Session Twenty-Two - March 13, 2005

[Matt]

Larane 18, 730 TR

The group congregates in Bevan Palliser’s private room at the Bridgetower Inn in Golotha to discuss the career of Sir Blors Manfrungtane, Sheriff of Zabinshire. The plan, for Sir Baris Tyrestal to approach the sheriff today on the strength of their previous acquaintance, is reviewed in detail before the conversation shifts to a more far-flung discussion of the political hierarchy of the Kingdom of Tharda. The group has begun to wonder whether Bevan’s mission in Golotha, initiated following the King’s departure on campaign, might spring from an ongoing clash of competing motives and methods taking place at the very highest levels of power in the kingdom.

This is interrupted by a discreet knock upon the door by the innkeeper Orsa, who relays an urgent summons from Boraga the embalmer for Ewen. Imarë agrees to accompany the harper, and the two obtain directions from Orsa and make their way across the city to Northhaven Wharf, and then down an alleyway to the nondescript entrance to Boraga’s shop. Ewen raps repeatedly upon the door, which is eventually opened by a foul-smelling little man who leads the harper and the elf into the unwholesome, murky interior of the city’s embalming establishment. At the end of a dim corridor they emerge into a large workshop where a half-dozen apprentices labor amidst many shrouded, reeking corpses. The cloying stench of decay and waste is stronger here, and two large doors, through which freshly harvested bodies are presumably brought in via the barge, evidently open upon the canal. Boraga, bent over a shrouded figure, is intent upon his work until the apprentice speaks a word in his ear, at which the embalmer smugly greets Imarë and Ewen and leads them over to a sheeted, largish figure recumbent upon its slab. Eying his audience significantly in a dramatic pause, Boraga whips back the sheet, revealing the naked body of Subla Uldseth, Baron of Quste, with his throat slit and three mascles carved upon his chest.

Ewen and Imarë stare at the body for a moment while Boraga relishes his revelation. He then produces an old silver penny, bearing the likeness of King Chafin III, and explains that he found the coin lodged within the Baron’s gullet. He goes on to explain that his physician friend, Tarlis of Otta, discovered the body of the Baron while doing his rounds at the pillory in Arren Square near the Golotha Pool. The nobleman had been placed naked in the stocks at some point the night before last, and his corpse remained slumped forward, his wound and disfigurement concealed from the casual viewer, throughout the entire day yesterday. Tarlis of Otta had tipped Boraga off regarding the body last night while bringing news of another impending customer for the embalmer, a man who had been stabbed near unto death in the home of Borana the perfumer.

With Boraga’s leave, Imarë and Ewen inspect Uldseth’s body, but find no other indication of injury or rough binding. The mascles had been carved in roughly the same location as those on the body of Sir Felkar, and they show some sign of blood suggesting that they were carved at or around the time the Baron had been killed. The two adventurers thank Boraga for the notification, and pay him two shillings to remain quiet about the Baron and keep the corpse on ice for two days, which is the maximum amount of time the embalmer thinks he can reasonably refrain from proceeding with his professional ministrations in the summer heat. Ewen and Imarë confer and decide to head straight on to Borana’s, presuming Slakka to be the injured party referred to by the physician.

In the meantime, Sir Baris had ridden out to Caer Chakta, where he is greeted politely by the under-sheriff, Piers Gavella, a young, slender, bookish-looking fellow who clearly handles the administrative duties for Sir Blors. Sir Baris is told that the sheriff is out hunting, as is his wont on most mornings, in the royal forests of Zabinshire, and is to return at some indeterminate time later in the day. Piers offers refreshment in the form of a haunch of meat, bread, and some small beer, and then leaves Sir Baris to his own devices while he returns to his undoubtedly numerous duties. Upon having dined, Sir Baris avails himself of the opportunity to take a turn about the keep, inspecting its defenses and offering a few sober words of approval to the senior man-at-arms, Hirk of Besagerin, ably drilling his men in the courtyard. The knight finds Caer Chakta to be a large, well-maintained keep of three stories, boasting two smaller towers of four stories and one larger of five. The gate is defended by two portcullises, three silos presumably filled with grain stand ready for time of need, and the weaponsmith labors industriously at fletching within an amply-supplied shop. Wandering back inside the keep, gauging the various foot soldiers bustling about with a practiced eye, Sir Baris notes sufficient barracks in the towers to accommodate a full three companies of men, although he doubts that this many make up the present garrison. Walking about the gallery above the main hall, surveying some fine tapestries depicting various hunting scenes, Sir Baris again encounters Piers Gavella, who admits that Sir Blors might be quite late in returning depending upon his fortunes at the hunt. The knight notifies the under-sheriff that he will return later in the day at supper-time, and takes his leave of Caer Chakta.

Back in the city proper, Bevan has composed and sent a message to Rahel of Aerth, indicating that she would be grateful of the opportunity to call upon her at her convenience.

Imarë and Ewen, thankful for once of the more tolerably malodorous streets of Golotha after the sickening stench of the embalmer’s workshop, wend their way carefully through Northaven and down Arren Street to the perfumer’s establishment. The three-story edifice is closed and locked, but repeated hammering at the door conjures a female voice notifying them that the shop is closed, and that they are to return tomorrow. Ewen confidently announces himself by name, and when a stretch of silence conveys frank incomprehension on the part of his unseen interlocutor, adds that he has heard notice of some trouble having visited the household, and that he wishes “to be of service to your mother.” This yields the surprised response, “You must think I’m Jelesa,” and after a period of further silence the perfumer’s apprentice unbars the door and lets them in. The young, would-be perfumer introduces herself as Farla of Merros, and Ewen inquires with interest if she is related to one Parmen of Merros, most lately of the city of Coranan. When the girl acknowledges that Parmen is her cousin, Ewen adds that he and Imarë had assisted Parmen with some trouble not long ago. This immediately improves the prospect of the two receiving refreshment, and Farla scurries off to the kitchen to rustle up some provender while Ewen and Imarë wait upon Borana.

When the lady in question descends to greet the visitors, she appears worn and haggard, and is clearly reluctant to suffer guests in her home at this time. She states that she is not in need of assistance, and does not believe that trouble is likely to return to the house. She reluctantly admits that Slakka was stabbed the night before last night by someone quite skilled with the dagger, and that the wound, though un-poisoned, festers and that the victim is not himself. She agrees, however, to consult with the patient when she recognizes the elf as a particular companion of the late Mogger. She disappears for a time, but soon returns and leads them up the stairs, which divide the building down the middle, past the second floor solar and up to the third floor where the bedchambers are located. A corridor opens on four doors, of which, only the further door on the right could conceivably have a windowed chamber, and she ushers Imarë and Ewen through the first door on the left into the master bedroom. Propped up in the large, fine bed, partially covered, Slakka lies gray and sweating in the throes of a dire fever.

Borana waits discreetly outside the door while Ewen and Imarë interview the stricken man. He is bitterly ironic at Imarë’s claim that Mogger escaped the blaze at the Silk Hat, calling the elf a “slimy little bitch,” but proceeds with answering the questions put to him in apparent resignation that his last moments upon Kethira are drawing nigh. He scorns the optimistic assessment of the physician Tarlis of Otta, who examined him earlier, crediting his promise of returning with a medicinal poultice with little chance of saving him. Imarë’s private assessment of the injury, a deep stab wound to the lower abdomen, confirms Slakka’s own diagnosis: the patient is certain to die in the very near future. Imarë divulges the rumor that Mogger met his end seeking revenge in the form of a hound, and Slakka relates a story of how the midget’s mother, a prostitute, was once beaten by a man whom Mogger subsequently pursued in a similar manner, using his hound form to get close enough to his mother’s assailant to allow him to cut out the eyes of his victim.

Imarë asks Slakka who stabbed him. He states that he does not know, but that he has never seen anyone as fast as his opponent. He relates how he heard a noise in the night and arose to investigate, coming upon a tall, cloaked and hooded figure emerging from Jelesa’s room, directly across the hall from the master bedroom. He also noted that the stranger was heading for the stairs. The intruder had a sword, but wheeled and produced a dagger when Slakka missed with his own blade, stabbing Slakka with a lightning-fast, powerful blow, burying the blade deep into Slakka’s gut, right up to the hilt, and then withdrawn with bloody rapidity. As most daggers are at least 12” in length, given Slakka’s build, the blade went right through him. He explains that he never saw the interloper’s face as he dropped his own sword and fell to the floor. His assailant sheathed his dagger and pronounced the word “Worm!” in his ear, as if uttering a fearful curse, before departing the house. Slakka states his belief that he was not the target of the man’s visit to the house, and that the daughter Jelesa was apparently unaware of the intruder in her room. He also states that he would have expected to have recognized the man, in spite of the cloak and hood, if he had been an associate of Slakka’s. [GM: See Addendum.]

Ewen asks Slakka who the father of Borana’s child was, and Slakka seems surprised by the question, answering that he believes the father had been a local boy, a young fellow guildsman, who courted Borana and was killed by her father, who had been known for his temper. When Imarë asks about the robbery of Sir Felkar, Slakka states his suspicion that they were “set up on that one,” that the heist was too good to be true and that the Guildmaster had set them up to get caught. The thieves had been instructed to watch the Bridgetower, and that sooner or later “some guy would come out carrying the loot.” Slakka was surprised in the wake of the robbery when nobody came searching for the thieves, and that “nobody said nothing” about it. The £22 in silver was divided per normal Lia-Kavair fashion, with the Guildmaster taking a full 50% cut. When Ewen asks whether “Lenesque” was involved in the robbery, Slakka confirms his suspicion that “Evil Erol” and Lenesque are one and the same by acknowledging that Lenesque had served as the lookout during the operation and received his cut, but cautions Ewen that “that striding popinjay will kill you” if he hears the name Lenesque invoked. Slakka states his belief that Lenesque was not the man who stabbed him. He also does not know what location his compatriots might be frequenting now that the Silk Hat is no more. The “big job” Mogger had been looking forward to was to have been last night, a sting on a local burgher, but Slakka makes little of the midget’s enthusiasm for the mission. When asked about Rahel of Aerth, Slakka calls her a “scary bitch” and explains that even the Guildmaster fears her. He admits to not knowing whether the Guildmaster will care about his having been stabbed, hopes that he does, but warns against their approaching him unless Imarë and Ewen want to share a grisly fate themselves.

They excuse themselves from the room of the dying man, and ask Borana about what she knows of the intruder in her home. She only was aware of a tall man in a dark cloak, is unaware of how he entered given that all of the doors had been barred and locked, but indicates that the man exited via the door to the street, which was unbarred and unlocked after his departure. The daughter’s room had no window as well, making the point of entry even more puzzling. Borana refuses to let the two speak to Jelesa, insisting that she has no intention of traumatizing the girl further by allowing her to be interrogated, but does allow the party to look in on her for a moment down in the kitchen. The daughter, who is about fifteen, could be Ewen’s twin sister based upon her appearance, while a strong enough resemblance to Borana seems to confirm her maternity. Ewen cocks a significant eyebrow at Borana, who meets his gaze wordlessly, and they take their leave, with Ewen telling the mother that her daughter is a lovely child, and that Borana knows where to reach the harper if he can be of any assistance.

Later in the day, Sir Baris returns to Caer Chakta to find the Sheriff of Zabinshire regaling his men in the great hall regarding his day’s hunting, proudly displaying the impressive carcass of a large wild boar. The knight briefly introduces himself to Sir Blors, reminding him of their service together in the retaking of Golotha two years ago, and the sheriff agreeably states that of course Sir Baris has himself taken down a boar or two in his time, to which the young knight complacently agrees. Sir Blors invites Sir Baris to stay for dinner, and remains bluff and pragmatical throughout the ensuing evening.

During the meal, Sir Baris has an opportunity to refine his estimate of the manpower inhabiting Caer Chakta, deciding that a company and a half, or thirty men, appears to be in residence. He also noted many more horses in the courtyard upon his arrival, presumably returned from the day’s hunt. At table, Sir Baris is introduced to Sir Mestil of Savurdy, a man slightly older than Sir Blors, who is at Caer Chaftar rendering his feudal service and who accompanied the sheriff on the boar hunt. He and Sir Baris sit with Sir Blors at the head table, with Hirk of Besagerin present in the great hall as well, dressed better than his men and clearly ranking as senior man beneath the knights present.

After the table is drawn and Sir Blors is well into his cups, Sir Baris gets into the convivial spirit of the evening and boldly sings a horridly off-key rendition of “The Midget and the Elf” for the assembled company, remembering the verses quite well but otherwise mangling the tune. His effort is tolerated well by the inebriated audience, however, although Sir Blors brings him down to business by inquiring as to whether Sir Baris intends to offer his sword to the shire. The knight indicates that he is presently “slightly employed” but may be open to such an opportunity in the future, and allows that his present circle of associates are “slightly crazy.” He asks Sir Blors about Sir Tovar, and Sir Blors allows that he is good in a fight and handles his cohort in the Legion well, but that he styles himself a bit of a lady’s man. When Sir Baris asks about Sir Felkar, the sheriff’s face immediately loses its bonhomie and he intones that the man’s death was apparently a “black and bloody business.” He calls Sir Felkar a friend, but places the responsibility for doing something about the murder firmly in the Baron’s quarter, noting disparagingly that Sir Felkar had been murdered like a dog and the Baron had ignominiously fled. When questioned about the Agrikans, Sir Blors states that the Warriors of Mameka police the city after their own fashion, the head of their order having made his peace with the King after the rebellion, and Sir Blors states darkly that the King’s father knew how to deal properly with the Agrikans. Sir Baris nods reverently to this, noting modestly that he had once, when a young page, actually delivered a message to the late King. Sir Blors indicates that he had known Sir Felkar for more than five years, and that the man had never raised a sword against the crown and had kept Caer Quste safe as per his duty. Sir Blors remarks with disgust that the “idiot embalmer” had cremated the knight, and from his conversation appears to believe that the Baron successfully fled to Caer Quste following the knight’s murder. The evening ends with Sir Baris sleeping in the great hall after the sheriff himself stumbles off in the direction of the keep’s larger tower.

Ewen, meanwhile, purchases two bottles of brandy at the Bridgetower Inn and makes his way to Sir Zaurial’s stronghold. Grisly new adornments upon the ironmongery outside the building display Mogger’s head upon a spike, and his two hands on rings to either side. (Later, Ewen would see Mogger’s two feet dangling from the inner door.) Ewen hammers upon the door and is greeted with some enthusiasm, and he goes among the Agrikans announcing lavish praise for the renowned slayer of hounds. Sir Zaurial requires little cajoling to recount the tale of Mogger’s demise, embellishing the size of his opponent to wolf-like proportions. The beast apparently waited until the gates were opened and charged into the knight’s bedchamber, assailing him with ferocious claws and teeth about the head, but Sir Zaurial managed to slay the creature with his sword, upon which the wolf transformed back into the hated midget.

Ewen shares in their meal of boar poached from the King’s forest, and attempts to elicit from Sir Zaurial the degree to which the Agrikans might be aware of recent developments in the city. Sir Zaurial appears to be unaware of the flight of a “great lord” from Golotha, asking Ewen to whom he refers. The knight knows the Baron of Quste as a favorite customer of Eilyth’s boat at the Northhaven Wharf. Ewen observes that the Baron’s heirs are generally all dead at this point, but Sir Zaurial seems indifferent to this intelligence. When the conversation takes a turn, with Sir Zaurial claiming that his uncle Klyrdes runs the city, Ewen adopts a provocative stance, declaiming to the assembly that he has met two types of people since arriving in Golotha: one type who claim the Agrikans to be supreme, and another group that claim the Morgathians are running the city while the Agrikans only have the place as a playground. The Agrikan table descends into a deathly pall of silence at this faux pas, and Sir Zaurial intones darkly that one day the Agrikans are going to settle the hash of the Morgathians once and for all. He scornfully derides Morgathian plans for a “crusade” with their “moldering piles of flesh,” evidently referring to the corpses on Temple Hill. When Ewen asks about Sir Zaurial’s cousin, “the Prophet,” he is told menacingly that he does not wish to meet the Prophet, who is “either touched by Agrik himself, or mad as a hatter.” Then Sir Zaurial forecloses the conversation abruptly, suggesting that as Ewen spoiled the tone of the evening with his questions, he can make amends by reviving the revelry. The harper complies, and later leaves the Agrikans to their accustomed simmering riot and returns to the Bridgetower Inn.

Larane 19, 730 TR

Sir Baris awakens in the great hall of Caer Chakta and wanders into the kitchen to find breakfast. He runs into Piers, who offers him the hospitality of remaining longer at the keep, but Sir Baris indicates his intention of returning to the city forthwith. He rejoins the party in the common room of the Bridgetower Inn, where the group is in the midst of speculation as to whether Rahel of Aerth might be a daughter of Arren I. Rahel is about twenty-five, give or take a year or two, and Bevan decides to query Parqu of Aerth regarding the possibility of Arren I having visited Golotha sometime around the year 705 TR.

Sir Baris, reminiscing about Arren I, shares with the group that he was born in Melderyn, near Ontur, and in 719 was taken by his uncle to the island of Anfla, off southwestern Hârn, where Prince Arren was assembling and training a great army intended for the overthrow of Rethem. Sir Baris’ uncle was serving with Sir Osric Jothysan, son of the Melderyni Baron of Ontur, who later attacked and seized Techen while Prince Arren attacked Golotha.

Imarë goes to the chandler and purchases 25 feet of rope at the exorbitant rate of 3d per foot. Hoping to catch a glimpse of Jarop of Zarainsen, she is disappointed to learn that he is not present at the shop. She returns to the Bridgetower, having chosen at this point not to renew her room at the Smoking Meken Inn.

Bevan calls upon Parqu of Aerth and, after a period of waiting, she and the merchant converse. She inquires after the state of affairs on the Heptarchial Council, but Parqu states that not much has changed and that the council meets perhaps twice a month, the last occasion having been four days ago. Bevan, claiming to Parqu’s suspicious perplexity to be a “history buff,” queries him about any visit by Arren of Melderyn to Golotha in the time prior to the overthrow of King Chafin III. Bevan and Parqu spar back and forth a bit, the savvy merchant clearly dubious of Bevan’s line of questioning, but he ultimately acknowledges that Prince Arren actually dined at Arvind of Aerth’s house twenty-six years ago, on which occasion the family put on a feast from which it took them almost a year to recover. Parqu admits that the effort to put on the feast ultimately served the family well when Arren became king, but questions Bevan as to what she might be suggesting by this line of inquiry. Bevan does not get the impression from Parqu that he has considered the possibility that his sister might have borne a child of Arren of Melderyn, but he does peremptorily dismiss her when she makes her blithe excuses for the questioning, informing her that he fully expects her to endeavor to waste a good deal less of his time upon her next visit.

Addendum

What follows is the GM version of Slakka’s stabbing:

Slakka lay awake, Borana sleeping comfortably in the crook of his arm. Her light breathing disturbed him not, and he thought of the how she had been but moments before at the height of her climax - her beautiful face aglow in almost feline pleasure as he had thrust into her harder with his own. He reached down to grip his still stiff member, and smiled. One of the most desirable women in this city and she was his – not that he let her know the true pleasure he took in his position for he had his reputation to think of. He had not become the most feared assassin in Golotha by a loose tongue and letting others know his business. Still, he had much money lingering in his purse from the fool they had robbed and perhaps a trip to a jeweler would not let his mask slip too much. He started for a moment – had he heard something in the hallway?

He quietly slipped out from around Borana and the bed and drew his shortsword slowly from its sheath. He listened at the door but heard no more. Slakka was an imaginative killer – it was one of the things that had made him so good at his craft – but he was not otherwise given to intellectual feats. A bump in the night needed to be investigated, and if it did prove a thief so foolish as to cross him, he would never do so again. Borana was under his protection and that of the Lia-Kavair – only an outsider would be here. He cracked the door and peered into the darkened hallway. The door across the hallway was just closing. Had Borana’s daughter Jelesa come out of her room for some reason? He didn’t think so – the noise had been too heavy and she was not in the habit of wandering about in the night. Could this be not a thief but someone intent on other mischief? Jelesa was fourteen, as beautiful as her mother and ripening quickly. Slakka’s own member had twitched at the thought of her more than once. It did so now, though he hardly noticed. He was alert, all senses bent towards the potential danger across the hall. He slipped across and waited beside the door, listening. Instinctively, his free hand went to the silver skull medallion of Naveh hanging from his neck.

No sound came from within – no cries, no rustling, not muffled movements. Slakka thought he might have just heard a few whispered words, but couldn’t quite make them out. Seconds ticked by.

The door opened slowly, and he tensed, sword at the ready to strike. A tall figure cloaked in black came out of the room, and after a second, turned as if sensing his presence. Slakka stabbed out with the shortsword, and thought he might have laid a glancing blow through the cloak. He could not see the man’s face, but he saw the pommel of a very fine sword on his belt as he drew back his cloak and grasped the hilt of a blade. He made to strike again when the figure – impossibly fast it seemed to Slakka – thrust out with a dagger. All at once, Slakka felt like he’d been punched in the gut, and looked down to see a black-gloved hand in contact with his naked belly. (26 IPs, K5 - survive, E6 - fail, bleeding wound) Then that hand was pulling back quickly, and Slakka watched with detached professional interest as the long, gleaming blade now coated in red drew back with it. More blood followed, and he heard a clanging sound as his shortsword fell to the floorboards, followed very shortly by himself. He clutched at the wound as if to stanch the flow, but blood poured out from between his fingers.

The figure loomed over him, and for a moment, Slakka thought he was preparing the coup de grace, but the dagger flashed only as the man returned it to its sheath. “Worm,” he said quietly, and then Slakka heard Borana scream. All went black.