"Mmm, that's right." Dane returns to his hammering with just the basics. Eventually, the suit of plate armor is ready for Sion, left in its Talingarde style, and with no additions made.
"A paladin's tomb? That sounds quite interesting. Hopefully, you made sure he stayed there. The Master gave us quite a gift...he had Sir Belin, the Mitran fool waiting for us down there. He came to a most painful end, I assure you," he adds with a nasty smirk.
"If we can ever be of assistance to you, please let us know. We'd be glad to help further the cause."
Anton trains hard under the Master and Tiadora, despite his weakness. This training will only better me... and these allies will help to bring the House Vitruvian to prominence again... Despite the woman's penchant for cruelty and pain (or perhaps because of it) Anton flirted with her, continuing the facade of their 'love' that began in the prison. She may spurn me now, but I plan the seeds and perhaps she will be mine some day. A fine specimen to carry on the House name.
After every training session, he heads back to his room to be bathed by the slavewomen and even taking one or more to bed, the few times he is alone with Tiadora, arousing him. I must sate myself for my health... and keep up practice after all. On the rare occasion, he has the slave wear the circlet and forces them to appear as the strange beautiful woman, but he typically finds something decidedly lacking in their performance. Still it allows him to keep his focus...
Tiadora proves uninterested in Anton's efforts, smirking in amusement at the bard's flirtations. The most he can coax from her is a bewitching smile but she is otherwise indifferent.
Aside from Trik, the other members of the Knot Hibernal tend to keep to themselves, though they are not rude, merely insular.
Finally the day of you first official mission arrives with the docking of an longship on the river pier. The crew remain in their vessel while you are kept inside the mansion, clearly a briefing is about to occur. Cardinal Thorn first calls in the Knot Hibernal, and briefs the four on some assignment. When their meeting is concluded the Seventh is dismissed and Thorn summons your group into his study.
“Welcome, my children,”
he says in a deep resonant voice that has an almost inhuman quality to it.
“The time has finally come. You have proven yourself worthy from your training and now it is time for you to use that training and take on your first mission.”
He leans forward on his chair, a cruel grin on his face.
“Your mission is war, my children. You will bring war to Talingarde.”
Regaining his composure, he elaborates.
“But I am getting ahead of myself. You have two objectives. First, you will see a shipment of munitions delivered to a bugbear chieftain named Sakkarot Fire-Axe. He makes his camp on the northern coast of Lake Tarik beyond the Watch Wall. With this shipment, the Fire-Axe will have resources enough to unite the barbarous humanoid tribes of the north and light the fire of war.”
“Sitting on the dock as we speak is the longship Frosthamar captained by Kargeld Odenkirk. Tomorrow when the ship is resupplied it will be your transport. The captain is a ruthless mercenary and not to be trusted. He knows nothing of the specifics of our mission and you should keep it that way. He knows he is smuggling cargo to the north beyond the Watch Wall. That is all he need know. Once the cargo is safely delivered, he will take you just south across the lake under cover of darkness and land you near the town of Aldencross. There our contract with Captain Odenkirk will be concluded.”
Thorn shakes his head in mock sadness.
“It is shame how greedy he has proven. I had hoped to let the captain serve me again but it seems he is too much of a liability. Kill him. Kill his crew. It is crucial that no one suspects our involvement and that loose ends are taken care of. Be sure to reclaim the coin I gave him. Best not to be wasteful. Burn the ship also, both to cover our tracks and to give the good captain a fitting burial.”
He allows himself a chuckle.
“That done, you will begin your second task. We will do more still to aid our ally the Fire-axe. The bugbears are mighty warriors but poor siege engineers. You will infiltrate the tower Balentyne, keystone of the Watch Wall, kill its commander and open the gate for Sakkarot’s horde. Once the shaggy monstrosities pierce the Watch Wall, the bugbears will pillage and lay waste to the townships of the north and the local garrisons will have no choice but to meet the Fire-Axe in the open field. Sakkarot is the most brilliant, gifted and murderous bugbear of his generation. I expect these battles will go poorly for the knights and yeoman of fair Talingarde.”
“Do all of this and then when your task is done, break this clay seal.” He hands them a delicately carved clay seal adorned with a tangled knot of thorns surrounding the holy symbol of Asmodeus. “I will have more instructions then. Succeed and I will see you rewarded handsomely. Fail or betray me and you will pray for the comfort of Hell before I am done with you.”
“The mission you start upon today is a holy mission. The people of Talingarde think they have seen the last of the mighty Asmodeus. Soon enough we will remind them that there is no escaping the grasp of Hell. Let us toast our success.”
He pours one glass of deep red wine for each of you and then finally pours one for himself. He raises the glass and offers a toast.
“To war.”
Dane finishes his forging only a day or two before Cardinal Thorn summons them together. Wearing his new armor, Dane listens passively to Thorn's synopsis of their orders. When Thorn raises his glass, Dane thumps the table with one hand and raises his glass with the other and declares, "To war!"
This is a big task for relatively new recruits. We must have really impressed the Master!
Durova follows the others lead in taking their toasts to success in their upcoming mission. "Remember, we must travel at night," the cleric whispers to the others.
[i]Indeed. To war[/i
Sion remained quiet but raised his glass along with the others. Starting a war hadn't even crossed his mind. Thorn must be ready to go all in if we are startng a war with Talinguarde.
Mordesel smiles. A war. May mean a power vacuum. He raises his glass high, To war!
He turns to Durova, whispering back, Or indoors. Such as on a boat.
That night he begins preparing himself for the trip on the morrow, packing all his things together.
Satisfied with your responses, Thorn dismisses you. The evening and night passes uneventfully and you use your remaining few hours to prepare your own supplies.
The next morning, Tiadora escorts you to the Frosthamar, although she doesn't bother with introductions. The icy woman explains bluntly that the ship holds twenty four tons of weaponry, arrows and shields intended for the bugbear hordes. She elaborates that they are emblazoned with a flaming axe, the symbol of Sakkarot Fire-Axe, and are weapons designed and intended for the northern goblinoids.
The Frosthamar itself is a single-masted knarr with a square sail. It is similar to the uncommonly seen Ulfen longships but wider and with a deeper hull better suited to carrying cargo. Sitting heavy in the water, the Frosthamar is obviously loaded with cargo. All this is obvious as you reach the pier.
"Remember the Cardinal's orders." Tiadora mutters as she turns to depart. With that she returns to the manor.
Barely a second later a bearded man emerges from the ship and approaches. The man, clearly the captain, is a grizzled north-man with a wiry beard, pale blonde hair and countless scars. His crew consists of a half dozen grim sailors, but they remain on the vessel.
He inspects your group with a grunt.
"The name's Odenkirk, and that's Captain Odenkirk to you. You will guard our boat all the way north, yes?”
Durova could already feel himself getting sick, and it was only the morning hours. As he approached the boat, he was glad to see that was a large enough cargo hold for he and the others to be out of the godsforsaken sun as needed.
"Pleasure to meet you Captain. I am Durova, and yes, we are here to guard the boat. Most of us will have to be below deck during the daytime hours, however. At night, we will take our turns out here, preventing any hijinxs from occurring."
Odenkirk frowns.
"Yeah yeah fine. Get your things on board, we're shipping out within the hour."
Sion collects a few last minute purchases before readying to leave. He walks down to the pier with the servant beside him carrying his belongings to store them on the boat. His black cloak covered most of the armour but when the breeze lifted it and the sun caught the armour it shone brighter than any armour normally would. Seconds later it appeared that he wore no armour at all. Simply a rusty sword help by a young and strong human male. "What do you think?" he asks no one in particular when he is finally on the boat and the servant has departed.
"No. We are not here to guard your boat. Thorn wants us to go with you north. So north we go as he commands. Can you not protect your own boat?"
Dane leads the mule dragging the cart and Dane's forge along. Dane offers a satisfied grunt to Sion. "It'll do, though I'm not sure I'd bother. 'Jack will be obvious regardless of how subtle you are."
When he approaches the dock, Dane nods to the Captain. "Captain, forgive the lad, he's foul tempered but good in a fight. I'll be acting armorer during the voyage. Once we get underway, I'm going to be inspecting the cargo most of the voyage, but I'll be on deck for the fighting and if your crew need repairs on their weapons or arms, and them to me."
You can also see the pendant taken from Balin worn around Sion's neck as he walks past the captain onto the ship. "How long will our voyage be and how dangerous do you expect our route to be?"
"Right. Well if you want to look after the cargo, go ahead. As for the ogre... He might be a problem but we can squeeze him in the cargo hold if we need to. From a distance it won't be a problem. If we get boarded, different story."
He turns to Sion.
"That depends. If we get a good wind and no delays, three weeks. Maybe a month if we're unlucky.
"Well, 'Jack, looks like you'll probably want to stay on deck unless we're passing another ship or something, eh? Just get yourself below decks if that happens, we're going to avoid most of the fighting here, best way to keep the cargo safe."
A well-dressed man in his late 30's begins limping down the pier, leaning on the decorated staff he carries, with his twisted leg thumping along. His clothing is fine, but not overly fancy. He looks like he may be the dignitary of a minor noble house.
He approaches, then turns to the captain, You know as well as we, that we are to ensure this shipment arrives. If you wish to phrase it so ineloquently, that is your prerogative. However, please try to remember that we are more than simply, "guards." Mordesel grimaces and begins working his mouth as if trying to rid himself of a particularly vile taste. Guards, are expendable and replaceable of which, we are neither. He looks around tapping his staff on the deck of the ship, Well, shall we be off?
[/ooc]
Criminal
Benefits: Select one of the following skills: Disable Device, Intimidate, or Sleight of Hand. You gain a +1 trait bonus on that skill, and it is always a class skill for you.
Augmented Disguise
Benefit: You gain a +2 trait bonus on Disguise checks when wearing a wig, false beard, or similar large prop, or if you are wearing a special costume or eye-catching bauble that reinforces your disguise. Disguise is now a class skill for you.
Trained Linguist
Benefits: You gain a +1 trait bonus on all Linguistics checks, and you automatically learn one of the following languages: Abyssal, Aquan, Celestial, Ignan, Infernal or Terran.
Gallant Imposter
Benefits: You gain a +1 trait bonus on Knowledge (nobility) and Knowledge (religion) checks. In addition, you gain a +2 trait bonus on both Disguise and Bluff checks while attempting to impersonate a knight.
Fatal Trapper
Benefit: You gain a +1 trait bonus on Craft (traps) checks and a +1 trait bonus on Disable Device checks made to disable traps.
Expert Forger
Benefit: You gain a +2 trait bonus when making or identifying forgeries in written documents. In addition, when you create a forged document the time required in only 1 minute per page (instead of 1d4 minutes per page).
After discussing these matters (and finding a place for Grumblejack) you set off down the Varnyn River.
The ship itself is functional but is hardly comfortable. Aside from the cramped and uncomfortable cargo hold, there are no cabins. The crew sleep under the stars during the night. The six crewmen, of similar Ulfen ethnicity to the captain, are an insular and superstitious lot who prove unable to speak the common tongue. Other than very basic commands, communication is next to impossible.
Despite these irritations, the first leg of the journey is placid and peaceful. It takes half a day to reach the open ocean. The Frosthamar hugs the coast and from the ship you can see countless farming communities
and fishing villages go by. More than a few fishermen wave at the Frosthamar. Kargeld is always sure to wave back.
“Wouldn’t want ‘em to get suspicious, eh?” he says with a glower.
The rations are hardtack and small beer, hardly the most appetizing of meals but enough to keep you all sustained (although Grumblejack, as befits his name, grumbles about the food).
The longship continues north, following the coastline.
Durova used the burning light of day to try to socialize with Grumblejack in the hold. He hadn't met the creature before, other than in passing, so he tried to communicate as well with him as possible. He was surprised just how civilized the monster was. At night, the cleric would head out on the deck and stretch his legs a bit, exploring his surroundings.
Sion paces the deck during the days. He was used to waiting days or weeks to accomplish something. But the sea wasn't his type of place to be. Unconsciously he was reaching for the potion that would save him in an emergency if he fell overboard somehow. His armour was heavy enough to give him trouble trying to swim.
"Bugbears are a violent lot. Let's hope they don't start a fight with us while we are there. Be ready anyway."
Most nights he climbed up to the crows nest and kept watch for several hours.
Looking at Sion, pacing and worrying about the weight of his armor. "Well, the bugbears are a part of the same scheme. It would do well for whoever is in command there to remember that. Still, it wouldn't hurt to be prepared. A show of strength, may be in order."
"Ahh, Daveryn..." I should look up some of my relatives the next time we visit. Assuming they're not completely destitute... or dead.
-------------
Anton, disguised as a minor, poor noble (not far off from the reality), spends his time chatting with the ship's crew when they are off duty, regailing them with sea shanties, bawdy limericks, and other stories. If we're going to have to kill them, I may as well have fun with them first... Turn some to our cause and perhaps use them in destroying themselves and the ship when it comes time...
Dane in particular seems unbothered by the ship's rations, if anything, he seems almost comforted by the cheap bland food. He regardless takes time in the hold to inspect the cargo, and ensure that it's of sufficient quality. If it is broken or shody, Dane does his best to repair the equipment, and ensure that it is properly kept from the elements.
As Dane works on polishing, sharpening, and generally maintaining the weapons due to the bugbears, Dane strikes up a conversation with whomever's nearby. "So, you've ever seen one of these 'bugbears' before? Interesting hafts these weapons have to deal with their rather brutish hands."
As the voyage goes on, Dane walks onto deck occasionally at night, missing Sion during his daytime prowls and keeps a watch out for trouble, glancing down at the sailors trying to get eyes on what weapons the captain and crew keep on hand for themselves.
Once satisfied that he knows what the crew will bring to bear against him when a fight for their lives breaks out, Dane settles himself down at the stern of the ship with his whetstone and weapons, and begins sharpening the lot of them, humming quietly to himself as he does.
The ogre dislikes the sea and the claustrophobic environment but bears it with little complaint. When Durova strikes up a conversation with him, he proves friendly, although he isn't much of a conversationalist.
"Don't much like the sea, but I willing to wait til we bash some heads."
He says with a chuckle.
He spends most of the time resting in the cargo hold, but does venture on deck during the night.
Anton schmoozes with the crew, but communication proves difficult. Still, the northmen do warm to the young noble and chat to him during downtime in broken common. The six of them are all males.
The captain ignores your attentions however.
Dane goes through the weapons and, although not of superb quality, finds they are well-crafted and maintained. As for the crew, they are far from seasoned veterans, but they seem to have some basic training with weapons. They have short swords, spears and shortbows at their disposal. Odenkirk, on the other hand, is never without his greataxe, and looks far more formidable.
Sion keeps watch when he can.
It takes almost a week of sailing before passing the great city of Daveryn. Captain Odenkirk insists that the ship sail on, bypassing the city entirely, and the ship continues north for several more days. He refutes any attempts to change his mind.
You are now approaching the inhospitable north, almost to the Watch Wall, and the temperature is slowly dropping.
During the night, the crew light lanterns on the sides of the ship.
Mordesel sees it first. It is in the late evening when the monk notices something from the north-west. After some uncertainly, it becomes clear that its another vessel approaching in the distance.
Captain Odenkirk curses.
"A patrol ship, damn it all. I'd recognise those accursed boats anywhere."
Odenkirk elaborates on the situation.
“She’s seen us, sure as damnation. And there is no way the ‘Frosthamar’ will outrun her loaded like this. One look at our cargo and they’ll know us for exactly what we are – weapons smugglers.”
Dane grumbles at the news. "Don't suppose you can just wave and be on your way?" Dane looks about the ship, inspecting his potential battlefield. Trying to come up with some kind of plan, Dane rephrases, "Well, Captain, is it a certainty we'll be boarded? Or is it merely a possibility?"
Odenkirk snorts.
"I'd bet my last copper piece that they're going to board us. We're a heavily laden foreign ship outside of the normal trade routes. It's a rare merchant vessel that travels this far north, that's enough to make them suspicious. I suppose if we can keep them from checking the cargo we might be able to talk our way out of it. Fat chance of that!"
"Leave the talking to us then. You clearly don't have a lot of people skills." Sion looks at the others, "I think we can handle it, talking or fighting. Though if it comes to fighting. Your axe would be helpful."
"In that case, a trap." Dane activates his disguise and morphs his armor and weaponry into more traditional looking Talingarde styles. "How good are you and your boys in a fight Captain? That'll help decide how much we need to rely on trickery as opposed to simple skill in direct conflict."
Captain Odenkirk smirks.
"If you think you can talk your way out of this, be my guest."
He says to Sion.
The Captain then turns to Dane.
"The crew can fight, but they're to keep to the back and pepper the enemy with arrows. I don't fancy the idea of losing my men, they're needed to maintain the ship. Still, if necessary, they will engage in melee."
Sion changes his disguise to copy that of Dane's with a few tailored difference to not appear too similarly dressed. "What are we going to tell them?"
Anton, already guised as a Talingardian noble, shrugs. I can be the noble, with you as my trusted guards and servants. I chartered this ship. I'm afraid our large friend may want to remain below for the moment, unless and until we need to spring our trap."
Mordesel looks at the ship for a moment, then, returning to the group he suggests, Perhaps some official paperwork might help with such a thing. If we were on an official errand of some kind, he would not need to check the goods. I can draw up the paperwork quickly, and I have the supplies, he says as he pulls out some paper and writing supplies.
Durova uses his circlet to change his garb to a close copy of the fineries that the others were now sporting. "Talking our way out of this would be much more preferable. If it doesn't work, Jack can be downstairs ready to pounce, and we might take them by surprise up here in the confusion."
Grumblejack ducks into the cargo hold. He knows better than to let his presence be known.
Captain Odenkirk shrugs. He rarely engages in legal trading, at least not in Talingarde, so is of little help. As far as he's concerned combat is the most likely outcome here.
Anton thinks about the area for a moment before nodding to himself."Being a lowly, seventh son, from a minor noble family, I've been sent on a small diplomatic and trade mission to the Yuktak. Their ivory skrimshaws can turn us a tidy profit in the south. Obviously, because of the rumors of goblinoids gathering, I need a decent complement of guards. The goblinoid presence could very well disrupt any land-based trade routes the Yuktak could take. Thus the ship," he says knocking on a nearby board. "There is also the opportunity to acquire seal pelts from their hunts and the gear they use for said hunting. Seal Isle is close enough we can try our own hand at it and avoid the goblinoid threat altogether."
He looks around. "How does that sound?"
Anton nods at Mordesel as the bard's linguistic skills, along with his knowledge of the area and it's nobility align in his mind. "Indeed. Together we can make a document that would legitamize our presence in the area. We can use the seal of the Lord from Estyllis, a nearby port town. I also recall the look of official ship documents. I am reasonably certain I could reproduce the appropriate layout."
"Sounds good to me. Let's go with that." Sion watches as Mordesel and Anton create the forged documents.
Alright, then let's get to work. Mordesel hands the writing supplies to Anton and bends down to help.
Anton moves below with Mordesel to begin work on the document, nodding as he accepts the supplies from the Monk. With Anton's knowledge, his personal skills at deception, and with Mordesel pointing out areas in the document that could use some minor correction, he produces a page in short order, blowing on the seal and ink to dry it. He takes another look at it in the light, before shrugging and rolling it into the ties and shape associated with an official document, typical of Estyllis.
He looks around at the others to make sure they are in a guise of a sort, or, at the least, hiding their Asmodean symbology. "I suppose we're ready enough," he says.
minutes to forge the documents.
Within a few minutes, the document is made. The ink had only just dried when the patrol ship looms close.
“Heave to in the name of the king!”
Captain Odenkirk grimaces, but order the crew to slow the ship. Within a few moments the ships are together and four armed men jump onto the Frosthamar.
The leader among them, a sheathed longsword at his side, looks at you all suspiciously. Nine more men remain on the patrol board, shortbows out and ready.
"You there. You're the captain of this vessel?"
The leader yells at Odenkirk.
"Aye. I'm Captain Odenkirk and this is my ship. There a problem?"
"Perhaps. Why is an Ulfen Knarr, heavily laden with goods, this far north? What is your purpose in these waters?"
Odenkirk turns and indicates Anton.
"This ship is chartered. Talk to this gentleman."
The man looks at Anton with a frown. Noticing him as a nobleman, he clears his voice and changes his tone somewhat.
"Sir, I am Captain Edward Sambryl. I must ask you, why you are in these waters?"
Dane takes a step to put himself partially in front of Anton, playing the role of a dutiful, mistrustful guard. He glares at the Captain, but remains otherwise silent.
Mordesel reaches out to retrieve the papers from his "master." He steps forward handing them on to the Captain. My master has been sent by Lord Estyllis on a diplomatic and trade mission to the Yutak. Here is our paperwork.
Sambryl gives Mordesel a piercing stare but nods at him regardless, seemingly convinced.
He takes the paperwork and glances over them.
"Hmm... These documents do give you rights to travel north. A diplomatic mission you say?"
He rubs his chin.
"Then why are you traveling in a foreign ship? Surely a more official vessel would be appropriate for an emissary from Lord Estyllis."
He hands back the paperwork to Mordesel. He seems to relax a little.
Anton leans forward, looking at the man. "The answer, Captain, I would have thought was obvious. There are several reasons. I'll give you two. First, the Ulfen is far more skilled at the vagaries of these northern waters. Second, as you may have heard, there are rumors of goblinoids massing to the north. One would expect that they would have a special desire to take down a proper vessel flying the Talingardian colours. An Ulfen vessel wouldn't draw nearly as much attention."
Anton waves his hand with a smile, "In any case, I presume everything is in order? Even with our precautions, I would prefer to be there and back sooner rather than later. Do we have your permission to continue on our journey, Captain?"
Captain Sambryl hesitates for a moment.
"My apologies for the interference sir, I had not been expecting a diplomatic envoy."
He turns to his men, indicating for them to return to the ship. They obey without hesitation.
"I shall leave you to your duties. Good evening sirs."
He says with a modest bow as he jumps back on board his vessel.
Within a few minutes the patrol ship heads south, out of view.
Captain Odenkirk breathes a sigh of relief. He gives Anton and Mordesel a grin and a nod of approval. Then he yells some orders to the crew in the Ulfen tongue and the ship continues north.
"Excellent work." Sion waves at some of the short bows. As the ship receeds back into the darkness he stares until he can see it no more.
"Tremendous job, gentlemen. Our presence is not noticed for yet another day, and no guards will end up missing. Like I said, tremendous!"
"Indeed, that was fine work, now we can get back to sailing without any of the crew list to slow us down." Once the patrol ship is a fair ways off, Dane drops his disguise and yells down the hatch "Oi! We fooled 'em off 'Jack, you can come out."