The grey skies looming over Caerwysg rumble with thunder and rain begins to pour upon the Red Wolves and their companions where they are gathered around Branok's carriage and Jowan's unconscious body. The clouds are moving fast, unusually fast and Gawen notices this immediately. Magan, though busy, is a man used to living under the open sky and also senses a shift in the air, while Kara and Felix feel an eerily familiar sensation of static crawl across their skin as tiny hairs one by one stand to attention.

The clouds billow out, expanding south over the Exe estuary followed by more booming thunder and sheet lightning that crackles out amongst the layers of storm clouds. A high-pitched screech rings out through the air across the city and Felix and Kara wince in response, but nobody else seems to hear anything other than the onslaught of the storm. To the south above the Exe a small hole opens in the clouds and a single god-ray of golden light shines upon the waters of the estuary. A crescendo of thunder rocks the city once more, louder than anything heard previously and Felix and Kara see something small and dark plummet from the sky into the dark waters below.

-End of Prologue-

-THIS CAMPAIGN HAS BEEN CONVERTED TO DND 5E AND PORTED TO ROLL20-

Stopping the bleeding is a simple job for Branok. However, he says it will take an hour for him to provide sufficient care for Jowan to regain consciousness.

At this point Jowan has completely lost consciousness and Magan is at risk of losing him completely. As he and Felix approach the others Branok comes hurrying up to them.

"What's going on? Who is this man?"

Jowan's eyes lose focus on Magan as he talks. He's passing in and out of consciousness. He doesn't have much longer.

"That wasn't anything to do with me. The man stood up to Arthek. Nobody who does that dies well. Kenver wasn't happy 'bout it either. After the fire he threw us out. A carriage isn't exactly hard to track."

Jowan coughs up more blood.

"Casworon, me. You f&&*ers butchered Hedrok in his sleep and burned Massen alive. You should have heard him scream."

Jowan hobbles on alongside Magan breathing heavily.

"Ain't it obvious? You lot! Arthek wants the lot of you dead, and he ain't alone."

Jowan grunts as he feels more of his life force slip away.

"The seer," he spits, blood dripping from his mouth onto the floor. "Nice big red target."

He grins a filthy grin of yellowed teeth coated in thick arterial blood.

"Arthek sent me, after Casworon reported back."

Jowan is starting to look very pale.

"Take me to your monk. If I die anyway I have no reason to tell you anything."

Jowan drops to his knees and holds his hands above his head in front of Felix, his wound dripping more and more blood onto the ground around them.

Sprinting towards the edge of the roof Felix leaps towards Jowan from above.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

However, his jump is short and he tumbles to the ground behind the man.

Fall Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4 Non-Lethal

Eagle Attack: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 3 + 2 = 15

Gawen's eagle swoops after Jowan, but its grasping talons find only armour.

Magan Arrow: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

Magan's arrow makes contact, but is deflected by Jowan's breastplate.

He continues runnning and drops off the far side of the building.

Felix chases after Jowan, leaping roof to roof to keep pace with him.

Spotting Jowan running along the rooftops, Kara draws her bow and takes a shot, but her arrow is high and he ducks it.

Kara Bow: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Felix's first strike finds a gap in the armpit of Jowan's armour and digs deep, nicking an artery. The second is deflected by his breastplate.

On the ground, Kara and Gawen spot the commotion on the roof.

Into initiative. Order is Felix, Magan, Jowan, Kara, Gawen. Felix next.

Felix Dagger 1: 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 1 + 2 = 19 Damage: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4 +1 Wound
Felix Dagger 2: 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 1 + 2 = 15

Felix stabs again at Jowan with both daggers, but still only strikes true with the first. Jowan staggers under the onslaught.

Magan Battleaxe: 1d20 + 2 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 2 + 2 + 1 = 21 Damage: 1d8 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 2 + 1 = 4
Magan Shield: 1d20 + 0 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 0 + 2 + 1 = 20 Damage: 1d6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 + 1 = 4

Magan follows up with axe and shield, hitting Jowan hard twice and leaving him winded. Stumbling as he goes, Jowan draws back from the fight and jumps the gap to a neighbouring building.

Felix AoO: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Felix takes a last stab at him as he goes, but only finds air.

Jowan is crouched atop the roof drawing his bow, he has the carriage below him in his sights. Concentrated as he is on his shot, he doesn't see Felix coming up behind him.

Magan rushes to the window only to see Jowan's back vanishing left atop the thatch of the roof.

Kara does not see Magan or Felix anywhere amongst the people in the street.

As Magan crests the staircase he spots a flash of fabric as Jowan hops out a window, his cloak flapping behind him.

Gawen barely manages to make out Magan and Felix slipping inside the inn a little over 60 feet in the direction Pen had been barking in.

As they enter the building, Magan spots Jowan disappearing up a flight of stairs to the first floor.

Since the carriage must remain at the workshop anyway, the carpenter, who introduced himself as Jago, agrees that Branok and Isolde may remain there for the time being. However, he does indicate that they might be more comfortable wherever they had spent last night.

Out on the streets, Magan and Felix see Jowan enter a local tavern on the road outside the castle moat. From here they can see their carriage standing nearby, outside Jago's workshop. Pen is sat upon the vehicle's roof and begins to bark in their direction.

The carpenter nods in satisfaction and grasps Kara's forearm firmly in agreement, looking her steadily in the eye. His grip is strong - his work clearly keeps him fit.

"Then I'll get to work right away. Please give my thanks to your companions."

Meanwhile, it becomes clear to Magan and Felix that Jowan's path is taking him towards the castle.

"The Waterfront's an inn down on the quay," the carpenter elaborates. "I'm sure you and your companions can handle a crew of pirates. They're out of their element on land. The full crew is about twenty men, but if you slay their leaders the others should scatter."

He hesitates.

"Of course, if you do wish to simply pay for repairs I can do the job for one hundred silver pieces... but it may take me some time to get to your ticket."

Near the temple, Jowan pauses and swaps a few words with a guard. Some coin is exchanged and he begins to walk back north.

Theli protests as her bodyguard gets up and leaves the carriage, but chooses to remain nevertheless. The workshop is dim and cramped inside, full of half finished furniture and other nick-nacks. A huge mast hangs from the low ceiling and candles here and there light the way.

Standing behind a workbench is a small and stocky man, who Kara can only assume must be the man that asked for her. He looks up and squints over, beckoning her closer.

"We see few enough warriors of the gods in these parts," he begins in Saxon. "You cannot hide what you are. You carry yourself as though you were a valkyrie of Woden's own hall."

He lays down his tools and walks up to the tall woman.

"Your wagon needs a new axle I hear. That isn't cheap nor a small amount of work, especially if you want it done today. Your friend the monk was very insistent about that. I could be generous for those on a mission from the gods... but I require a favour in return."

He thumps a hand on a wagon wheel stood besides them, leant up against a wall.

"You see this? This is holly oak. This kind grows in west Frankia. It's tough wood - highly valued in wagon construction. It's usually sold to me by merchants who sail between here and Frankish ports, but of late supply has been... difficult. Pirates raid the traders, and they have made my work expensive."

The man's eyes narrow as he talks of the pirates.

"The crew of the Howling Ghost are lodged at the Waterfront. See to it that they are no longer a problem and you shall have your axle."

Jowan sticks to the main streets for the most part. He is wearing a dull breastplate under his heavy cloak and has a bow slung over his back. He seems to be moving in the direction of the temple.

Slowly, with the odd jolt here and there as the damaged axle takes a bump, Branok drives the carriage up towards the castle. The fortress is surrounded by a broad moat, traversable only via a large wooden bridge. Most of the support services built up around it, such as workshops, are outside of these fortifications.

Branok climbs down from the driver's seat and exchanges a few words with a woodworker outside his shop before returning.

"If we want it done today, he wishes to speak with Lady Kara."

Another man that Felix recognises leaves the Black Horse. The one the prisoner named Jowan. He seems to be headed south.

There is a brief exchange as the guard makes it clear to Gawen that he'll keep an eye out for Magan and Felix in exchange for five silver pieces.

That's based on your low diplomacy check.

Theli sighs dramatically and calls out in Saxon, ignoring Kara's preachings.

"Drive up to the castle. I'll make sure they deal with it expediently..."

She turns back to the northern warrior.

"Gold invariably accomplishes more than prayers, girl."

It takes less than fifteen minutes for Felix and Magan to march up the road to the Black Horse, although they do not see Arthek's man along the way. The inn is a two-storey timber and brick building, with unusually high ceilings, surrounded by chaotic streets and noisy taverns. The street outside is crowded with drunken brawlers and the town guard.

Back at the carriage Theli snaps at Kara.

"When will we be leaving town? Do you intend to just sit here in the middle of the road?"

Gawen Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (7) - 1 = 6

The guard, while congenial, is not going to go out of his way to aid a passer-by.

Still in the centre of the city as they are, these streets are still relatively prosperous and guards can be found in numerous places. Gawen is directed about half a mile up the road, past the temple towards the castle, where most craftsman gather.

Theli pales.

"I already told your friends, I don't know," she answers, her voice quivering. "Something has been slowly but surely killing off my colleagues and now it is coming for me."

Branok goes quiet at this news.

"Well then you'd best see to it master druid... I know little of such matters. That is Theli. She is paying Magan and the rest for an escort out of town. Apparently her life is in danger from some unknown threat."

Theli sticks her head out of the side of the carriage.

"Ah! The elusive number four," she drawls sardonically. "I was wondering when you'd show up. Your friends seem to have upped and left their charge."

Gawen doesn't sense a presence nearby. Whatever did this is gone... for now.

Branok frowns in confusion.

"I'm not sure I understand... what else could it have been? Magan and Felix saw a man they say follows Arthek. He was watching them and they went to follow him."

The residue is fae in origin. The common folk would likely call it fairy dust.

Branok shrugs resignedly.

"Ah, hello Gawen! Yes, we're having a spot of bother. In a city of this size there will be all manner of workshops, but stopping for repairs could cost us at least a day. That's if we can get the job done immediately. I don't understand where the pothole came from..."

Kara Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Gawen Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22

Looking back, the road doesn't seem especially uneven and is cobbled like the other streets the carriage has been driving on. Nevertheless, something cracked its axle, and Kara and Theli had also clearly felt the drop as they hit the hole in the road.

Gawen glances down and something odd about the wheel that supposedly hit a pothole catches his eye. It's outer surface is oddly shiny and glitters in the late morning light.

Theli blanches at Felix's brusk manner and scowls back at Kara, clearly dissatisfied with the situation.

Magan Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Felix Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

When Magan and Felix arrive back in sight of the Fat Pig the man is nowhere to be seen.

Magan Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
Felix Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

The two men glance at each other, the same idea occurring to them. If Arthek and his men are quartered in Caerwysg there are only so many places that they are likely to be found. The Black Horse is a local watering hole for mercenaries and criminals, while the Waterfront is home away from home to many sailors, some of which might be better described as pirates. Both are within walking distance of here.

Kara Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

Meanwhile, on the way back to the temple, there is a loud clonk as the wagon hits a hole in the road and comes abruptly to a standstill. Theli lets out a muted gasp and Branok curses uncharacteristically colourfully.

"I swear that wasn't there a moment ago..."

It could have just been the wind, but Kara swears she heard a whispered giggle from the streets outside.

Branok clambers down to inspect the wheel and curses again, bitterly.

"Axle's cracked. She'll drive for now, but this really needs to be repaired properly. Where in Meili's name did that come from?!"

While this discussion is taking place, Pen wanders up to Theli's chest, sniffs it critically and quietly urinates on a corner of it.

Theli lets out an infuriated grunt.

"Please tell me at least one of you is staying with your carriage??"

Branok draws the carriage to a halt and nods to Magan.

"We shall return to the Temple. You can find us there."

Meanwhile, Theli is looking about anxiously.

"Why have we stopped? Where are you going? I payed for your protection!"

The man remains stood where he is amongst the crowd, stony and silent as he watches that carriage roll off down the road and out of sight. He does not move to follow.

Trail rations for two weeks cost 70 silver.

A variety of Saxon merchants walk the markets, many from the north and the east. Many murmur unquietly of the kentish King's guest from Rome, but none know any more than Gawen already does.

Theli scowls back at Magan. Her mood has worsened since the scare in her room. She throws the lid shut with a bang and paces back and forth anxiously as the stable boys, now wide-eyed having seen the chest's contents, heave the heavy load up onto the carriage's roof and strap it down.

Felix Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23

While all this is going on, something about a man on the other side of the street jumps out at Felix. He seems to be watching the group of people gathered around the carriage. This isn't unusual in and of itself, but he is clearly trying not to be obvious about it. It's more than that though. Something niggles at the back of Felix's mind. Something that made him notice this man in the first place. He's big - nobody could miss that - both tall and wide with short cut black hair and beard. More than that though, Felix recognises the man. He's definitely seen him before, but where? Then it strikes him. This was one of the five men sat around Arthek's camp fire just a few nights ago.

Theli sighs dramatically and throws open the lid of the heavy oaken chest. It is full of silver and gold presumably her accumulated wealth. She glances left and right furtively, looking to see if anybody has seen what they are carrying.

"Satisfied?" she hisses through her teeth.

"Dun!" Tregereth exclaims through a broad grin full of crooked teeth. He counts Gawen out a weighty pouch of silver and gathers up the potions for his inventory.

"Pleasure doin' business wit'ye!"

Meanwhile, when Felix moves to check Theli's trunk she defensively tries to refuse him. Insisting that these are her private belongings and none of his business.

"Two 'undred," Tregereth replies quickly, obviously keener to make the deal than he wants to let on. "Often enough. Dunsford's a wander west, b'Lowenna thinks everythin' east o't'moor is 'er business."

Tregereth hums and haws to himself, clearly making a show of it.

"'Undred an' fifty silver a piece? Seeker leads t'circle... Lowenna leads it int'trouble if y'ask me. Which nobody does by t'way."

Theli hastily gathers her possessions and settles her account with the innkeeper, who has a pair of stable boys carry a large and clearly heavy chest down from her chambers.

"Where might I store my belongings for transport?" Theli asks Magan, her pride slowly returning to her manner.

Felix finds nothing unusual, except some exceptionally shiny lint around the bedposts.