is Auri. Byron is the next, and lastly Vanessa.
I do not know that they were targeted, but it is always possible. Historically, the disease has been transferred from person to person. But it has to start somewhere. Perhaps they were cursed instead of unlucky.
As for enemies, I am the Lord of this region. Of course I have enemies. I try to rule justly, but not everyone agrees with my rulings. I have political opponents who do not agree with my decisions, such as the decision to marry a commoner. There are those who do not agree that the nobility must always keep Noble blood in the line, as hogwash as that is.
Regardless of the motive, my children are still missing. I wish to find them more than I wish to know the reason why. If discovering the motive leads you to them, all the better. But if not, drop the line of inquiry until after they've been returned.
Jexen hears out the lord.
"Lord Garnach, I am Jexen. And I am ready to begin. Can we see both the tower and your children's usual quarters?"
Crashing Waves offers and excessively elaborate bow and greets him in Elvish. When the disease is brought up he pulls a bright blue frog from his pocket, "What do you know about this Shuddering Pox?"
The frog ribbits.
Indeed I do, it says in a deep baritone.
Shuddering Pox. The disease that laid low Nessus, the First City, shuddering pox has claimed more lives than any other disease that has ever torn through Rûl. The mere whisper of an outbreak incites panic, sending people fleeing for safety. The pox presents as a rash of bloody, red blisters that break easily to release streams of runny fluid. Broken blisters leave permanent craters in the flesh so that even people who manage to survive it bear its marks for the rest of their lives.
The disease leaves the creature with hideous scars. It can be cured only with time and strength, but the black cap mushroom is known to help.
At this point, Librus interjects. I do know of another cure. Legends of the Old Faith tell of a cave near Mirror Lake which, when one afflicted of the Pox sleeps in the cave, they emerge well again.
Mirror Lake? Lord Garnach asks. That's not far from here. And my wife's family used to worship the Old Gods.
To Jexen, Lord Garnach says, Of course you may. My servants will escort you there. Is there anything else?
"Indeed. We would also appreciate any advice on reaching Mirror Lake from here, or where we might find black cap mushrooms locally."
Jexen will wait for Garnach's reply before moving towards the quarters, then the tower.
My staff can handle that. I must attend to other matters, Lord Garnach says as he walks away.
Headed towards the children's rooms, you find them clean and tidy. It's been some weeks since they've lived in these rooms and the staff has already cleaned up any mess made. There is no evidence of any foul play here.
In the tower, nothing has been altered. Lord Garnach ordered everything be left in its place until the Investigators arrived.
A cursory search of the northwest tower reveals the children dressed and took their breakfast with them— the trays are empty, but the servants found no fruit peels or other waste one would expect. There’s a tunnel (unguarded) leading to a larder (unoccupied) with an exterior door (unlocked).
Jexen turns to the others.
"Can any of you find evidence of foul magic or of forced entry?"
As he speaks, he searches.
"What's wrong with my armor? I made it myself?" asks Durnik as he looks at his breastplate.
-------------
Later, he was surprised to see, along with the bundle of clothing that fit him, a suit of mail armor made of burnished steel over a hardened leather hauberk, as well as a proper knight's weapon, a long blade with a wire-wrapped handle and a pommel in the shape of a hawk's head. a warbow completed the armaments that awaited him, made of a darkly stained Oak and clearly built for someone with his raw strength.
-------------
At meeting Librius, Durnik offers his a hand and says "Pleased to meet you."
-------------
After meeting the lord, Durnik would thank him for the equipment and listen to his story, but he wouldn't have much to add to the conversation. He was much more comfortable in a smithy, where titles didn't matter.
In the tower, Durnik would take his time looking at all of the points of entry into the children's rooms, mainly focusing on locking mechanisms or bars on the doors used. While he had little experience trying to open them, he had made a lock or two during his time as a smith, mainly because his mentor had thought it would be good practice.