Alair - Holy Wars |
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 DM Note: No Derek this evening, so mainly Hougaard and Egia. |
Riding boldly through the drizzle along the road towards the village, the three walked their horses to a halt at the checkpoint, as two bored-looking soldiers straightened from where they'd been sitting. It was their first close sight of Nhasedan soldiers, and all three took a close look. Of the same basic stock as most men of the Southlands, the Nhasedans tended to be slightly darker and swarthier than most Stryrans. Each was dressed in a heavy sark of scaled armour over a leather gambeson with a plain white linen tunic underneath, light boots with metal splints and a conical helmet that came down around the sides of the face. Each was armed with a curved scimitar and a short, double-recurve bow, and these two had spears as well.
As they came up, one lifted a laconic hand. "Halt," he said, "please state your business - oh!" He had just noticed Egia's paladin insignia. As he saluted and stepped aside, he said, "Pardon, ma'm, but I do have to ask your business anyway." She glanced down at him, her dislike of these heathens coming over as disdain. "We're here to investigate these reports of monsters," she said. "What's it like here?" she asked. The soldier shrugged. "Frankly, it's the worst posting I've ever had. Oh, the village is more or less under control, but these monsters!" He paused and glanced around Egia, past Ghlaads and Hougaard, at the empty road. "Er, didn't you bring any reinforcements?" he asked. Hougaard squared his shoulders. "She did," he said flatly, "me." The man caught something in the Unfettered's eyes. "Uh, no offence," he said, "blessings of the One to you." as he lifted his index finger in the holy gesture of the followers of the One.
"So," said Egia, "tell me about these monsters." The man sighed. "We've lost six men to them, or at least they're missing."
"Any villagers?"
"Oh, yes, quite a few, but they're just peasants, you know?"
"Mnn. Who's in charge?"
"Military, Warlord-Deacon Calagond. Overall, Senior Priest Manarkis."
"Good. How many priests has Manarkis brought?"
"There are ten Enlightened of the One here," said the soldier, obviously carefully remembering to give proper titles where appropriate.
Egia thought a moment. "Any authority on the local side?" The soldier considered. "There's the constable, Amkos, and a couple of the merchants have some control. Other than that, no." Egia looked down at the man from her horse. "What's your name, soldier?" she asked. "Yatrog; at your service, Lady Paladin!" She eyed him sternly. "Ensure you are devout, Yatrog," she said significantly. "I will be watching." The man plunged to his knees and delivered a short but heartfelt prayer.
In their homeland, someone who did that would be looked at rather strangely; here, judging from the reaction of the other soldier - mild approval, as if for a thing of shared feeling well-said - this sort of thing was perfectly normal.
He resumed his feet, and the party rode on over the lip of the dell and down into Turil.
As they rode, Hougaard noticed several of the shops were shuttered and empty, and further into the town, several buildings had been burned out - including the rather larger houses belonging to the two knights. Egia glanced around, trying to get a feel for the scale and stance of the military presence. In her assessment, the Nhased had left a small garrison to hold the place, and they didn't look like they were planning on going anywhere any time soon.
As they passed the site where the new temple of the One was being built, Egia ground her teeth at the sight of the common folk working away under the watchful eye of Nhasedan soldiers. Several priests were standing around, clutching paper plans and giving directions. Following the map Ravin had drawn for them, the three heroes crossed the square towards the nearest of the village's two taverns, the Lazy Goat. As they did, they passed close to the ominous scorched patch next to the scaffold, and Egia's senses reeled at the injustice of the slaying that had recently taken place there.
Walking into the Lazy Goat, all three were struck by how quiet it was - they were the only customers, and the disconsolate-looking man behind the bar the only staff. The bar was shrouded in cloth and no barrels were to be seen behind it. In a flash, Hougaard and Egia remembered something they'd read in the Farrox temple's notes on the cult of the One but not really digested - alcoholic drink was forbidden to the faithful. The cause of the landlord's unhappiness became apparent... Seeing their insignia, he made sure to bow, but his discontent was clearly visible despite his attempts to hide it. "Good morning; I am Crismir," he announced. "Do you require rooms?"
"Yes," replied Egia."Rooms for three, and do you have stables?" Crismir nodded, then reluctantly added, "Most people stable with Zelmyr at the eastgate." His dislike for the horse-trader was clear in his voice. "No, that's fine," said Egia, "I think they'll be better here." Crismir's mien lightened a little at this. "There's plenty of room," he said, "we've no other horses in." Hougaard looked around. "Do you have anyone in, or are we the only guests?" he asked. "No, you're it," he replied. "Most priests stay at the town hall, and the soldiers are all billeted in the old constabulary." The Unfettered nodded approvingly. "Please let us know if anyone else books in," he instructed. He glanced at the empty tables. "We're investigating these tales of monsters," he added, "we'll be using this tavern to interview them - is that all right?" he finished briskly, in a manner that really invited only one possible answer. "That'll be fine," mumbled Crismir.
A short while later, as they descended from their plain but comfortable rooms, Hougaard spoke to the landlord again. "How long have you had these ... problems? Have the attacks increased?" he asked. Crismir shook his head, looking if possible even more doleful. "Steadily," he said, "since about a week before... the liberation," he was careful to use the acceptable word. "Do you know anyone who actually saw one?" asked Egia. "Yes," said Crismir immediately - slightly to their surprise. "Ignizar the potter saw one; he's a mess. If you want to talk to him do it early, because he won't stir from his home or unbar the door after dark. Constable Amkos, too, and he's a reliable witness if there ever was one." Hougaard nodded in satisfaction. "Round 'em up," he said, "we'll start with them."
While Crismir attended to this, Hougaard and Egia crossed the square again to the village's Town Hall. Like all the rest of the town, it was made of the softwood that grew in such abundance around the village, and - for a place this size - was a fairly impressive building. Confidence boosted by the success of their masquerade, the paladin and the unfettered walked up the steps, nodded to the two guards without stopping, and strode inside. There, they discovered a desk, probably once used by the constable on duty to take reports of missing goats and drunken husbands. Now, two impassive Nhasedan soldiers flanked an efficient-looking priest, who sat at a desk covered in papers. Not giving him any time for doubts, Egia strode up to the desk and explained their 'mission', requesting access to the Warlord. The man glanced at Egia, and Hougaard; but they looked very much like who they said they were. It was easy; after all, in almost every respect, they were. He disappeared into the back of the building and emerged only a few minutes later to confirm that Deacon Calagond would see them straight away.
Ushered into what had almost certainly been the mayor's office, they discovered a heavyset, dark-bearded man in a more ornate version of his soldiers' armour seated at a desk, flanked by two more guards. A plumed helmet sat on the desk next to him, used to hold down some of the curlier papers. He looked up, and smiled welcomingly. "Greetings!" he boomed, "What brings you to this Oneforsaken flyspeck, my friends? Sit, sit!" he waved at some chairs in front of the desk.
"We've come to investigate reports of a ... creature ... causing chaos," said Hougaard. Calagond threw his head back and laughed, a great rolling laugh that seemed to bounce off the walls. "The tales these peasants tell!" he said. "Some people will believe anything. What's causing chaos, my fine detectives, is locals who can't accept reality, spreading rumours and trying to panic people. If you want to help - smoke 'em out! There's no boogeyman - just malcontents. And that bloody story-teller; we should make an example of her, like we did that priest the other day." Egia and Hougaard wrestled down their shock. The scorch mark outside was where one of the priests of Belisama had been burned at the stake - martyred! He chuckled again. "I'll lend you some men if you need them; they need something to do to take their minds off fairy stories. Don't let common soldiers take you in, either," he added, "there never was a more superstitious bunch." Hougaard lifted an eyebrow. "And if we catch a monster?" he asked. Calagond chuckled appreciatively. "Bring it to me," he said, his tone making it clear he regarded this as unlikely in the extreme. "Mount it on my wall!" He gestured to the wall behind them, and they involuntarily glanced at it.
Attached to that wall was a map of the surrounding area. Hougaard stared at it, the realization trickling down his back like icy water. This map was worth more than gold, than gems, than jewels. It showed every enemy unit for fifty miles, their strengths, their planned movements, everything. He ran his eyes quickly along the track Calagond's own unit had followed to reach Turil, noting the ancient ruins that they had passed marked twenty miles to the east. With all his mind he tried to commit the map to memory in one short look, then turned unhurriedly back to Calagond.
| DM Note: A close-run thing as to which was worse; Egia's Bluff check, or Calagond's Sense Motive. |
"You've had your time wasted," concluded the Warlord-Deacon. "Some of these heathen peasants have taken to the trees, that's where they've gone. Trees; too many trees. They'll have to go." Egia tried to sound accommodating. "How can we help?" she asked. "Stamp them out," said Calagond flatly. He shook his head to clear it of the topic. "Anyway," he asked, "what news did you bring? How are the others doing? Any sign of the Faithless making a counterattack?" He seemed hungry for news of home, but Egia of course didn't know any. She tried to bluff it, but floundered. Fortunately, he seemed to form the opinion that she was either unsophisticated or dim, and waved them away. Cold, hateful glares followed them as they recrossed the square to the Lazy Goat, leaving them encouraged; the people of this village were not beaten down yet!
| DM Note: In point of fact Allan took part in the interviews with the potter and the copper, but this seemed to conflict with the urgent need to get the map re-drawn, so I've smudged reality and put his words into the mouth of the playerless Ghlaads for this scene. Meh, sue me.. |
As they walked into the once-bar, they found two men waiting for them, one a burly middle-aged man in studded leathers, presumably Amkos the constable, and the other a grey-faced, red-eyed, broken-looking man with a constant twitch who had to be Ignizar the potter. Hougaard carried on upstairs, desperate to commit what he remembered of that map to paper before he forgot it. Ghlaads and Egia sat down with Ignizar to see what they could learn from him.
Ignizar related his tale, a sorry story of walking home from the tavern one night with a friend, of a barely-glimpsed shadow leaping in and sending him sprawling - here he showed a cut that could have come from anywhere - as it grabbed his friend and bore him away, crumpling him up in its' hands like cloth. all that was left was some blood and his hat. Egia was blunt. "Where's the evidence?" she said. Ignizar recoiled, a light almost of madness in his unhinged eyes. "You people," he spat, meaning the invaders in general, "don't trust me. People I trust, have known all my life, they have seen! I have seen!" His voice sank from almost a scream to a near-inaudible, desperate mutter. "I wish to all the Triad that I had not," he concluded.
"What do you think it was?" asked Ghlaads quietly. "A demon!" cried Ignizar, "some kind of demon, it couldn't have been human." It was clear he had no idea. "There were dreadful sounds, beast sounds, no man makes sounds like that. Howling, howling." Egia leaned forward. "Howling... like a wolf?" she asked. "Yes, yes it could have been," he said. They sent him home and spoke to Amkos.
A steady, sensible man, exactly the sort to choose as village constable, he seemed the last man to make up or pass on maunderings of this sort. Yet his story agreed with Ignizar's in most aspects. He had witnessed one of his patrol taken, though again not clearly. Strain showded on his face too; the dual burden of being unable to stop his townsfolk being murdered as well as having refused to join his sergeant in a suicidal and futile defence of the village which left half the watch dead was weighing on him.
"Were there any odd happenings before the invasion, before the attacks?" asked Ghlaads. Amkos thought. "The first to disappear," he said slowly, "was the wizard." Egia and Ghlaads looked at each other. "Wizard?" asked Ghlaads. "Yes, well, we called him a wizard," said Amkos, "I don't know if he was any good. But he was the first to vanish. His house is boarded up still. His name was Vezdor." He gave them directions to find it, and left. The sisters joined Hougaard in his room, where he had carefully drawn as much as he could remember of the map. Ghlaads eyed it nervously; no cover in the world would hold for them if they were discovered with that in their possession. Hougaard wrapped it in some cloths and shoved it deep into his Bag of Holding, before joining them in investigating the wizard's house.
The small house was firmly boarded up, and Hougaard attacked the panelling, pulling pieces away to gain access. He was half-way through this when a Nhasedan patrol appeared, drawn by the noise, and tried unsuccessfully to get him to stop. Their appeal to Egia was met with "We need access to this building, on the authority of the Church. Check with your superiors. In the mean time - assist him!" The patrol leader compromised by sending a soldier to check, and posting a guard on the building in case the answer came back negative. Hougaard and Ghlaads entered the house, while Egia waited outside with the soldiers to reassure them.
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Carefully exploring, they found the small dwelling unremarkable. A bedroom upstairs, a living room and workroom downstairs. A small cellar was laid out with a neat pentagram, causing Hougaard to consider if Vezdor had perhaps summoned something beyond his ability to control; but Ghlaads shook her head. "A badger or small elemental's about all this is good for," she said dismissively. She was disappointed in the 'wizard' already, but the contents of his spellbook underlined this - clearly he was pretty much a beginner. Of much more interest was a small glowing stone they found on his workbench. Despite the radiance and its' being slightly warm to the touch, Ghlaads reported that it radiated no magic at all. Some notes on his workbench indicated that he'd found the stone a month and a half ago in the forest, under the roots of a recently-fallen tree. He noted that it glowed more intensely when he held it, and slightly more so when he stood close to it. Ghlaads and Hougaard experimented, but no combination of their holding or not holding it altered the radiance at all.
The majority of his work, however, seemed given over to research on the Tower of Anarkos. Over the course of a year or so, he had speculated, theorized, experimented and pondered over how to get into the tower, which he was convinced was hollow despite its' utter lack of windows or doors. Ghlaads snorted. "Some of this is just utter rubbish," she declared. Hougaard pocketed the gem, and the pair emerged, to find the soldiers of the patrols in a far more respectful mood, quite eager to help board the house back up again.
Letting Egia and Ghlaads to talk to them, Hougaard slipped away to take a closer look at the mysterious Tower. The stonework was extremely fine, but so old that the stone itself had weathered significantly, and Hougaard reckoned he could probably climb it. Probably. He knew his training in balance would allow him to slow his fall to some extent, but the 150' of the Tower was beyond what even he could survive falling from. Carefully, he gathered some rope and spikes from his Bag of Holding, and addressed himself to the climb.
After thirty feet or so, he dug into his belt and pulled out a spike and his hammer. Carefully, he aligned it with a joint in the wall and walloped it with the hammer. To his surprise and dismay, the iron spike bent like clay, leaving no mark on the stone of the wall. Hougaard swallowed hard. He was going to have to do this climb the hard way...
Slowly, carefully, he worked his way up the side of the tower, until he reached the point where the sides converged to form the domed top. Here he was able to loop his rope around the conical top and put a safe belay between himself and the heart-stopping drop below. Once he'd got his breath back, he unpacked the gem and examined it. It seemed to be glowing slightly brighter, he thought. Packing it away, he examined the domed top of the structure, and located faint lines, almost like joints, in the stone, though he could find no way of opening them if they were some sort of door.
Bracing himself against the wall, he abseiled slowly down again, checking the gem every so often and observing that it did indeed fluctuate in brightness at different points down the wall, though there were no visible differences in the stone.
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Session Date: 30th January 2013 |
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