Orster Trading

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The road out of Krencham after the storm; and revelation of what it may have left behind afterwards, was calm. Branches and leaves lay strewn about the road which was lined with trees that separated the raised surface from the fields of overgrown and long forgotten crops.

Up ahead a pair of humans rode towards them on horses that pulled carts behind them. Waving and signalling the party they, a man and woman, stopped alongside the party. “We didn’t think many people would be braving these roads after that storm last night. But here we are and well met.” the man said with a smile, his hand holding the handle of a rather ornate looking longsword, his other hand by the side of his horse and hidden from view. “I am Harry and this is my wife, Jane. Any news of the road up ahead that we should be aware of? The horses can cross over fallen trees, however the carts are not so lucky.”

After the party explained what happened the night before both of them exchanged a glance. “Well we haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary except a pack of dire wolves hunting up ahead. Luckily I was able to persuade them to hunt easier prey” Jane replied with a knowing smile.

After a few more pleasantries Harry and Jane excused themselves, Harry storing a hand-crossbow that he had concealed at first meeting once he had determined the party meant no harm. As they rode off towards Krencham and beyond the party couldn’t help but worry for them but they seemed formidable enough that they should be able to take care of themselves. As the party continued up the road the silence was oppressive. The birds seemed to be hiding away from the world and there wasn’t any game to be found.

Half a mile later a flock of crows broke the silence as they burst forth from the tall crops. A waft of wind brought forth the sticky-sweet smell of blood from the site where the crows had gathered. Approaching the site the party bore witness to a massacre. Seven dire wolves lay dead, well what appeared to be seven dire wolves at least. The bodies were ripped apart, severed and torn apart and the pieces strewn about. All the body cavities had been ripped open and the innards removed, or devoured.

As they considered what could have done this the crack of thunder could be heard from the direction of Krencham. From this distance they could see flashes of magic, an explosion signalling a fireball, a blast of lightning and even booms of thunder as a fierce battle raged on. But within a few heart wrenching moments the magic stopped and silence swept across the plains again.

The party had no doubt that Orster Trading had met something hostile on the road through Krencham. Victorious or defeated they knew not but whatever the case they had better put some distance between them and the site of the battle in case they are next on the menu.

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The Blackwater Crew

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As the party waited for the township of Swans Reprieve to settle down after the discovery of the wagon suspended in the tree the town looked to them to assist. “Please, you are all we have. We are no warriors and the guards we have are busy defending against goblins, orcs and gnolls that hunt the forests.” The mayor asked as he waited for the total sum of the job offer to be collected.

The inn was the current staging ground for the mission and it was nearly empty this time of day – except for the party, the mayor and a drunk at the table. The door opened causing a bell to chime to announce the new visitors. “I will ensure that you are paid. We don’t have another choice…” he began once more.

“Well lad, that isn’t quite the case.” a gruff and strong voice said from the door as a rough, burly dwarf walked towards them. “We heard about the little problem you have at the moment and myself and my partner, Jayke, are here wanting to help you.” The dwarf said thumbing towards the tall human.

“Daruden is right. We are willing to look into it for you with or without these adventurers.” Jayke said, flashing a smile. “We are merchants and adventurers and it’s in our best interest if we are able to do business with Swans Reprieve. So if there is trouble here then we want to ensure that we can remove the problem then it solves our problem too.” Jayke ordered two ales at the bar and leant against the table near the party.

“Tell you what, we can even do it without these adventurers so they can continue onwards their way.” Jayke said, looking into the tankard as he swirled it around. “If they aren’t willing to help out the town unless it fills their pockets then we can take care of it for you.”

Daruden grunted and practically inhaled his tankard of ale. “Aye, there is none better than the Blackwater crew. We are the best hunters, trackers and problem solvers in the land.” he clapped the human on the shoulder “Just make sure your guards protect the town and we can handle what lies in the woods, our way,” he paused for a moment as he looked at the party members, “the right way.”

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Samaeth of Verone

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“Heroes come in all shapes and sizes” Samaeth said as she polished her sword, the blue light within the blade making the sword look like it vibrated in the air. “That’s what my mother used to say after dad left on his last quest. I think she was trying to reassure me that even though I was the first daughter to be born into the line of the Heroes of Verone it wouldn’t matter.”

As she stared deeper into the blade, the blood from the creatures earlier that day having been wiped clean the a log rolled from the fire and spread burning embers around her. The dry tinder caught not even after a moment’s thought and a foul wind caught the fire and threw it up around her. But Samaeth’s eyes flashed blue, matching the same internal light as her sword and the fire began to bend and twist away from the trees and fuel that they had prepared for the fire. The flames licked at her clothes trying to catch her alight but the malicious blaze was bending to her will.

The fire danced upon itself again, travelling from burning logs and scorched ground across to the campfire. The sound of crackling wood and burning leaves retreated until it was contained within the burning pile. She looked up at the party and smiled. “I feel a runaway fire and some beasts attacking during the day are child play to you also, I don’t consider myself any different from you adventurers who have stories and mighty deeds already etched into your name. After I complete this test that the Order of Heroes has given me and I purge the black tower again I hope to start earning my title, like you have.”

After the fire had died down and the party fell into silence animals would be seen coming to the edge of the fire light and staring at Samaeth, inclining their heads and necks towards her as if bowing to the queen of the forest.

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Seb Bastenwort

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Heading through the tunnels beneath the arena Seb, as he was now known as, walked at a fast pace compared to the humans. “This whole place, the mechanisms, the cells, the arena itself is all designed to hold creatures and the heroes for the show. It’s a marvel, an absolute marvel.” Seb rattled on as he pointed at different mechanisms, cages and chains.

“Todays show was something that I didn’t even want to know about. So I had my chief handler organise a surprise asset for the main event.” He scratched his well maintained beard. “But that’s where it went wrong. I can find my handler and we’ve lost the creature. I wish I could tell you what it was but I wanted it to be a surprise for me as well.”

He stopped moving at one of the cages and stood there expectantly. “Well this is it. The cage where it’s meant to be but isn’t.” He pointed at the broken chain, the ajar door and the various bits of scrap, food and mess that lay around the cage.

One thing was clear. Something large was once in here and it was loose. The party would have their work cut out for them in tracking down this creature but also, finding out how it escaped.

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Rudy Tasslewor

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Gathering around the bar the owners of the Tavern and Rudy, the barman who was unluckily the person who Ikob took drinks from all waited as the guards and the city’s watchers looked around the room. Questioning the party, several of the watchers; elite guards and spies, tried to find out what happened leading up to the death of the noble.

“So you say that you ordered the drinks and Lord Ikob Thunderdash received them instead of you. It could be something else as we have, so far, no motivation for anyone wanting to kill adventurers of little fame such as yourselves. But we will investigate the body and see if there was another source.” The Watchers were all masked and showed nearly nothing that could be tied back to who they were. However the watcher that was asking the questions was a female and sounded middle aged and local.

“Anything over there, watcher?” one of the guards called from across the room – the reply was a shake of the head. Rudy, the barman smiled weakly at the party as he walked over.

“I am sorry you got caught up in all of this. The only time I didn’t have eyes on the drink was when the old blind man needed help getting back to his table. But it wasn’t for that long and I had no idea.” He stopped and paused as he saw the look on the party’s face.

The guard approached and shook their heads as they stopped next to the party. “Well we can’t rule out it was an inside job. Ikob was a well known noble for the wrong reasons but he was nobility, after all. Even if the drinks weren’t meant for him there is no way to prove otherwise. But I would recommend that you stay safe and keep a low profile over the next few days until you leave town. Don’t go anywhere at night as the city streets aren’t patrolled as much.” the older guardsman said as he scratched his neck.

“You may also have a watcher or two posted to follow you to see if they can catch the assassin. But don’t bring attention to them. The quicker they can do their work the quicker you will be safe.”

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The Caravaner

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Gathering around one of the many campfires Sal laughed and drank deeply from the Tankard she had poured herself. The Princess had brought with her several vast kegs of ale and had opened them when they stopped. The guards who were not on duty were guarding the princesses wagon, which no one had seen her yet as she remained inside her wagon.

As Sal laughed and joked with the guards several of them attempted and failed to flirt with her as she gently, generally with humour, declined their advances. A few stern looks from the caravan captains made the men move on quickly enough if they didn’t get the message. As the night went on and the feasting died down the party returned to their tents and bedrolls and soon only the occasional noise from the guards could be heard.

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Sometime in the early morning the party woke to complete silence. Positioned not far from the princesses wagon – and thus the guards this was an abnormality from the previous few nights. But there was a feeling of wrongness that crept through the camp and across the tent as if the air itself was trying to retreat further away from some unseen miasma.

Leaving their tent and bedrolls the party looked around the camp to find that not only the camp fires had been extinguished – many with guards passed out where they sat the night before but the torches and braziers had been too. Moving swiftly through the camp after drawing and donning their arms and armour they discovered on the other side of the wagon a bloody battlefield. Bodies lay strewn about the grass and chopped up soil. Humanoids in dark leathers and clothes littered the dead guardsmen who had died in a circle in front of the princesses wagon – which stood there with its heavy set doors ripped open.

Soon people who woke in the wake of the party moving through the camp joined them and the cries of alarm drifted through the camp. Guards raced from tents, wagons and where they fell the night before to begin lighting torches and forming a perimeter as they investigated the invaded wagon. Clothing lay strewn about the floor of the wagon where cupboards had been ripped open. A small secret compartment lay chopped into and a chest lay half full of gold and jewels lay cascading down from a padded seat. 

The princess was nowhere to be found.

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The Clawed Captain

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Garius stormed through the hallway with the witnesses in tow, smoke rising from his helmeted brow. It wasn’t a rare occurrence the guardsmen of Yole saw their captain mad but to see him literally fuming had many of them scarring out of the way. A woman in light armour appeared at his side, “the council have asked for a statement captain, they want to make sure that the streets are safe.” she began.

“Not now Duplicity, I am working on it. First we have to ensure that our one prisoner is safe and that we can collect statements from these bystanders.” Garius growled through his helmet. “I will deal with the council when I know where we stand. If you can show these adventurers to your office lieutenant I will be there shortly. I have a prisoner to have words with.” Garius showed the adventurers down a hallway while he descended the stairs to where the secure cell would be.

Sighing Duplicity tried to smile towards the party as she led them down the hall. Her brighter purple armour brings out the undertones of her skin. “We are a bit busy at the moment with Boraleius not being at the parade and the attack – it’s kind of rattled a few feathers so I hope you can bear with me as I ask you some questions. The Captain isn’t a bad man, there is just a lot of pressure on him to have the answers for something that should never have happened.” she continued, looking back towards the stairs he descended.

As they were shown to an office, a small one at that, Duplicity opened the door and showed them in. “Now I need you to start at the start. What did you see, when did you see it and what happened from your point of view. I need you to be specific about what you heard and saw as well as anything else.”

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The Crakenburg Carters

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Kevin looked across the tables in the Lonely Goat and shook his head at the farmers who shook with fear. “We don’t have no choice. We need to cut n’ store the wheat now,” one farmer proclaimed as he sipped on his ale. Some farmers agreed, the tired ones who spent half the night shooing the locusts from the crops to no avail. “But half the crops aren’t ready yet!” another protested which was met with cheers from other farmers.

“Mine wont be ready for weeks. If I cut them now then I wont have anything!” another said loudly which gained both ire and support from the others. “Well if you don’t do anything about it you will lose it all. Damned if you do damned if you don’t” Reeves said as he looked up from tired hands. “We have two options. Burn them out or we get the help from the druids” he continued. This drew the quiet from everyone in the inn.

“I’ll do it. I’ll seek the druids out and if they won’t help us willingly I will make them!” Kevin called out as he stood up. He had listened to these farmers for hours now and none of them were taking any action. ” Standing up he slammed his third empty tankard on the table and stormed out of the inn. A few of the others, The Crakenburg Carters, stood up to go with him and with a group of five they left to seek out the druids for help.

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Captain of the Skipping Sailfish

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As the fire on the beach crackled and feasted upon the dried drift wood and leaves from the large palm trees the party sat next to the sailors and watched the moonlight caress the top of the waves. As they watched a trail of lights appeared and moved under the water, through the shallows and towards the old tower.

“Ah the lights have returned, on clockwork,” the old sailor, John Buckler, added noting the party’s gaze. “Those lights are the reason we warn people from exploring the waters late at night as we can never be sure of what they might find. Lost a few passengers, and the crew mates that went to save them one night as they chased after the lights. Nothing good from lights in the dark I can assure you of that.” The captain added as he had a swig from a flask.

“What that captain says is true,” Vensella said, one of the islanders who had come to greet them, “We have lost many people from our village from chasing lights in the dark. Those belong to monstrous fish that use the lights to lure prey into the waters before they are ripped apart with vicious teeth. They are one of the reasons that we forbid our people from going to the Tower, Mellandra’s Keep as you call it.” she paused as she snapped open a crabs claw and chewed on the exposed meat.

“The other reason is the curse.” she began again.

“Now the curse is just a myth.” Jorn Buckler replied as he laughed. “To scare people from going near the tower. That’s all. All can be explained by the nature of the isle and the creatures in the water.” he finished as he threw the half of a clam shell into the fire. 

“Whatever you think, our people know it to be a curse. Those whose greed consumes them surrender their soul to the lady of greed. She is a greedy deity who takes more than she gives and in her pact, her bargain, she takes your soul and leaves you empty.” Vensella continued as she leaned closer to the fire, sticking the other end of a crab leg into the flames. 

“Whoever dies in search of their greed, of the greedy pirates treasure, has their soul lost and they are cursed to wander the isle in search of gold to sate their deities hunger.” Vensella punctuated her story with the slurp of more crab meat. 

“And they have three tentacles from each armpit, they howl at the moon like mad men and they run on their hands not their feet. We have heard the stories young Vensella.” Jorn laughed as she shot him a mirthful smirk. “But whatever the reason, fish, spook or curse don’t go chasing the dead man’s chest regardless of how many hundreds of pounds of gold lay within.”

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