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The town of Threshhold is located in the wooded Windrush River valley near the southern shores of of Lake Windrush. It is surrounded on three sides by the wooded foothills of the Black Peak Mountains, its slopes still covered in snow on this bright spring day.
The town is surrounded by a low stone wall, not more than 12 feet in height to the north, south, and west. To the west it faces the Fogor Isle and the Windrush River.
The town is ruled by a mayor who tends to its day-to-day needs, and Baron Sherlane Halaran, a strict but well-liked elderly Thyatian noble, who rules the local area from his keep to the north of Threshhold.
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The guardsmen at the southern town gate bear the livery of the town: a white stag rampant on a field of dark green, and each of them is wearing a black armband. They look at you suspiciously, paying close attention to your weapons and armor. One of them speaks to you gruffly as he holds up his hand, ordering you to halt.
"Greetings travelers. I welcome you to Threshhold in the name of Baron Halaran and Mayor Caldwell. Only swords, daggers, maces, and staves may be worn openly in the city. We will collect all other weapons now if you wish to enter. Armor is discouraged unless you are on your way into the wilderness, so I would suggest storing it while you remain within our walls. Spellcasting is also forbidden without the express permission of the Church of Karameikos, and anyone found casting spells will be treated harshly. We are a law-abiding town and we do not look kindly on troublemakers, especially during this time of mourning."
Wong Li is an olive-skinned beauty with brown eyes and jet black hair. She wears only a simple tunic and pants over sandaled feet. She stands about 5'3" tall and weighs about 122 lbs. She carries no weapons beyond a simple quarterstaff and does not wear any armor.
She stops before the guardsman who spoke and asks, "Forgive my humble ignorance, but why is the town in mourning?"
The guard nods, "No apologies necessary, stranger. Today is the funeral of Aldoran Caldwell, the mayor's son. There is a procession with the body that began this morning at the Sacred Grove just east of town. They will bring the boy to his funuary vessel and the town will follow the boat as it is paddled up the river and finally set aflame on Lake Windrush."
Nilus frowns at the guards and rasps at them As you wish.
His shield is covered with a leather cover, and his heavy chainmail sits bundled in his pack, but his dark grey iron bastard sword is strapped to his waist as always.
Nilus is very tall and broad through the shoulders. He has long stringy black hair that hangs in his face. Of course, his most striking feature is the massive scar that covers one side of his face, his eye is missing on the left side and it looks as though that side of his face was burned and mutilated.
Nilus wears simple grey clothing with not much in the way of ornamentation except a small ruby ring he wears on his left pinky.
Snaaga nods in agreement to the guard's requests. Standing just over 6 feet and with a large, but lean build, Snaaga looks like any other human traveller. His weaponry is well hidden on his person and his light leather jack looks more like a jacket than armour.
"Can you suggest a good inn to stay at? I am looking for trade goods and might be here a few days."
The whickering of nervous horses in the nearby stable was the first sign of Amaryllis's presence. A bleary eyed head poking out of a heap of straw was the second.
"Kistai therianth uingol muldranthe - How is the sun so **high** already?!"
With very little of an elf's typical grace she hauled herself to her feet, wincing at the straw that poked through her cheap shirt and breeches.
"...There used to be boots..."
Though her search is far from dignified, her scrambles around the stalls and hayloft still betray a casual strength and growing coordination.
"Haha! I knew I'd- Kist!" Her cry of triumph turns to frustration as she discovers that one of her boots has several new holes gnawed into it by some vermin or other.
"...Fine."
Leaping down halfshod, Amaryllis rakes her fingers through the tangles of her hair and calls out to the guard, "Geoff! That's a lot of travelers. Need a temporary deputy to make sure they don't cause any trouble?"
The guard listens to Snaaga and replies: "A good inn? Yes, the Gray Swan if you've got a few royals to rub together. If you're stuck with just copper, I'd head for the Sailor's Arms. It's on Fogor Isle, just south of North Bridge."
The guard grimaces when he hears the wood elf speak and turns to Amaryllis.
"Ryllis, I'm not sure you could hold a blade in your condition, let alone defend yourself with one. You might ask if these newcomers need a guide about town, though. I can't stand here all day answering outsiders' questions."
He then turns back to Snaaga and is about to say something before he changes his mind and turns around to fire another comment at Amaryllis.
"And the name is Jed, not Geoff. Geoff is my father."
Leaning in toward Snaaga, Jed half-whispers: "You could do worse than Ryllis if you need a guide, honestly. She's got a good head on her shoulders ... well, if she hasn't been drinking heavily. And she's cheap on top of that, won't cost you more than a cup of strongwine for a half-day's work. Just be sure to pay her after you no longer need her."
Nilus turns to Snagga and says in his hoarse whispery voice Well. Guess a pint couldn't be the worst idea.
Canellir is a bit plain for a high elf, though still attractive. Perhaps it is that ability to “blend in” that made her such a good negotiator. Tall and a bit gangly, her long golden colored tresses bound into a bun for travel, her fine elf woven azure robes indicated her station in life. Only the ornately filigreed rapier at her side seemed out of place.
I’m just here looking for my brother”. she mumbles softly. The fatigue a long hard journey evident in her posture.
"Jed, right, that's what I said. But he's right, despite his poor hearing," she waves vaguely at the guard. "You won't find a better guide in all Threshold."
Looking over at the elf, he shrugs his shoulders.
"What do you think Nilus? Should we hire her? She might be useful getting around this town.."
"We are in need of a guide," Li offers, though no one asked her opinion.
Nilus shrugs at Snaaga I don't know this place. You don't know this place. We're both gonna be wandering around with our bits in our hands without someone to show us the way.
"A very good point my friend. Yes, let's add you to our group."
He looks over at the human who was also interested in the services of the guide.
"Well let it not be said the I was not a generous man...you may join us as well and utilize our guide!"
"Generous eh? I like the sound of that. So, to the Gray Swan and an open tab then?"
Having made your arrangements with her, you follow Amaryllis through the town's South Gate.
The first thing that strikes the newcomers is that Threshhold seems unlike any other town they have seen before. Unlike the densely-packed homes and narrow streets of most human settlements of this size, this part of Threshhold is laid out in a very different way. Each home stands alone apart from its neighbors and has its own small garden surrounding it, giving it an almost bucolic or country feel.
The other thing the new arrivals notice is that everyone seems to be leaving their home and heading towards the middle of town. When asked about this, your guide explains that today is the funeral of the mayor's son, and that everyone is heading toward the town's main square for the services.
It seems that Mayor Caldwell's son Emmet was killed four days ago when he and his friends attempted to clear a ruined keep of monsters a few hours east of town. The keep, known locally as "Castle Caldwell", had been abandoned for decades, and had recently been purchased by the Mayor, who was hoping to restore it to its former glory.
Since it was the mayor's son who was killed, nearly everyone in town seems to be heading toward the main square to pay their last respects.
Though the thought of a soft bed tempts her sorely, the thought of missing out on an opportunity to see the whole town gathered together in one place is more tempting.
"Perhaps we should attend this funeral as well? Don't want to offend after all. We're new in town".
"I don't really see how going to a funeral will avoid offending people, but hey, it's your coin. Main square's this way."
Nobody ever got mad at me for drinking an ale. What in the hells do I care about some fool got himself killed. Nilus says in his low gravely voice
Snaaga stops and turns to Nilus.
"Let's not be too hasty. There might be a possible angle for us in this. Could not hurt to check it out."
Snaaga moves along with the rest of the mourners.
Ugh. Waste of damned time Nilus grouses as he follows Snaaga
The group makes its way to the central square of Threshhold: a large, unpaved open area surrounded by businesses and homes on three sides and the river on the fourth, across which can be seen Fogor Isle and the far bank of the river beyond it. In the center of the square is a marble column about 20 feet in height, inscribed with writing of some kind, along with hundreds of people milling about, waiting around for something to begin. Hawkers of various kinds walk amongst the crowd, selling food, trinkets, and black armbands.
Nilus frowns deeply as they get to the square. He's mostly looking at his feet, waiting to leave but then he tenses as he spots someone in the crowd.
Nilus looks like he's seen a ghost, because he might just have.
He'd left the Empire as a wanted man. He along with his entire mercenary outfit had declared for the wrong side in a terrible conflict on that side of the world. His outfit paid the price for that decision. Nilus thought he was the only survivor, left for dead with horrific scars.
As I live and breath. It's Loggen Threetrees. Nilus says
Loggen was a sergeant in a cavalry platoon. Nilus has spent many hours drinking and gambling with him in various warcamps across the Empire and beyond.
Nilus grabs Snaaga by the arm That man there. Do you see him? he asks, making sure he hasn't gone mad.
Snaaga had other reasons to go to this public gathering. His contact with the White Rose, a man going by the name of Grenfel, had given him the name of a contact to the local thieves' guild here in Threshold. Her name was Nora, and he would recognize her by an eagle feather she worn on a beaded necklace around her neck. She works at a shop that sells men's clothing in the upper-class part of the town. He needed this introduction as this group was particularly paranoid and without her approval, he could find himself in big trouble.
Thinking all this over, he is taken by surprise when Nilus grabs his arm.
"Steady on there man! Yes, I see the fellow...what of it?"
Li stares in confusion at the individual across from her. The woman is red-haired, with green eyes, and very attractive. "That woman," she says, to no one in particular, "Is not what she seems." The target glances up and Li turns away before they can make eye contact.
Canellir was accustomed to crowds and big gatherings...that doesn't mean she liked them, but they were a prerequisite for many of her jobs. She scanned the crowd without making eye contact with anyone... another skill she had developed. Suddenly her attention was drawn to a big individual in dark purple at the other side of the crowd. It wasn't so much his looks as the way he stood; most of his weight on his right leg, and his left leg slightly bent and forward... and his head held to the side. This one was worth a closer look. She moved forward always keeping one eye on this individual and another to keep from stepping on anybody else. Finally she found herself behind him... yes even without looking into his grey eyes and white teeth that smell... of sandalwood and musk would always be remembered.
"Well, well, well Duskir. I can understand you sneaking off in the middle of the night... but heading to the ends of the planet to escape waking up with a woman... that's a bit extreme".
With a start, and a look of shock the big half-orc whipped around, and his eyes widened in shock as he took in Canellir's angry stance. Though his orc blood was undeniable if anything the slight point of his ears, and his slightly distended canines gave him an exotic look. He was undeniably if not attractive at least exotic.
Canellir... I...I...! What are you doing here? And where is that nuisance brother of yours"? The big man scans the crowd lookin for her twin. "Please give me a chance to explain. I wanted to stay... but you were in danger if I did... and still might be. Can you meet me somewhere so I can explain? Preferably somewhere quite"
Oh Katy-bird, again?!
Katherine Brecon was the only person Amaryllis knew who could fall into trouble as easily as her. Only she wasn't quite so good at falling back out of it. She was a serving girl/horse groom/emergency chef at the Sailor's Arms where her easy smile, fiery wit, and deep royal blue eyes earned her just enough popularity to get away with the fact that she was the kind of absent-minded help who'd accidentally walk away with your boots when she was just supposed to be having them cleaned.
Or sometimes your shiny, flashy pendant.
Or the contents of your purse...
And even if it wasn't always accidental, most of Kathy Brecon's angrier customers were sailors who'd be back on their ships come second bell, long before they'd have time to do more than curse a bad bit of luck and an ale-filled belly.
But sometimes even she couldn't smile her way out. Amaryllis normally wouldn't have given a clipped kopec for a thief getting a bit of comeuppance, long as the wronged parties didn't go too far with it, but Katherine had looked at her from across the bar with a smile with just this much bravery, and just this much fear, and asked her, plain as anything, "Amy, come give us a hand with this, eh love?" And before she'd quite decided to do so, Amaryllis was across the bar and denting her favorite tankard, this time beyond repair.
And now, from the looks of the toughs sliding closer to her, Katherine had riled up someone who didn't mind spreading a few crona around to keep their own hands clean.
"Sorry, just a sec before we press on, Nilus," she said to Wong Li, loosening the sheath of her dirk, "I have to go see some men about a horse."
I don't know why I put up with this. She doesn't even look like Princess Katarina. Not really...
Li is still entranced by the redhead, watching her every move without actually looking at her. It is insane, but I know that she is a transformed individual. I don't know how I know, I just do. Could it be someone that Avaracus sent to find me? Li's pulse quickens and her mouth goes dry at that last thought. It was then that she was nudged by Amaryllis. She looks up briefly to see the woman walking toward a young woman and some local boys out for trouble.
Li moves to follow Amy. The last thing that we need is trouble. And the last thing I need is to draw attention to myself. Why am I doing this?
As she draws near, she says, "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Whatever the problem is, I'm sure that we can resolve it amicably."
Canellir looks at the big man with doubt in her eyes. "I can't think of any reason for you just to take off without saying anything... but everybody deserves a chance to explain themselves... it better be good".
She then looks around at the gathering crowd. "Perhaps we can find somewhere quiet to speak after this funeral. I was curious about the reaction to the crowd about the death. Were they here because they had to be or because they want to be".
"As far as my brother goes... well we can discuss that while you're explaining your actions".
As she draws near, she says, "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Whatever the problem is, I'm sure that we can resolve it amicably."
Nilus shakes his head at Snaaga It's nothing. he says, returning to his normal glowering self.
Nilus senses trouble, his years of fighting in every battle, skirmish and brawl in the Empire have left him with a sixth sense for violence.
He drops his hand to the hilt of his hand and a half sword.
Problem? he growls
Snaaga shrugs and continues to scan the crowd. It is then he notices Canellir talking to a half-orc off to his left. He started to turn to confront this 'cousin' of his people.
"I think you best move on friend!", he says in orcish with a low growl deep in his throat.
Amaryllis lithely slides through the milling crowd towards Katy and the toughs, angling to intercept them before they had her completely cornered.
One of them looked familiar- Ernst? Borscht? Bort? - but they were both the kind of brawny no-lucks who were just a few rungs less discriminating than she was. Probably wasn't anything personal, so she made it clear she was armed as she approached, instead of keeping it hidden all the way till it was stashed in their innards.
"Mornin'... Ugly," she greeted Bort, [b]"How's about giving the nice lady a bit of space, eh? I don't think they'll want to double up on funerals today."
The toughs back up and throw up their hands in a show of surrender. "Hey there Ryl, no hard feelings. I didn't know that you were playing bodyguard now. Wouldn't want to tangle with you and get wine spilled all over me."
They laugh as they let go of Katherine Brecon and blend back into the funerary crowd.
Not too far away, Duskir sees Snaaga's reaction and his hand instinctively goes to the hilt of the short sword strapped to his waist as he steps in front of Canellir.
"Hey, we got a problem here, buddy? I was just having a friendly talk with the lady."
"Yes. There is no problem here. I know this man... we have a past".
"Y'know he's a got a point Katy-bird. Do I look like some cosseting nursemaid?" Amaryllis chided her. "Look, how bad is it this time? I don't have a lot of coin, but maybe I can... I dunno, I'll figure something out."
Snagga looks the half-orc up and down and grunts.
"If you say so... let's just keep our personal attachments to a minimum...we are not here looking for romance...or even a quick tumble. I have 'work' to do! Now...where are the others?"
He looks around, not so much trying to spy where the rest of the group is, but more to try and locate his contact.
Canellir simply shrugs and turns her back on Snagga. He doesn't see her roll her eyes at Duskir, waiting for him to step away before continuing her conversation.
"So what brings you to this backwater place"?
Katherine shrugs and steps up close to Amaryllis so that no one else can hear.
"Thanks for pulling my bacon out of the fire ... again. I'm afraid I've gone in deep with Sindar. Real deep this time, I'm afraid, and those guys were some of his muscle, reminding me that haven't paid him the vig this week. You couldn't lend me tenner, could you? I promise to pay you back."
It's clear from her face that Katherine is quite desperate.
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Duskir smiles at Canellir, the incident with Snagga quickly forgotten.
"Ah well, you know how it is. Threshold only appears to be a backwater, but out here on the frontier is the perfect place for one such as I, one who is hoping to increase his fortune in life. In the shining cities of the world everyone and everything is in stasis, is already in place, and unless you're born with a silver spoon in your mouth, it is hard to advance your position. Here everything is still in flux, and fortunes can rise and fall at a moment's notice."
The half-orc gestures about the place with pride, but seems to realize that a funeral might not be the best place to make this argument. He quickly grows serious and looks down at the ground.
"For one here, fortune seems to have dropped to the absolute nadir, sadly. I guess there's a lesson here for all of us: don't assume that everything will go your way."
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About 15 minutes after you first enter the main square of Threshhold, the funeral gets underway. A body is brought into the square on a bier, carried by six stout men with black sashes. They are followed by a line of important-looking mourners along with a contingent of the town guard in their best parade uniforms. Among the mourners are Baron Sherlane Halaran and his striking, young daughter Aleena, Mayor Clifton Caldwell and his wife Teresa, the wizard Mordengar and his top apprentice, the Wisewoman Lenar, and finally the wealthy high elven merchant Sindar and his high elven guards dressed in shiny leaf-green armor.
Behind them come lesser members of the town's upper class. The only one who stands out is a human woman dressed in foreign clothes adorned with a necklace of eagle feathers.
The bier is put down next to the river and the body is lowered into a small rowboat manned by a dozen sailors. A second sailboat, much larger and brimming with sailors and marines is docked behind it. While the body of the dead man is made secure, the rest of the formal mourners board the larger ship. The town guard stand at attention on the river bank but do not seem to be boarding with them. Once everyone is aboard, both ships set off upstream toward Lake Windrush with the boat carrying the body in the lead. A dozen other rowboats can be seen casting off from other parts of the river to join the flotilla and all fall inline behind the lead boat.
An older human man standing next to your group puts his hat back on head as the boats depart. "They'll take the body up to Lake Windrush and then set the smaller rowboat ablaze there. A proper Taladaran funeral it will be" he says wth some pride.
Nilus watches the whole thing with a frown.
Could be drinkin.... he mutters, with a dark glance at Snaaga.
"Thanks for pulling my bacon out of the fire ... again. I'm afraid I've gone in deep with Sindar. Real deep this time, I'm afraid, and those guys were some of his muscle, reminding me that haven't paid him the vig this week. You couldn't lend me tenner, could you? I promise to pay you back."
"Kist, Sindar? Look Katy-bird, unless he wants to share the bunk I've rented at the Arms, or have the complementary bowl of stew, all I've got is a fistful of krona." She jerks her head back over to the newcomers. "This lot seems like they'd have coin, but not tenner worth for a day's guiding. Especially after Gregor made a point of telling them I'd work for cheap... Kist! Anything else brewing?"
@Duskir>>: "Tell me more. What do you know about the deceased? Was he loved... vilified...". She then strains looking at the departing ships.
"Let's go grab an ale and discuss. I'll introduce you to my travelling companions, and perhaps you can give us the current situation in town. I assume you've been here a while"?
Katy's face falls when Amaryllis tells her she can't help her out, but quickly brightens at her next question.
"Yeah, they say that Old Man Caldwell is beside himself because of the death of his son. He's looking for payback on those that brung him down. But all that has to wait until after the funeral, but I bet there will be a high price on goblin's ears when that happens. Might be you could make a few royals in the days to come?"
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Duskir nods somberly to Canellir.
"The man, well, boy really, who died was named Efraim and he was the son of the mayor, Clifton Caldwell. That's the mayor with his wife right there, about to get onto the skiff" he states, trying to point them out in a not-too-obvious way.
"Mayor Caldwell is not just the mayor but also the head of the largest lumber company in Threshold. Baron Halaran, the local Thyatian lord, gave Caldwell permission to buy a ruined keep a half-day's march to the east of here a few months ago. They say the Baron told Caldwell he'd make him a marquis if he refurbished and resettled it. Big deal for someone who is from the local Taladaran people and not Thyatian, you understand? The keep has been a haven for bandits raiding the roads around Threshold for years. Caldwell was about to announce that he'd give a heap of gold to anyone who could clear that place out, when his son Efraim gathered up his friends and headed out, armed to the teeth. Seems the young buck was trying to prove himself or something. Well, it all ended in tragedy. Less than half of Efraim's party returned a few days later with the boy's body full of wicked, black goblin arrows."