Session Twenty-One - February 12, 2005

Wherein the ongoing story of the FtF campaign may be found ...

Session Twenty-One - February 12, 2005

Postby Matt » Fri Feb 25, 2005 5:18 pm

Larane 15, 730 TR

The group has scarcely commenced breaking their fast in the common room of the Bridgetower Inn in Golotha when a tall, lanky but well-proportioned young man with brown hair enters by way of the door to the street. Assaying a cursory glance about the room, he steps over to Orsa and consults briefly with the innkeeper. Almost sensing it coming, the party members pause in their meals, tankards raised and breakfast sausage links poised on knifepoint, and watch Orsa nod blandly and gesture predictably in the direction of their table. The young man strides confidently over while the party members wordlessly adjust themselves around the table, making room for the youth, who introduces himself as Sir Baris Tyrestal and sits down.

Sir Baris is bearing a bastard sword and hand axe and is garbed in leathers, having left his scale armor strapped to a horse which is tethered outside the inn. Sir Baris explains that he had ridden south from Shostim and only arrived in town yesterday, having originally hoped to join the King’s army in its northward journey into Orbaal. Having missed the army by perhaps a tenday, Sir Baris sought the advice at the castle of Sir Tovar, who had suggested that the knight might serve crown and country by lending whatever assistance might lie within his powers to Bevan Palliser and her erstwhile companions. Having earlier discovered on their awakening this morning that Ardeth, per his plan, had already departed with his sister Arva for Coranan, Bevan and the others find their numbers depleted and welcome Sir Tovar’s referral with general approbation.

Curiosity overcoming a more seemly reticence, Bevan, Imarë and Ewen question the young knight regarding his background and proclivities further. Sir Baris explains that his uncle serves as constable at Themeson Keep under the present Earl of Techen, Osric Jothysan, and that he himself fought in the army of the Earl of Techen during the rebellion of the late Earl of Tormau two years previous. Sir Baris, as it happens, actually participated in the storming of Golotha by the royal forces, fighting with Techen’s forces up from their foothold on Kalphor Wharf, whereupon they experienced fierce combat. He was unfortunately among the troops who were driven into the canals during the melee and, sharing the unhappy fate of his lord, quickly contracted dysentery and was evacuated from the city.

Sir Baris stables his horse and moves his belongings into the Bridgetower Inn. Ewen approaches the innkeeper in the course of this and queries him about aquavit. Orsa explains that this strong liquor can vary widely in quality depending on the skill of the distillation, and indicates that he has one bottle on hand which he might part with for 10s. Ewen demurs for the time being and asks about a reputable apothecary, and Orsa provides directions to one Spalir’s shop halfway up Kalphor Street. Ewen also arranges with Orsa to furnish him a hogshead of ale, payable to the party spending account, for which he will stop by later in the evening.

Ewen and Imarë visit Nicola of Variens, where Ewen plays The Midget and the Elf and negotiates with Nicola for the song to be sold through her shop in an arrangement where Ewen will receive a one-third share of the half-shilling price of the music. He also alerts her that he intends to play a newly-composed song about Boraga the Embalmer at the Noose and Jester this evening, and Nicola expresses interest and the intention to be in attendance. Ewen asks Nicola about Borana the perfumer, whom Nicola understands has never married and who has evidently taken up with an underworld figure whom the group assumes is Slakka. Nicola knows little about the daughter or her paternity, but seems curious about the Ewen’s mention of the girl and his apparent resemblance to the child. She depicts Rahel of Aerth as having a history of spurning many young men who have paid her suit, thinks she must have been living in her huge home for some five years, but knows nothing of the lady’s paternity as well, thinking the father is probably deceased. Nicola appears thoughtful about Ewen’s questions as he and Imarë take their leave, as if she had never before considered these issues but finds them perplexing now that they have been raised.

Meanwhile, Bevan and Sir Baris have embarked for the Temple of Halea, with Bevan displaying the medallion bearing the royal arms as a means of getting past the Agrikans at the gate on the other side of the Rusu Canal. The guards see fit to challenge Sir Baris, who responds peremptorily to this, showing little concern in answering their bellicose treatment in kind. Impressively, he succeeds in outfacing the two Agrikans. They proceed up Arlun Way to the gate of the temple, ring at the bell, and are shown in after a peephole opens and a temple guard ascertains that their business is to bring a petition to the priestesses. The guards within the temple precincts are all handsome young men, wearing leather armor and bearing falchions without scabbards, and Bevan and Baris are required to leave their own weapons within a small cabinet just inside the temple gate. They reluctantly do so when the Haleans explain that they are effectively under siege here in the city and must see to the safety of the temple as best they can. The pair is shown into an antechamber and after a time a priestess, one of the Shenasenes, wearing the scanty, traditional garb of the Order of the Silken Voice, enters and queries them regarding their petition. Bevan offers two shillings donation, which is received by the priestess calmly, and explains that she seeks information about a woman named Ylla of Ravinargh, who might have been a Corathar of the temple over twenty years ago. The young priestess allows that she knows of no such person, but excuses herself to inquire with the Mistress of Acolytes, who may remember details from two decades past. Sir Baris requests refreshment, and shortly a tray with light ale is brought in. A half hour later the priestess returns, stating that temple records show no person bearing Ylla’s name, but she suggests inquiring at Shiran, where the temple evidently maintains records for all local chapters. Bevan and Sir Baris are invited to attend the next Shesneal ceremony, which is two days hence, where the virginity of two new adherents is to be sacrificed.

Bevan and Sir Baris proceed into Caer Chaftar to see Sir Tovar, the knight who traveled with us to Golotha and who was present when Sir Auram charged Bevan and Arva with the present mission. Security at the gate seems quite tight and well-coordinated, and the two are escorted under guard over the drawbridge, from which they can see the notorious Northhaven Wharf in all its sordid glory to the east. Soldiers of the VIII Legion lead them through the castle’s outer and inner courtyard, past massive portcullises and iron-bound doors, inside through an antechamber, up some stairs, and into the great hall. They await Sir Tovar in a sitting area to one side, and shortly the knight appears and greets Bevan and Sir Baris. Throughout the interview he seems steady, calm and self-possessed, and is occasionally mischievously ironic but always well mannered.

Bevan questions Sir Tovar on a number of matters, beginning with the Aerth clan. He describes Rahel as charming and attractive but possessed of sharp claws which have been the bane of many an admiring young man, and implies that he himself numbers among the previously spurned. He has no notion of who Rahel’s father might have been, suggesting he must have died prior to the inception of the current royal dynasty. He states that Parqu has been the Mangai representative on the council for many years. He wonders whether Bevan has succeeded in gathering the information Sir Auram wishes to know, and states that the “Morgathians rule the city and the Agrikans make it their playground.” He explains that Sir Zaurial’s uncle, Sir Klyrdes, is one of the Heptarchs in the Agrikan church, and that he kept his armor clean and spotless throughout the rebellion in spite of the high likelihood that he had been one of its instigators. Sir Tovar is shocked to hear the tale of the death of Sir Felkar and the Baron of Quste’s odd behavior in fleeing the city, and questions Bevan at length about the details of this. He pronounces the Baron a “craven bastard,” and recalls that Quste groveled in order to save his barony and his life following the failed rebellion two years ago, after he had been captured by the King at the Battle of Retu. He indicates his intention to report the event immediately to Sir Hadas, the commander of the Legion. He appears to have no explanation for the Baron’s behavior, and seems puzzled by the ritualistic murder of Felkar and the three-mascles mutilation of his body. He opines that the latter may not be a heraldic symbol, and may instead bear some religious significance. He has little opinion on the rumor that Jarop of Zarainsen, the chandler, is head of the thieves guild, although he states that a good deal of fighting took place near Jarop’s shop during the King’s storming of the city. The Aerth household was boarded up during the rebellion, but he believes Rahel remained in residence throughout due to the presence of her security forces at her compound the whole time, although the fighting never came near to her home. When Bevan asks him how the Aerth’s might have become aware of her mission in Golotha, Sir Tovar states that he would be surprised if so influential a family did not have eyes and ears at court. Bevan asks him about Sir Blors’ reference to Northhaven Wharf, and Sir Tovar states that this is almost a city unto itself, a den of scum and villainy, and that rumor has it that boats of ill repute at the wharf afford perversions of every kind to those who seek them. At the close of the interview Sir Tovar indicates his intention to send a message to the Baron of Quste inquiring about the intended disposition of Sir Felkar’s body, as a means of letting the Baron know that the castle is aware of recent events. Sir Tovar agrees to send a legionnaire once every two days to the Bridgetower Inn as a means of providing ongoing communication with the group.

Meanwhile, the harper and the elf have proceeded from Nicola’s to the apothecary establishment, where Spalir of Bendaria boasts a large and evidently well-provisioned shop. Ewen is interested in his abundant variety of pipeweed, and learns of a foul, charnel-smelling smoked weed which is popular among the “High Agrikans.” He purchases a pound of this “charnel-weed” for a half-shilling, although Spalir twice knocks off a pence from the price upon committing numerous “indiscretions” while talking with Ewen. One of these lapses involves mention of Sir Zaurial’s cousin in the Agrikan church, a man known as “the Prophet.” Ewen asks about a drug to increase stamina in the drinking of alcoholic beverages, and is educated about habsulara, a stimulant which comes closest to fitting the bill. Ewen purchases an ounce, which yields two doses which can be dissolved in the mouth or inhaled, although the latter method is evidently more hazardous. He is warned to expect a crashing headache on the morning following its use. Finally, they discuss aquavit, which Spalir describes as a Jarin concoction, very strong, although he is unfamiliar with the queasiness symptom Ewen noticed while drinking it. Ewen and Imarë take their leave of the apothecary, stop by the Noose and Jester where the harper arranges to play his new song in the early evening, and notify Nicola of the arranged performance time before returning to the Bridgetower Inn.

The party later congregates at the Bridgetower and set off for the Noose and Jester a little before the appointed hour. They take a table and eventually Boraga the embalmer comes in and goes his own accustomed table, where in due time he is served a roast capon. They notice that Nicola of Variens has arrived as promised. Ewen performs Boraga’s Song, and in spite of some uninspired lute-work the bizarre tune leaves the common room rapt and silent at its conclusion. All eyes turn to Boraga, who stares at the harper in the silence, knife suspended above his half-eaten capon. He then bursts into hearty laughter, and calls for an encore of the song. Ewen obliges, and Boraga in turn buys the harper’s table dinner and drinks all around. After a decent interval, Sir Baris assays to make conversation with the embalmer, and while he is rebuffed by the old man in his efforts to reciprocate the purchase of a drink, Boraga does recall Sir Felkar’s body when Sir Baris mentions the unusual mutilations. Unfortunately, the knight’s desire to recover the remains of his fellow knight is stymied by Boraga’s matter-of-fact explanation that the corpse was cremated a few days ago, unavoidable given the summer heat. Ewen, joining the conversation, asks about the phenomena of bodies which fail to “stay dead,” hoping to learn what the embalmer might know of the Morgathian crypts east of the city. Boraga indicates that others might intervene after his own work is done, but implies that he is uninvolved in this process. He does vouchsafe, however, that just earlier today he was brought three bodies of persons who had evidently fled the city, the unusual fact being that a young girl had been among the dead and had been run through with a sword. The other bodies, two young men, had been carved up by swords as if in combat. The embalmer’s description convinces the party that the girl was the Baron of Quste’s “niece” and the two men his guardsmen, Pix and Trelk. Boraga states the bodies had been found by soldiers on patrol from the castle garrison, and had been dead for some days. He does not think the killing was Agrikan work, as he would have expected the Agrikan warriors to have made sport with the girl prior to killing her. Based apparently upon the questions of the group, Boraga perceptively connects the Sir Felkar issue with the three new bodies. After the conclusion of pleasantries with the embalmer, the party leaves the Noose and Jester, Ewen becoming aware as they prepare to depart that Nicola of Variens has seen fit to waste no time in hawking advance copies of Ewen’s new song to interested patrons in the establishment.

Bevan and Sir Baris seek out the Nemiran Street Irregulars later that evening, Sir Baris being fully kitted out with his scale mail and bastard sword for the occasion. They neglect to assail the alleyway via the previously-employed pincer maneuver, and Sir Baris is obliged to chase a footpad down on foot. Dodging past a prone form, he lunges for the thief and briefly gets a handful of the scoundrel’s tunic, but the fabric tears away in his grasp as the man struggles free. Sir Baris lumbers after his less encumbered quarry out into Exaedas Street, where the lowborn scum has scrambled to the right and fled southward toward the city walls. Sir Baris frees his hand axe from his belt and throws it overhand toward the escaping brute, missing him entirely but causing the man to hesitate in alarm at the sight of the gleaming axe blade whistling past inches from his head. This affords Sir Baris the opportunity to lay hands upon the blackguard more securely, spinning him about by the shoulder and directing a blow toward the solar plexus, but the knight’s foe twists away from this punch, drawing a dagger in the process. In the ensuing struggle, the cutpurse slashes his blade across Sir Baris’ mail, ruining the finish on the brightly polished scale, which so infuriates the knight that he jacks the thief up and slams him back against the wall. When Sir Baris’ sword is hauled singing from its scabbard, the thief casts down his dagger and pleads abjectly for mercy. The knight pats him down roughly, confiscates another knife, recovers his axe, and frogmarches him back to the alleyway and down to where Bevan is chatting amiably with the redoubtable Merky, whom Sir Baris had stepped over when he gave chase to his prisoner.

The knight’s captive is named Karl, is unknown to Merky, and claims to have been minding his own business in the alleyway when he fled for his life at the sight of the knight’s impressive bastard sword. Sir Baris gives him a penny of the realm for his troubles, showing himself thereby to be a credit to his station, and the thief departs in haste for less hazardous quarters of the city. Meanwhile, Merky confides that she had planned to seek out Bevan at the Bridgetower tomorrow morning, having heard word on the street about a recent big heist to the tune of £200 sterling, a great lord having been knocked upon the head. She believes this was the very same robbery of Sir Felkar she witnessed, and discounts the monetary figure as ludicrous, stating that £20 pounds is more feasible and that rumors on the street typically exaggerate such things. She also states that the rumor mill has it that the heist was ordered by Jarop of Zarainsen. Merky refuses to openly indicate that Mogger was among the thieves she saw that night, stating twice that “he’ll cut my throat,” but the implication is clear enough. Merky states that she will come to Bevan next time at the courtyard of the Bridgetower.

Over at the Silk Hat east of the city proper, Imarë has returned to find Mogger at his usual post atop the bar, regaling the patrons with patter and pouring ale. A man matching the description of the fop seen by the girl with Mogger in Techen is seated at a table with Slakka and a small, slight, greasy-haired fellow. Mogger squeals at the sight of the lithesome elf, calling for a kiss from his sweetie, and gives Imarë an ale with unidentified organisms swimming in the brew. Concealing a grimace, she nurses the ale as she questions the midget about his friends. The greasy fellow is introduced as Jeremiz, the fop is called Evil Erol and evidently favors the company of little boys, and Slakka is described as disliking Imarë. Mogger opines loudly that Slakka probably dislikes Borana as well, preferring her only for the sex, and Slakka curses him and hurls his tankard at the midget. Evil Erol watches this exchange with creepy intensity, and Imarë takes in his slicked-back blond hair, well-tailored clothing, and silver medallion of a black cat in relief upon it. He is the best looking of a very bad bunch.

Imarë presses Mogger on giving her something to do, and some outrageously histrionic batting of eyelashes strikes paydirt, as the randy midget boasts that she perceives before her a hero, his having done quite well in bringing in a good amount of money for the “company,” evidently boasting of his robbery of Sir Felkar. Mogger explains that this means he gets the next plumb assignment, and that a role for someone of Imarë’s particular talents is liable to be in the offing. The elf might serve as a perfect distraction for the target of the operation, which is to take place two days hence, and that a good performance on her part might yield special recognition of the guildmaster. For the nonce, however, Mogger’s thoughts turn toward the bedchamber, and he and the elf retire from the common room.

Meanwhile, Sir Baris agrees to accompany Ewen to Sir Zaurial’s stronghold under the nom de guerre of “Karl.” They split the supply of habsulara in anticipation of an evening of grueling revelry, grab the package of charnel-weed, and collect the requested hogshead of ale at the Bridgetower. Feigning drunkenness, the two roll the barrel through the streets of Southhaven, garnering numerous odd looks from passers-by who stand prudently off as the two manhandle the fifty-gallon keg up to Sir Zaurial’s door, with Ewen leading “Karl” in a number of insalubrious ditties which they sing loudly off-key through the jaded streets of the city. Ewen hammers the pommel of his sword upon the door, calling out brazenly and generally disturbing the peace of the locale, and soon an angry Agrikan guard flings the door open, cutting short a stream of furious oaths when he catches sight of the ample booze supply. Ewen and “Karl” are ushered in, and the keg is swiftly tapped to the rowdy approbation of the dozen or more assembled warriors in the hall. Ewen commends his new friend to Sir Zaurial and his Agrikans, declaring “Karl” to have a good sword arm and a stout belly for the drink, and flings the favored pipeweed upon the common table. In short order the hall becomes a smoky, humid den of shouting, quarrelsome Agrikan soldiers, who begin punishing the ale with increasing gusto and lusty abandon. Ewen leaps upon the table, kicking aside trenchers and spouting obscene doggerel and bawdy verse while the sweating, palpitating atmosphere of the hall seems to take on a frenzied energy of its own. A cry goes up for the Midget and the Elf to be sung, and the harper un-slings his lute grandly from across his back and launches into its initial verses, stomping back and forth atop the table, gesticulating perversely and playing madly while the Agrikans pound their tankards and roar with bloodshot fury. Sir Baris hangs on the periphery of the roiling madness as the Agrikans come to a full boil, whereupon one of them slams back his chair and shouts above the din, demanding to know why they are wasting time singing when they could go and actually seize the midget himself. Pandemonium breaks out at this, and Ewen has to break off the song as the Agrikan company seize their weapons and armor and stream angrily toward the door. Catching Ewen’s eye briefly, aware of just who is ensconced at that very moment in bed with the midget at the Silk Hat, Sir Baris plunges into the riotous crowd of warriors as they storm down the stairs and out into the streets of Golotha. Ewen leaps from the table and charges down among them.

Ewen races to catch up with Sir Baris and, while continuing to shout and harangue the Agrikans as they maraud through the deserted streets, the two briefly confer, agreeing that one of them needs to somehow get ahead of the enraged Agrikans and warn Imarë of the danger. Sir Baris fights his way ahead through the tumultuous press of drunken soldiers, but realizes even as he attains their vanguard that he will never be able to get through the Gate of Arren alone, and that this makes the prospect of reaching the Silk Hat before the warriors do impossible. Ewen calls out above the din, hoping to slow them down, suggesting that they torch something, and the Agrikans roar as they pound through the gate, across the bridge over the Haikune Canal, and Ewen and Sir Baris are swept along in the murderous crowd as they storm past the arena. In desperation, as the Silk Hat comes suddenly into view further down the road, thinking of their friend the elf caught between the hammer of the Agrikan mob and the anvil of the hated Mogger, Sir Baris sucks in a huge draught of the sweltering night air and bellows, at the top of his lungs: “Mogger, we’re coming to get you!”

Within his bedroom on the ground floor of the Silk Hat, Mogger sits bolt upright in bed. “Fuck!” Imarë rolls over and murmurs drowsily, “Mmmmm, baby, somebody comin’ to get you?”

“Fuck!” the midget exclaims again, looking wildly about him as the din of the approaching warriors reaches their ears. Imarë throws aside the covers as blood-red shafts of flickering torchlight cut through the slats of the shutters and dance across the walls of the bedroom, and the sound of pounding boots, clashing armor, and hoarse, murderous voices crash upon them like a storm. Leaping from his bed, casting hopelessly about for some escape from the approaching doom, Mogger stands frozen on the floor while Imarë calmly asks him about a back way out of the inn. The midget shakes his head, stunned, and Imarë struggles with the latch on the shutters as the sound of the Agrikans pouring into the common room up front is joined by a cacophony of screaming patrons and employees, splintering furniture and shattering crockery. Hauling on the shutters, the elf finally manages to fling them open. She catches the midget up in her arms, bowls him headfirst through the window, and plunges through directly behind him, as the berserk warriors in the front of the building smash and pulverize anything and anyone within their reach. The two scamper desperately away from the inn, hoping to lose themselves in the grove of trees to the north.

Outside the Silk Hat, as the Agrikans fall upon the inn like a ravening beast upon its prey, Ewen has endeavored to divert some of their number by spuriously calling out that he has spied Mogger escaping to the east. He dashes off in this direction, drawing a handful of the warriors away from the inn in pursuit, and then doubles back around after losing them amidst the houses. The sight of the Silk Hat ablaze with flames greets his eyes, silhouetted armored figures bringing maces and swords down upon the struggling forms of hapless victims within the infernal combustion of fire and billowing smoke as, inside the doomed inn, countless bottles, casks, and barrels of spirits detonate and feed the hungry flames. Circling around the outskirts of the swelling inferno, Ewen comes upon a grim Sir Baris, who believes he caught a glimpse of the elf and the midget fleeing across the road and beyond into the woods north of the inn. The two leave the Agrikans to their insane labors and make their way back to the Bridgetower Inn, and each collapses wordlessly into his bed in utter exhaustion.

Larane 16, 730 TR

After a harrowing night huddled together in the woods north of the Silk Hat, Imarë and Mogger return to the scene of the devastation at daybreak, and Mogger picks his way through the rubble of the inn, which has been razed to the ground. Muttering, dazed and obsessive, the midget digs through the charred debris, speaking the words “Bhurt” and “Mama” under his breath as Imarë observes at a discreet distance. Eventually, having evidently convinced himself that neither his mother nor his best friend survived the blaze, Mogger catches the elf’s eye and says quietly, “I’m going to kill that fucker.” He transforms into a hound and lopes off toward the city, leaving Imarë staring agape at his retreating canine form, grateful he hadn’t transformed at a more inopportune time …

The breakfast conference at the Bridgetower is painful and brief, with Ewen and Sir Baris both eager to retreat to their respective rooms to sleep off the punishing effects of the promised habsulara headache. They manage to make it down to the common room long enough to brief Bevan about the events of last evening, and to withstand Imarë’s withering glare when she joins the party after witnessing Mogger’s bizarre departure. Bevan states that she once knew a shape-shifter in Tashal, a cleric of sorts named Ilken Zuvonx, who could assume the form of a crow or a hawk. Beyond this, however, nobody wishes to talk much.

Imarë decides to visit Maraena at the Smoking Mekan while Sir Baris and Ewen nurse their headaches. The innkeeper’s scholarly daughter is aware of the burning of the Silk Hat the night before, and her Peleahn propinquities appear to engender a barely suppressed thrill to her voice as she acknowledges it, an electric kinky frisson of excitation at the very thought of a raging conflagration. Flushed and exalted, fanning herself vigorously with one hand, Maraena confirms that Sir Klyrdes Bisidril, Sir Zaurial’s uncle, is the Agrikan high priest, and opines that the Silk Hat will inevitably reopen in short order, given its importance as a haven for underworld activity.

Bevan speaks with Orsa, who notes archly that her compatriots appear to be in scant evidence today. He acknowledges that he has lived his entire life in Golotha, and surprises Bevan in asserting that he has hosted her father many a time in days past during his infrequent visits to the city. Theron Palliser has apparently been in the habit of entertaining the common room of the inn with card tricks during his stays, the last of which was about a year and a half ago. Orsa, perhaps finally getting to his point, states that the great man has always paid his fees in advance when staying at the Bridgetower. Bevan and Orsa discuss financial arrangements and the topic switches to the bottle of aquavit. The innkeeper, in a tone of muted remonstration, observes that Bevan pays a lot of Ewen’s bills, implying that the harper is sponging liberally off the lady’s purse. Bevan suggests that she might have interest in purchasing the flask of aquavit for her father, and negotiates Orsa down to eight and one-half shillings.

Sir Baris, meanwhile, spends the latter part of the day in private prayer, his conscience being sore troubled at his participation in the Agrikan marauding the evening previous.

Larane 17, 730 TR

The ostler of the Bridgetower Inn alerts Bevan that a slattern has called upon her in the courtyard. Completing her breakfast at a dignified pace, she heads out back to find Merky awaiting her with news that a wolf had been spotted within the city. It evidently managed to get within an Agrikan stronghold where it was killed by Sir Zaurial Bisidril, whereupon the wolf transformed into the midget Mogger. Bevan hears the bizarre tale with equanimity, and sees Merky amply compensated for her report.

The promised messenger from Sir Tovar arrives, and Bevan and Sir Baris decide that their business necessitates a second visit to the castle, and the legionnaire escorts them through the city to Caer Chaftar. The urbane knight receives them in short order, acknowledging that he would have been surprised if they hadn’t paid him a visit today. He explains that, following their interview on the 15th in which he learned of the Baron of Quste’s flight from the city, he sent out a troop of men to deliver a message to the Baron at Quste. They were instructed to keep their eyes open for anything unusual. They found a wagon pulled off the road about thirty minutes from town along the road to Quste, with three shallow graves nearby. The soldiers reported back, and while Sir Tovar expects to hear back from Quste today, he owns that he would be quite surprised to learn of the Baron abiding safe and well within his stronghold. Sir Tovar wants to know who was responsible for the crime and whether the Baron has been, as it appears, abducted. Bevan shares with Sir Tovar the rumor of an enormous sum of silver having been heisted in the city and its connection to the Baron’s retinue, but Sir Tovar scoffs at the £200 figure, discounting it as absurd and almost double the annual income of the entire barony of Quste. Bevan and Sir Baris take their leave of the castle after Sir Tovar provides detailed information regarding the location of the attack on the Baron’s party, and it is decided that Bevan and Imarë will search for tracks in the vicinity of the ambush, given that the weather has been generally dry save for some light showers on the morning of the 13th which are unlikely to have fully obscured whatever evidence which might remain.

The two huntresses leave the city via Arren Gate, pause to cast an eye upon the remains of the Silk Hat and the small wood where Imarë and Mogger sheltered after the fire, and trek north through Trevorman toward the ferry which leads to the mainland. Not very far beyond the city, as the road climbs toward a distant tree-line, they find the ruts of wagon-wheels leading off the road, and the three shallow graves reported by Sir Tovar and exhumed by his men. Imarë’s keen eye finds evidence of a desperate swordfight just off the road, presumably where Pix and Trelk took their stand in defense of their great lord. The markings of shod hooves from horses, distinct from the beasts pulling the wagon, suggest that the ambush had been mounted, with the attackers dismounting to melee with the doomed retainers of the Baron. Bevan estimates that Pix and Trelk had been outnumbered three-to-one, and the two trackers attempt to piece together the denouement of the battle from the trampled and confused markings. They find a dagger cast to one side, and a trail of evidence suggesting that someone was dragged away from the site of the melee. Exhausting their ability to descry the evidence before them, Bevan and Imarë tentatively conclude that the Baron was taken alive, and that the ambushers headed back in the direction of Golotha after digging the graves for the three casualties.

Back in Golotha, Ewen has visited Nicola of Variens today. She apologies for the presumption of selling copies already of Boraga’s Song, but reports that she has thus far netted Ewen half a shilling in royalties for his two tunes. She laments the destruction of the Silk Hat, observing that a perfectly useful venue has been lost to the ravages of mayhem. Later in the day, Ewen and Sir Baris attend the Shesneal ceremony at the Temple of Halea. Ewen at one point mentions the name of his patron at the Coranan temple, Xandia, but learns little save that some of the Halean pious manage to get to the Temple by rowing over from Northhaven Wharf, thus bypassing the Agrikans at the island gate. They make a three-shilling donation to the temple, are treated to the spectacle of the two virgins, male and female, sacrificing their virginity with each other, and indulge complacently in the licentious debauchery of the Halean ceremony.
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Matt
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