 DM Note: For those not wanting to follow the link, here it is:Details of the illegal drug pipelines and distributon process. Not many drugs are illegal in Tarlanor, so this is restricted to some exotic poisons, sold to the Assassins, and the psychothaumic drugs outlawed by Skufruss, dealt to members of the Mageguild. One of the names on the list is Erilas…. [Shared with the party & kept] . |
Gorfang had spent some time the previous day flogging off some of the loot from the ambush, but had discovered that the Mageguild had only a limited interest in buying weapons; the price they'd offered for Elvond Gorion's sword had been derisory. As a result, he went down to the guild of mercenaries. This was a bit disappointing after Lossal's rather extensive operation; more a clearing-house for people to hire swordsmen from than anything else. Their welcome was gratifying to the orc. Most of the mercs lounging around the place hoping for a hire had been on the walls the previous day, and they seemed to feel Gorfang had shown the city that even here, there were things wizards couldn't do that warriors could. He was greeted with shouts of approval and general respect by the battered, scarred bruisers. Lynien and Eloy appeared to be lumped in with him for generalized approval, though neither wanted to be famous or well-known anywhere if they could avoid it.
Lynien amused herself idly reading the scraps of paper describing job offers while Gorfang was conducting his business. A name caught her eye; Radinyr Piercehaunt was shipping a very valuable cargo from Belegond and wanted top-rate guards.
She'd seen that name before, and a moment's thought brought it to mind. He was the merchant linked into was one of the capers that the Lossal thieves' guild - the old guild, with it's lords and ladies - had had a pretentious finger in, and somewhere she still had some documents about it. The psychothaumic drugs were presumably still slipping into the mageguild despite Skufruss' prescription; having met Heartmaster and seen the power of the Firstborn, she began to understand Skufruss' dislike of the psionic. She pointed it out to Gorfang, as a possibility for making some money or favour from Skufruss by boosting the shipment, but he wasn't interested.
Gorfang had located a small counter at the back of the room, where a grizzled oldster sat, wearing a leather-and-iron cap to prove he had once been a warrior. Swords, axes, bows, maces, and daggers hung from the wall behind him. Gorfang looked down at him. "Do you buy weapons?" he asked. The oldster grinned a gappy grin. "Course we do!" he replied cheerfully. "Every so often a brother don't come back, and his widow comes to get something for his gear; we call it the retirement plan. And there's always a young rip wants a bigger sword before he goes out on a hire." Gorfang placed Gorion's hand-and-a-half sword on the counter. "What about this then?" he asked. The old boy picked it up. "Elvish work, b'th looks of this," he commented. He weighed it in his hand and rolled his wrist around to check the balance, then boinged it on the counter and listened to the note. He picked a bit of firewood up from his fireplace and chopped it in half. Then he looked around, suddenly furtive, and seeing only Gorfang and Eloy were watching, twiddled his fingers and muttered for a moment as he cast a surreptitious spell. "They get uncomfortable when I do that," he explained, shrugging slightly. "It's a beauty," he said, "I'll give you fifty-three and a half in gold." "Sixty," Gorfang bounced straight back, establishing the boundaries of the negotiation. Five minutes later it was sold for fity-five and both were pleased with the trade.
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Gorfang and Lynien went down to visit Lynnil the mastersmith. As promised, their mithril mailcoats were ready, and they exceeded all their expectations. The workmanship was magnificent; Gorfang's had big strong rings backed and trimmed with black leather and iron wire. Lynien's had the tiniest of rings, each treated to a brushed, non-reflective finish, and shaped to mould to her supple form under her outer clothes. The gemstones she had provided were fitted flush into cunning mountings as requested, and Lynnil showed how she could detach them so she could leave them to be enchanted while still wearing the armour.
Lynnil shook their hands as they took the coats. "It was a joy to work with the stuff," he said, "If you ever get any more, come back to me?" Gorfang assured him that they would, feeling it was safer not to say anything about the ten pounds each had over.
Back at the Mageguild, Gorfang picked up the slow teleportation ring he'd requested for shipping supplies to Gadûhvrás, and they went to see Skufruss, with Eloy joining them. It was reward time, and they pressed him for the items they'd requested. Gorfang proposed a deal whereby he would put in equal money to the cost of enchanting the shirts to match what they'd asked of Skufruss, to get double. The Lord of Tarlanor considered this but refused to commit himself; he had only a few magesmiths capable of work on that scale and he had to check what else he had need of them for. Likewise, he politely indicated that extra enchantments on Lynien's gemstones were her own responsibility - unless they earned further favours, of course.
They asked if there were any tasks he had in mind. Skufruss thought for a moment. "There may be a killing I need done," he commented, "but I'm not ready to decide on that yet. There is one other job I have in mind, and now I come to think of it, you three are perfectly suited to it."
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"There is a dragon... named Setram." All three schooled their faces to hide their various reactions. "He is a dragon of great power, living free, and this is really too crowded a world for a free dragon on that scale. Sooner or later, some knight will prod him fatally. He'd be much better off working for me. I would like you to get him for me; capture, or trick him into coming within my range, either is good." "He had his hoard stolen I hear," Lynien commented. "There you are," said Skufruss. "My dragons' hoards are quite safe. Even if one is away, there are other dragons all around to guard the fire-heights, and strong magic prevents them robbing each other."
Gorfang glared. "Where did you get this information?" he demanded. Skufruss spread his hands. "I am as a king," he said diplomatically, "I have many sources of information. Some I must keep secret." The orc thought it pretty likely that one of the party must have told the Kin Lord, but he had no proof. "No," he said abruptly, "I'm not interested." Eloy tried to salvage things. "Perhaps we could locate him, so you could teleport there and bag him yourself, for a smaller fee?" he suggested. Lynien and Gorfang seemed strangely unenthusiastic, though.
"I'll leave it with you," Skufruss said at last.
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On the way home, they stopped in at the Thieves' Guild, where Milas the daymaster greeted her with a laconic wave of the hand. She and Eloy looked around at some of the jobs posted on the wall, and among them she found an aged, yellowing scrap of parchment. She took it down and read it. It designated the town house of an Earl named Tirpad Tigertooth as a valid target, and recommended only senior thieves with some hired blades to tackle it. Usual Guild percentage (20%) to be paid, date and time planned to be advised to the Guild, all standard stuff. This made Lynien's mouth water; but why had it been here so long?
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Milas laughed slightly. "Oh, that," he commented. "Place is a death-trap. One thief did try, when it first went up. We only got a finger back. Tigertooth is famous for his traps; word is he hired real dwarvish artificers to build some of them." Lynien pocketed the slip. "Sounds just my thing," she said with a smile.
Back at the palace, Lynien retired to her room and tried on her new mailshirt. It came with an undershirt of the lightest, fine-tanned leather, as soft as silk, and over that she drew the shirt. The feel as the links flowed down over her body was positively sensuous, and she wriggled it into place with pleasure; it was so light! Not bothering to dress any further, she went down the hall to Eloy's room and jiggled about a bit to see if she could get his heart-rate up. Quite pleased with the results, she returned to her own room, giggling.
Later that afternoon, the three of them went into the wealthy part of Vorsand to have a look at the town-house of Tirpad Tigertooth. Like all the other powerful nobles of Tarlanor, Earl Tirpad had extensive estates elsewhere in Tarlanor, but like all those of his class that could afford it, he maintained a town-house in the capital.
Like the other nobles', his was a tall, narrow building with a few outbuildings clustered around its' base, set within a small garden and enclosed in a ten-foot wall. Gold-chased steel railled gates filled the archway.
Lynien walked around, looking and learning. She eyed the walls, then snapped a branch from a tree growing in the road and chucked it over. It hith the ground with an unremarkable thump, but the next moment a bone-chilling growl rose from the garden. It was animal not sentient, so even Ta'nara could not understand what it meant, but by volume and tone, they reckoned it was probably a very large animal - it sounded vaguely feline.
Then she scaled the outside of the wall of the next house, so that she could look down into the garden from cover. She studied it for a few minutes, then settled back into the branches and sighed in delight. Whoever had built this place was a true genius. The tops of the walls were alive with magic and lined with traps; the gates were trapped both physically and magically. The building itself had been built so as to take every possible opportunity to provide places to set up tricks and traps, and by the looks of it they had all been taken up. Milas was right; the place was a death-trap.
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Eloy meanwhile had wrapped himself in his Cloak of the Bat and transformed himself into a bat. He flitted up so he could see over the top of the wall, meaning to fly over for a better look. As he did so, he scanned the garden; several of the plants he recognized from the book on the Trakar's wildlife he'd read once as some of the most dangerous plants to be found in that nightmare morass. Then something caught his eye, slinking through the plants in the garden. A beast, longer and taller than Shamlakh though probably no wider, feline in nature and dark purple in colour. Weirdly, it had six legs, and two long tentacles sprouting sinuously from its' shoulders - marking it as either an outsider or a breed of curst. It was also blurry and hard to see properly, an effect that looked magical. The combination of deadly plants and a giant creature of the cat variety - when he was occupying the form of a flying mouse - were enough to change Eloy's mind about being first into the place, and he descended.
Gorfang, left alone in the uncomfortably tidy street, turned his head as a sound caught his attention. Marching feet were approaching, and as he watched a squad of armoured men appeared around the corner of Tigertooth's mansion wall. There were seven of them, and the spirit stance of Hektis showed Gorfang that the man at the front was the most able. He was getting used to the ability, and it seemed to him that none of these were especially skilled. This was borne out by their appearance - they were easily the most decorative soldiers he had ever seen. Brilliantly burnished mail, adorned with useless ornamentation and trimmings, flowing white cloaks, light open-faced helmets with plumes.... they looked more like a flower-bed than a squard of guards.
The leader came up to Gorfang and saluted. "Good evening sir!" he said crisply, "We're investigating the triggering of one of the alarms set on this property. Have you seen anything suspicious?" It occurred to Gorfang that it took a special kind of person to encounter himself in a place like this, and then ask a question like that.... "No," he said. "I assume the alarm's inside, though? Why don't we go and have a look and see if everything's all right?" The squad leader shook his head. "No, sir," he said, "we are tasked with keeping the streets of this district safe, but our jurisdiction doesn't extend inside the properties." Gorfang blinked. "So what will you do if he is being robbed?" he asked in disbelief. "Raise the alarm," replied the man rather lamely. "I tell you what," said Gorfang, "why don't we... what was your name?" "Dace. Corporal Dace." "Ring the doorbell and ask?" Dace seemed a bit dubious, but Gorfang located the bellpush and gave it a healthy shove.
Far away, a bell rang. Then, after a pause, the house door opened and closed, and all the watchers saw an elderly man emerge from the house and walk down the path towards the gate. Several of the lethal Trakaran plants stirred and leaned towards him, sensing prey, but he was surrounded by a pale yellow nimbus of light and they recoiled, leaving him unmolested. He reached the gate and peered through. Gorfang spoke as he arrived. "Has this house been invaded?" he asked. The man shook his head. "No, nothing's wrong," he said, slightly puzzled, then saw the squad. "Corporal Dace!" he said warmly. "Good morning; are the streets safe today?" "Yessir!" clipped back Dace, standing to attention, but Gorfang heard in the old retainer's voice what Dace had not; that he regarded Dace and his men as of little use, fit for moving on beggars and not much more. Dace cleared his throat. "An alarm was triggered," he said. The old man glanced around. "Ah. A branch seems to have fallen into the garden," he said. "I will speak to the gardeners. Good morning." He turned and walked back to the house, and the slightly crestfallen Dace saluted and led his men away.
Lynien and Eloy rejoined Gorfang once the coast was clear. "I'm going to the pub," said Gorfang. They agreed to meet for dinner in the Drunken Bell and parted for the day.
Gorfang occupied that afternoon using the Slow Teleport ring to ship a consignment of supplies to Gadûhvrás. Perhaps to his surprise, the little colony was still there, and showing signs of getting organized. Shufghoth's orcs had marked out a slightly larger area of the caverns, which they had begun to fortify. Initial contact with the trolls had been improved on, and two were now helping build the fortifications, wearing crudely modified Thane armour. Gorfang stayed for a while, giving instructions and checking progress, and then returned to Vorsand.
Later that evening, the three companions were seated around a table in the Drunken Bell, washing down an excellent meal with some equally pleasant drinks. They were still debating the pros and cons of the various possibilities the day had presented, when sounds impinged on their attention. Familiar sounds; the noise of combat, screams and clangour of metal. They glanced at each other, picked up their drinks, and headed out into the street, along with a fair percentage of the inn's customers, to see the entertainment.
For a little while, there was nothing to see, though the sounds were louder and clearer and were obviously coming closer. Then a group of marching figures came into view, heading up the road straight towards the Drunken Bell.
At the front was a unit of twenty human-like soldiers, clad in mail and carrying swords and shields. Towering behind them were other figures, instantly recognizable; the lizard folk who used the black daggers. There were four of the big Thanes, two of the blue dagger-carriers, and a different-looking example of each type, not previously seen.
Lynien instantly went invisible and slipped past the oncoming force to loop behind them. Gorfang and Eloy stayed at the front of the crowd outside the bar, most of whom weren't sure what to make of the newcomers. Were they customers, a parade, an invasion? Lynien, who was closer, could see blood on some of their blades, and in any case the party knew who and what these creatures were! A moment later, their nature was illustrated for the onlookers.
A door opened in a building next to the road, roughly level with the force, and a figure stepped out. UInsurprisingly for Tarlanor, he was dressed as a mage, and perhaps unwisely he cast a spell at the marching creatures. It fizzled to nothing as it reached the nearest Thane, and he gestured peremptorily. Immediately, five of the footsoldiers peeled off, sprinted over to the caster, and cut him down without compunction or mercy. At the same moment, one of the blue-green lizards noticed Gorfang and Eloy, shouted and pointed at them, and the whole unit broke into a jog towards them, readying blades as they did so.
The onlookers reacted in one of two ways. Some screamed and scattered; the more martial cursed and began to draw their own swords or ready spells. Most seemed unwilling to become involved though, and it was Eloy, Lynien and Gorfang that reacted first.
Eloy and Lynien opened up with bows. Lynien selected the biggest Thane - the one of a type they'd not seen before - and sent four arrows slamming into his back. Having sneaked up to within 20' or so, she was able to use her training to select especially nasty strike points, and she had dipped the arrows in paralysis poison to boot. The monster never stood a chance; he was flung forwards onto his face and never moved again. Eloy aimed his missiles to try and clear a track for Gorfang, shooting three of the not-human soldiers down one after the other, down the same file of the unit, clearing a gap right through them for Gorfang's charge.
Gorfang, perhaps because of the ale he'd drunk, or the fact that he'd just dropped his last pint half-drunk, lost his temper. Red washed across his vision as he went into a screaming blood rage, and he thundered down the street and into the space Eloy had made in the ranks of the soldiers. One or two managed to strike at him as he went past, but his instinctive riposte killed one and crippled the other. Then he was through to where the Thanes waited. Stopping short, he hefted his weapons and set his feet - and then the killing began.
Lynien changed targets to the blue-green lizards dropped one and wounded another. Her poison wasn't doing much, and neither was Eloy's, and it struck them that the native toughness these creatures used instead of magic made them extremely resistant to venoms. None the less, Eloy managed to take out another as the soldiers began to falter.
| DM Note: Thank God! A prisoner; now we can find out what they're called and I can refer to them by name. |
Gorfang strode across the cobbles, smiting right and left, and neither lizard nor not-human could stand against him. Four thanes, the last blue lizard (who had started to cut a gateway) and the different blue lizard, were down in mere seconds. The area near him was clear and he looked around for more opponents, as Lynien sank an arrow into the arm of one of the soldiers and nodded ruefully as her new poison finally worked and he locked into paralysis and toppled helplessly to the ground. Next to him, the last survivor, unwounded, dropped his sword and raised his hands.
The remaining spectators raised a cheer, and the companions looked around, wondering at how easy this had been. It was at that point that they realized that the distant sounds of battle and death had not diminished. Smoke was rising over the rooftops in several places, lit up from inside by the sooty glow of burning buildings, and the sounds of battle, now mixed with the crack and zap of battle magic, echoed across the city of Vorsand from many places....
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