Aleris and Sable

533TuAlSa

The Eyeless Spire loomed above the rooftops like a silent windowless sentinel, which is where it got its name the eyeless spire. Its smooth black stone broken only by narrow slits where birds flew in and out of delivering packages and messages. The streets around it were quieter than the markets, but still alive with the hum of people, commerce and of course, the magical beasts that called this city home. The flicker of wards and telepathic communication was everywhere and for some in the party the sense was dizzying.

Inside the spire, the air carried the faint scent of parchment, candle wax and dust. The party were recognised quickly and were shown to a room on the seventh floor where Aleris Quall, clerk of the Eyeless Spire, was waiting for them and tapping her foot nervously. She was a slender half-elf with silver hair pulled neatly back, she wore deep blue robes that matched the ink stains on her fingers. Behind her desk, piles of scrolls and ledgers were stacked with impossible precision, yet a small tray of half-finished letters hinted at how quickly the day’s events had unsettled her.

‘You met Sable,’ she began, her voice calm but strained. The black raven was perched on the back of her chair, feathers puffed and eyes darting around the room. ‘He’s usually the most dependable creature I’ve ever worked with. Since last night, however…’ She trailed off, glancing at the bird, who tilted his head sharply as if to cut her off and daring her to go further.

Aleris leaned forward, lowering her voice. ‘You may suspect why I’ve asked for you to come here. The Charm of Concord has been stolen. It’s no mere ornament or trinket. Without it, the bonds between familiars, magical beasts and their masters weaken with each passing moon. You may have noticed it already that the beasts, magical and otherwise,’ she gestured at Sable, ‘are acting strange. The Charm of Concord’s missing that’s why the beasts in the city are behaving strangely. If it isn’t recovered quickly, the situation will worsen.’ she hesitated again before adding. ‘My apprentice Yasil, he was meant to be looking after it in the vault that we manage but he didn’t show up for handover this morning and I only found his leather satchel next to where the talisman was kept. Emphasis on was as it was missing when I found the bag.’

She explained that the talisman had been kept in the academy’s reliquary, protected by layers of wards and guarded by herself, Yasil and their familiars. Whoever took it bypassed those defences without leaving a trace. The theft, she was certain, had happened less than a day ago when she entrusted its safe keeping to Yasil. She slid a folded writ across the desk, marked with the seal of the Eyeless Spire. ‘This will give you the right to investigate. I can promise you payment and the gratitude of the academy… but above all, if this is not resolved soon, Ashford-on-Weir will not be safe for anyone mage or mundane.’

Before dismissing them, Aleris gave the names of others who might offer insight. Master Othran Vey, the proud and tight-lipped Headmaster of the academy, had been quick to insist the matter remain ‘internal.‘ Serra Greenwhistle, keeper of the city’s draybeasts, had been struggling with animals refusing to work and attacking their handlers. And a boy named Fennik, a nimble-fingered street urchin who haunted the alleyways near the market, had claimed to see “small shadows” moving together at night — though he was more likely to speak for a coin than for free. She also mentioned when Sable wasn’t listening, that she had requested the city guard find Yasil as so far, he was the suspect for the theft but something felt off about his disappearance.

Outside her office window, the sun was already beginning its descent towards the horizon, the streets below long in shadow. Somewhere in those streets, the trail of the Charm of Concord was growing colder.

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Elder Rinn

532TuElRi

The Elder Rinn stood over a silver lantern that they had managed to recover as they floated back down upon the strings that bound them to the totems that they were lashed to. As his weathered fingers trembling as he traced the remnants of the lantern while the other hand finished removing the woven reeds from around teh frame. ‘This was one of the sacred ones much like the one we lost to the river,’ he murmured, voice low and taut. ‘The other one held a key of sorts while this one held a feather.’ he said as he brought out a silver feather that seemed to shimmer with moonlight. ‘They are not just symbolic, but real relics of this villages past.’

He paused for some time as he sat down to watch the parties. ‘The key that was lost was bound to the river spirit itself. Not something that outsiders would know or care about’ The party exchanged uneasy glances. The party hadn’t known about the history of the ritual just that the festival itself was a highlight for many nearby villages and the people that called them home. Mayor Talia Reed stepped forward, her tone firm but sympathetic. ‘They didn’t mean harm, Rinn. They’re here to help.’

Rinn’s gaze lingered on the adventurers, his eyes like moss-covered stone, ancient and unmoving. ‘Help,’ he echoed, bitterly. ‘Outsiders always say that. But the river doesn’t forget. That lantern was part of the pact. Its fall is a warning to all those that take from it.’ Regardless how the party tried to explain the old druid was unconvinced until Rinn raised a hand to silence them. ‘If the spirit awakens fully, it may offer what fools crave most: restoration. But its power is not ours to wield.’ The tumbling of a pot from outside heralded eavesdroppers.

Two small figures darted away; bare feet slapping against the wooden board and mud that made up most of the walkways in the village. ‘Amal and Jessa’. The mayor sighed as he looked to the party. ‘They’re orphans,’ she said softly. ‘Lost their parents to the river two years ago. Jessa barely speaks. Amal… he’s not the same since he came back.’ Her voice faltered. ‘They listen because they remember. Even if they don’t understand.’

‘You must find the key before it’s claimed by something that doesn’t know the bargain that is demanded.’ Rinn’s expression shifted. Less suspicion now and more one filled with sorrow. ‘The river spirit can bring back the lost,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘But it doesn’t distinguish between soul and shadow and it always takes a price without asking. If the key is found by one who seeks only reunion, it may twist that wish into something else.’ He turned to the party. ‘If you indeed only do care to help us then you must find it before someone else does. Not for power. Not for glory. But to keep the balance.’

Mayor Reed nodded. ‘We’ll support you, and I know that you need to make a living as well.’ she said with a look at elder Rinn, ‘The villagers will too, once they see your intent.’ She looked toward the door where the children had fled. ‘Start with them. Jessa dreams in symbols. Amal… he’s drawn to the river. They may already be part of this.’

Outside, the moon hung low over Riverfall, casting silver light across the wheatfields and orchards that surrounded the river and its stones.

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The Summers Clasp

531TuSuCl

The temple’s inner chamber had quieted, its enchantments holding outside sound at bay despite the coffin being up righted and the doors opened again. The party stood in a small alcove flanked by stone reliefs of celestial victories, carved in the days before Carlo had earned his name among them. Three of the coffin bearers remained behind, separated from the crowd. They all wore the signs of recent travel: scraped armour, worn cloaks, and exhaustion that ran less deep than their grief.

The party and the trio were shown to a small room and given some wine to help calm their nerves. After a few moments the warrior spoke first, his voice cracked and low. He was broad-shouldered and thick-necked, but his posture betrayed no pride. ‘I owe him everything,’ he said, eyes fixed on a point beyond the party. ‘Two weeks ago I’d have bled out in the Obsidian Pass if he hadn’t thrown me out of the fire’s path.’ His fingers curled into fists. ‘He was still strong then. Still himself.’ He offered no answers, only admiration, and the kind of quiet that comes from watching a living legend fall.

Beside him, the young dwarf rogue stared down at her boots, her voice no louder than the wind through the stones. ‘He made me see I could be more than a shadow in someone else’s tale. Even when I broke ranks… even when I failed.’ She quickly rubbed her sleeve across her eyes. ‘He pulled me out of that ruin when it collapsed. Didn’t hesitate. Just smiled and said I’d did a good job at finding scouting ahead.’ She couldn’t look at the party.

The older cleric stepped forward, adjusting the mantle over his weathered robes. Unlike the others, his expression held something unreadable; composure honed from years of preaching his doctrine. ‘I saw him fall,’ he said, his voice catching lightly, ‘we were deep in the wizard’s sanctum. The air was thick with enchantment, and the wizards apprentices stepped through the plane like shadows.’ He paused, carefully. ‘One of them, one I believe, cut him across the chest with a dark red dagger. I… I thought nothing of it until now as he was so strong and he stood and he was the twice blessed. Nothing could have killed him. That’s what I thought at least.’

The trio exchanged glances, their thoughts echoed across their faces; splintering under the weight of the clerics words. If Carlo, twice-blessed, had truly been struck down in combat by some form of cursed blade and dying later from wounds that had unimpeded him, not phased him until after they had all returned. Guilt crept in uninvited, winding through the silence as they all felt like they could, no should have saved him from the blade if they were just a bit more. Their shoulders sagged. Their hearts, already shaken, began to fracture visibly in their expressions.

But the cleric; whose god was not Auronel nor Vorthuun, held up a hand. His voice grew gentle, almost rehearsed. ‘There is a plan for all of us. Perhaps not ours to understand, but shaped nonetheless. I just hope that the plan with Carlo finds meaning.’ He stepped back slightly, squeezing the shoulder of the dwarven rogue, allowing his words to settle. ‘The blame doesn’t belong to you. We all stood with him. And we all lost something, we all did something wrong in that quest.’

And yet something lingered. A flicker of restraint in the cleric’s tone. Though the party largely accepted his account, unease remained. His eyes had flinched too briefly when describing the wound. His certainty sounded practiced. Whether it was grief or something else left unsaid, the party could not be sure. But in that moment, they held to his reassurance as a fragile shield against what truly gnawed at them: not just that Carlo was gone, but that they had no idea how, or why.

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Scholars of Yole

530TuScYo

The large tent boasted some of the messiest living quarters that has ever been seen. Shelves and bookcases that stretched from ground to canvas roof lined most of the tents and even acted as dividers for bed quarters for the Scholars of Yole. In front of the chaotic walls of shelving, books, scrolls and trinkets was a large wooden desk that had a young man sitting behind it scribbling in a ledger.

As men and women walked up to the front desk the man behind took their name, their occupation and then offered them a sum of money. As the parties approached the desk they could see that the man was in fact a young adult dwarf with a well groomed beard, neat overcoat and glassed. ‘Name and occupation please.’ the man asked as they stood before the desk. Upon hearing that the were adventurers he looked up at the party. ‘All here as one hey? And just in time as we just uncovered the way in.’ he said as he scratched in some notes in his ledger before opening a different book.

‘Ten gold pieces a day, double if you see combat, twenty gold pieces if you are seriously hurt, a further twenty if you are mortally wounded.’ he offered and pushed out the book to see the terms and conditions listed out. It was noted that based on what they had discovered so far that they would expect a few days exploration, at most a week. As they considered the gold they noted a finders clause that gives them the claim to any equipment, artefacts, relics or treasure that is found within the construct that was not deemed to have significant importance.

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The next two days went by without massive incident. The party acted as the scouts and vanguards for the scholars as they explored further into the buried passageways, halls and rooms. Each room had some form of trap before the door which was easy to detect and soon the party expected a new trap to be just before every door.

Each room progressively got in a worse state with the first one being rich in items of significant importance to the scholars. However, as they travelled deeper into the structure they found many of the artefacts destroyed and eaten away by time and decay. As they pushed into the third day they came across a room which was spotlessly clean with no evidence of the moulded, decayed wood, fabrics or metals that the previous rooms had.

However, the door to the next room was opened and the trap had been sprung without any sign of what had triggered it. As the scholars looked around the room to take notes the party noticed that the next room and hall was much the same, spotlessly clean with another open door and another set off trap. Something was not adding up.

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Sal Wethridge

529TuSaWe

Sal eventually had calmed down after the healers had examined the body of her companion, finding nothing that would have caused their death. The party had revealed the dagger that had half of it stop glimmering with magic which had taken Sal a few minutes to realise it belonged to her friend.

‘Tamiel always bragged about his dagger. Something about being blessed by a nighthag. We were coming to Miran to help the city look for its mage killer. We thought that us two would be able to handle it as Tamiel knew magic and I am rather good with a sword and can handle myself in a fight against foes both magical and mundane. Normally…’ she said as the gloom settled back over the top of her.

‘That’s why he was in that stupid isle looking for a stupid book that he thought may have held the secrets to what was happening. He hated being wrong and got embarrassed by Jake, the man at the reception, was quick to tell Tamiel where to find what he was after. I wasn’t paying attention though as I was distracted…’ she added as the sound of remorse and regret made her voice crackle.

‘As soon as I stopped talking to Jake I tried reaching out to Tamiel via our sending stones and when it didn’t work I rushed to where I thought he would be. Life less in shadow. Those stupid drifting globes of light had shattered on the ground and so it took me a moment to see him lying there.’

The party took a few moments more to talk to the tall woman, her shoulder length blonde hair resting against her armour and while she wasn’t a fine featured woman her proud features and imposing feature didn’t match the look of desperation nor the sullen look in her eyes.

Finding Jake and working back from where Tamiel had been investigating or looking for something seemed like the next best step but for now they waited with Sal and tried to see if she would remember anything else. The only thing coming to her mind was how the shadows had looked upon the body of her friend as she rounded the corner.

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Trusted Axe’s Daughter

528TuTrAxDa

The party had a long chat with Garmanel and Gondanel and learnt a what the current problem was. Their long term contract with two well renown merchants had fallen through but the causation appeared to be something that was not their doing. The Trusted Axe Cartel was made up from a group of what was once struggling smiths who were banded together to forge dwarven goods inside the city of Armele.

The cartel had made a good name for themselves and they were exceedingly proud in the quality of their armour, weapons and other goods that they sold to larger merchants who would take it from there. They claimed they kept their investments secure and always paid their debts and left nothing outstanding with client or supplier but this time it was different.

Jeb and Tarnius had taken over the Armele branch of the Five Spokes which was the largest merchant company on the continent. The early engagements and contract negotiations had gone well with nothing changing so the same trust and set up had applied to the already established contract. Goods first with a deposit then the rest of the gold upon final shipment.

Yet they had broken the deal, the goods that they claimed they had been given to them were not what the Trusted Axe Cartel had sent them and had obviously been made by human hands, inexperienced hands at that. The party looked at the information that had been given to them but something stood out. They’d have to find where the dwarven goods had truly gone to if they were to help the Cartel. The gold offered for finding information was good but being friends or even partners the Trusted Axe Cartel would last them a long time as the only thing that outlasted their grudges was their loyalty.

Gondanel finished asking them for help and Garmanel had mentioned the reward, including the long term standings with the Cartel, and as the party thought it over they seemed to relax. The Tavern had attempted to get back to normality and after the old dwarf bought a round of dinks for the tavern it seemed to kick off more. The hothead Garabek left following the trail that he believed would take him to the suspicious humans who were spending big in the tavern just before which also helped the mood of the tavern substantially.

The young female dwarf Gondanel had a short high ponytail of dark black hair that made her skin look a bit darker than it was. Tanned from the heat of a forge she had a lean muscular build but a friendly face. Garmanel on the other hand showed his age and despite still having a broad build of a dwarf their was almost no hair that wasn’t white or grey either on his short cropped head or is long braided beard.

Giving them the night to think on it the dwarves let them know where they could find them in the morning once they made a decision and they left. The party now had a tough decision to make. Potential financial stability for as long as a dwarfs memory is came with a price. Finding those who had besmirched their honour and bringing them to the Cartel for justice instead of to the local guard.

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Ghoul Patrol

527TuGhPa

Each step they took closer to the long road named Merchants Way was filled with dread as the signs of carnage and bloody combat were everywhere. But blood didn’t disturb the party as much as the lack of bodies. Not a single fallen soldier, guard, mercenary or citizen could be found and despite the large amount of blood spilt everywhere the evidence that the bodies were moved was clear as day.

Drag marks, trails of blood and further carnage travelled up Merchants Way towards the castle where cries of alarm and screams of terror could be heard. Being careful to avoid the debris from broken carts, doors and the occasional wall the party pushed on. Soon enough they found where the bodies had been moved to.

The shambling horde of bodies came from the alleys showing unusual intelligence for the undead as they moved to cut off a retreat from the party, Cinella and Bunker who were joined by a few good soldiers. As the undead rushed in the party braced and cut, battered and blasted them down to a true death. However, as the party fought to keep the cracked fingernails, and rotting teeth from sinking into them a strange realisation came over them.

Half of the undead were the populace of this city but the other half were weakened, older corpses that looked like they had already sustained some heavy wounds previously. These had been dead for much much longer than the others and the markings and aging wounds on their body told the party everything they needed to know. They had been prepared for this attack on Felkirk, these were the shock troops that the invading force had planned all along, an army of zombies.

The freshly risen dead told them that there was a powerful mage with them, a necromancer of considerable power and even as the last of the zombies fell as the magic that animated their broken bodies winked out of existence a raven cawed loudly above them before turning to fly off up Merchants way.

It appears as though their company was expected and it was more than just soldiers and street thugs that had been sent to Felkirk to take the city. Taking a moment to staunch their own and their allies wounds they hurried off up the street towards the castle.

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Resistance Rigger

526TuReRi

Each way the party investigated into the docks there were soldiers. Not just a few but enough that there was no way to get in both quietly and unscathed. As they were returning the way they had came they came across a swinging rope that had come loose from a support beam above them. A series of pullies could be seen at the top and a hook lay at the bottom, swinging a foot or so from the pavement below.

‘Psst.’ a voice trickled down from above them. ‘Psst. Up here.’ The party followed the voice to find a sturdy looking man crouching by an opening in the roof above them. He was a dockworker and by the looks of him he was a rigger, a worker who specialised in getting the largest and heaviest of goods from ships and into wagons to get to where they need to be.

After a few moments of thinking the party ascended the rope and he extended a platform that enabled them to get into the roof where he was. Inside there were several crates, barrels and even an empty cage. It took a few moments before the party found the small pile of armour that looked as if it belonged to the soldiers on the docks. Following their gaze the man puffed our his broad chest.

‘The names Bunker, I’m the resistance, and a rigger, a resistance rigger.’ he grinned. ‘These men tried take me down but I know these buildings like the back of my hand. This is my dock and they aint’ about to take that away from me.’ he thumped his chest for emphasis.

The man was broad, bald and stood a bit over six feet tall. Sharp brown eyes that shone with an intelligence that came from years of mastering his craft. ‘So what’s the plan? The guard are coming? The mercenary guild tried but their men and women make up some of the burning piles of bodies. Actually the guard are in the pile too.’ Bunker then crouched and crawled across the roof top where he was.

Across from there was another roof-access door that enabled items to be hauled up into the roof from the dockside but the gaps in the door allowed the party to view the docks perfectly. The docks swarmed with soldiers – it was not going to be an easy time expelling these invaders.

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Counter Strike

525TuCoSt

As the final assailant drop the sound of rushing hard-bottomed boots and clanking gear could be heard rushing towards them. Turning the corner came the vision of many ready swords, shields and people that formed a patrol of the nights watch. Looking over the party they assessed the fallen infiltrators across the ground before them.

A young woman walked forward to greet them ‘This your doing eh?’ she said pointing her spear at the limp forms of the masked individuals at their feet. She was maybe early twenties with a short bob of blonde hair that finished just above her brown eyebrows. A scar poked out from under her fringe and cut down across her right eye finishing at her jawbone which spoke of a wound that never quite healed correctly. As she judged the parties reply she nodded once. ‘It’d be best if you come with us. The new Captain will want to see you while he organises a counter strike.’

As the party hurried off with the night guard around them they were always watching for new signs of danger. A whisper of cloth here, a touch of leather and stone here, hurried whispers of fear elsewhere. There was signs that the fighting was not over yet and even worse, that the fighting was escalating elsewhere with explosions, horn blows and the cries of the dying from elsewhere in the city. ‘I am Lieutenant Cinella Tanner. We have suffered some pretty big loses from this brazen attack and we don’t know anything about them. You’re the first to have fought off and won against the assailants from what we have heard.’ she began as they turned onto a main street and marched their way to a barricade in the middle of the street. ‘Our own barracks was hit first. It claimed the life of Captain Jez Harker who died trying to get people in the locked up out even as the flames tore at the building.’

The few minutes that followed were quiet to say the least as they rushed towards the makeshift barracks. A tall man with a shot of silver hair was yelling loud enough that even outside of the parmentier that the party could tell he was beyond furious. ‘I don’t care how you do it! Get the rats out of my city now!’

Cinella looked at the party. ‘That’s the new captain, Svene Unwik. He’s been ordered to take control and get the streets back under our control. Give me a moment.’ she said as she darted forward. The party followed a few paces behind, let through the gates as Cinella had announced them in advance. But as they approached where the captain was they couldn’t even try to not overhear what was being said.

‘Lieutenant Tanner, there is no way that I am letting a bunch of civilians get involved. I don’t care what they are capable of, I will not speak to them. You are ordered to escort them back to where you found them and get back to patrolling the streets like what your duty is.’ the man spoke with such passion and speed that he did not give any chance for rebuttal or interruption. When they heard Cinella respond quietly it immediately met with a ‘Am I clear Lieutenant?’

Looking defeated Cinella marched out and strode past the party, her eyes furious. ‘Come with me.’ is all she said as she marched back to the streets. ‘I’ve got orders to escort you back to your accommodation.’ is all she said as she stormed off back the way they came.

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Queen Lorel

524TuQuLo

As the party entered the hallway where the Manservant, Tolf, was meant to be found and they were stopped by a stern looking maid and a man who was obviously a healer of some skill.

‘If you’re here for Tolf then he’s asleep. The King should know better than to disturb a man thats resting.’ the stern maid snapped. The healer placed a hand on her shoulder in a kind manner.

‘Tolf is resting, I gave him some medicine to give him a dreamless sleep as the nightmares have gotten worse. Since the incident he has been unable to sleep and his dreams are filled with images of a beast in the halls of the castle. He calls out in his sleep but remembers very little when he wakes, just the feeling of claws on his skin and glowing eyes.’ the healer shook his head and looked comfortingly towards the maid.

‘He should be well enough to take visitors tomorrow after the potion has worn off.’

The party then turned their attention to the next person who the king had suggested, the Queen herself. Ascending the steps the party again admired the fine decorations that lined the halls and walkways as they followed the guard in front of them. They were so lost in the pleasantness of the room that when the man spoke they were startled. ‘Now stay behind me, don’t make sudden movements and remember, she is still the Queen.’ he said as he stared at them. After waiting for a few moments he opened the door that they had stopped at.

Inside the furniture looked worse for ware as several smaller chairs had been clawed to pieces or simply shattered. Bits of timber and cloth littered the room and it wasn’t for a few nervous heartbeats until they saw the queen. She sat in a relatively intact chair in the corner of the room where it was darkest and watched them as they entered the room. ‘Your majesty, we have some travellers, adventurers, here to ask some questions.’

The queens demeanour shifted slightly before she stood and walked forward. The teal dress she wore was accented with a brown tunic that whilst being plain was obviously well made and fit for the queen. ‘So despite me being cured of this disease that no one will tell me what I had I now have these interlopers coming to laugh at me, the mad queen who loses herself and attacks her servants?’ she snapped with the last word punctuated by a snapping growl sound that the party had heard something similar before. After a moment her eyes shifted to something softer again.

‘I apologise. I assure you I am not normally this ill mannered or aggressive. I don’t remember much during the incidents,’ she said as she looked and gestured around the room at the broken furniture and cloth. ‘but I do remember the feeling of being trapped, cornered and angry.’ she smiled weakly, a silver necklace around her neck glinting in the light that came from the windows that nearly had no curtains remaining on them.

After a few more questions, some of which she was more aggressive and snappy with her tone and others she was more polite and queen-like the party were ushered out of the room. The room looked like a wild animal had run rampage in there but the queen admitted to doing it herself during the fits of rage that she was getting.

As they opened the door the guard looked back at the queen who made a noise. ‘Seth, can you get the cooks to send up whatever they are making for lunch, it smells delightful.’ the guard nodded, looking a bit confused before closing the door, baring it from the outside and heading down stairs. It wasn’t until the party had reached the bottom of the stairs that they could smell the roasted mutton wafting down from the kitchens.

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