# drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour



## drnuncheon

_The official symbol of the Freeport City Watch is the seal of the city on a copper medallion worn around the neck. The medallion has come to be known as the 'Freeport Noose' among watchmen - and criminals. You can tell an experienced Watchman by the fact that they have found a different way to display their badge._

Warning: this thread will contain spoilers for Green Ronin's Freeport series of adventures (*Death in Freeport*, *Terror in Freeport*, *Madness in Freeport*, and *Hell in Freeport* - assuming the game lasts that long. If you are a player or plan to be a player in one or more of these adventures...turn back now.  I'm also stealing various other stuff from a variety of sources like Penumbra's *En Route* sourcebook and *Dungeon* magazine - I'll try to mark such as spoilers when I can.

For the rest of you, let us move on to the next post where you can meet our heroes (such as they are.)

*Important Note*: If you don't like log-format posts (or if you don't like story-format posts, I suppose), the Story Hour switches from log to actual story partway through.  After I finish writing up *Madness in Freeport* I'll be revisiting the early posts and rewriting them as stories...


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## drnuncheon

*Our Heros (such as they are)*

_Working as a Watchman in Freeport has to be the most thankless job in existence. The pay is lousy, you get no backup, and most of the time when you arrest someone, they're back on the streets inside of an hour.

Working as a Watchman in the dock district is worse._

Di'Fier is one of that rare breed: a hereditary Watchman. (Rare because often Watchmen don't live long enough to have children.) His father and grandfather were both members of the City Watch, and are proud to see the tradition being carried on. Di'Fier is also rare in another way: like his mother, he makes a study of the arts of wizardry.

_(Di'Fier started as a Fgt1/Wiz2, and is working along the path to becoming a Spellsword from Tome & Blood.)_

Dru, his elven partner, comes from the opposite side of the law. Her father has been a criminal in Freeport since before the time of the first Sea Lords. They...no longer get along, shall we say. Dru has become a Watchman to distance herself from the criminal actions of the rest of her family.

_(Dru started as a Fgt1/Rog2 and is not to the best of my knowledge heading for any prestige class in particular.)_

Both characters are Sergeants of the Watch. Neither are popular with their superiors, since both are honest cops. This may be why they've been assigned to patrol the Dock district.

For full stat blocks and some more background information, visit the Dramatis Personae thread in the Rogue's Gallery.


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## drnuncheon

*Important NPCs*

NPCs marked with a (D) are dead (or presumed so)
NPCs marked with a * are from Green Ronin's *Freeport* adventures. NPCs marked with a + are from other sources (detailed below).

*Aggro** - orcish pirate, first mate on board the _Bloody Vengeance_.

*Alust* - elven wizard, Guild member and member of the Naïlo organization.

*Andolyn*+ - Wizard's Guild member, retired adventurer, wife of Gendrew.

*Arjis* - petty criminal, involved in drug smuggling.

*Davos* - Watchman, Kliege's partner.

*Donnach* - Captain of the City Watch (2nd Shift). Prone to migraines, especially when Dru and Di'Fier are about.

*Echo* - young girl living on the street. Only able to repeat the last few words of what you say to her.

*Egil** - acolyte of Kherarditinos, friend of Lucius.

*Enzo** - low-level member of "the Brotherhood". In protective custody now after trying to set up an assassination attempt on Dru & Di'Fier.

*Garto* - dwarven wizard & language expert, friend of Gothos.

*Gendrew*+ - cook, husband to Andolyn.

*"Gothos Ebonrazor"*+ - rapier-weilding elven wizard using an assumed name, member of the Guild, friend of Garto.

*Hallfred* - Watchman. Buff.

*Hogni* - Watchman.  Asthmatic and generally not healthy.

*Ivellimor* - elven mage, Guild member, and member of the Naïlo organization.

*Jaffar* - Watchman. Always speaks in a whisper due to a throat injury sustained on his first night in the Watch.

*Jemmis* - petty smuggler. Owes Dru and Di'Fier a big favor.

*Kiva* - Tas' partner, a Watchman.

*Kenzil** - Member of the Freeport Wizard's guild.  Rumor has it he is involved with one of the crime families of the city.

*Kliege* - Watchman, Davos' partner.

*Lucius** - librarian at the Temple of Kheraditinos, his disappearance got Dru and Di'Fier involved in investigating "the Brotherhood".

*Lydon** - sea captain, bucking for a spot on the Captain's Council. Sponsoring Swagfest.

*Milos** (D) - assistant to Thuron. Slain by Dru and Di'Fier.

*Norton** - 'greeter' at the Temple of Kherarditinos. Always seems to be on duty when Dru and Di'Fier come around. He's begun to develop a nervous tic around the pair, because their presence always means trouble.

*Quarion* - elven mage, Guild member, and member of the Naïlo organization.

*Reed** - works in the Hall of Records.

*Rittoro** (D) - leader of the Yellow Shields, killed in an assassination attempt on Dru and Di'Fier.

*Scarbelly** - orcish pirate, captain of the _Bloody Vengeance_.

*Spruce* - Watchman working in the Records department.

*Tas* (D) - another Watchman, Kiva's (former) partner.

*Tarmon** - High Wizard of Freeport.

*Tensin Naïlo* - Dru's father, prominent elven crimelord.

*Thuron** - High Priest of Kherarditinos, God of Knowledge and Prophecy.

*Tiera Dela*+ - possibly the most powerful wizard in Freeport, Tiera is almost completely uninterested in Guild politics.

*Torsten Roth** - head of the Freeport Merchant's Guild.

*Ulfgar* - Young dwarven smith. His father Traubon went insane while working on a secret project.

*Verlaine** - Member of the Captain's Council, Drac's right-hand man.

*Weggit* (D) - a merchant from Highgate, acting a the Sea Lord's factor on the mainland.  Committed suicide (?) jumping from a window of the Sa Lord's palace.

*Xavier Gordon** - member of the Captain's Council.

+ - Gendrew and Andolyn are from the WOTC Web Adventure *Something's Cooking*.  Tiera Dela is mentioned in Atlas Games' *En Route*. Gothos Ebonrazor created by Isaac Sher.


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## drnuncheon

*Gamemaster Notes*

As you'll notice, there's only two PCs - sadly, my TT group is rather small at the moment, and consists of my wife and an old high school buddy of mine. Since *Death in Freeport* is designed for 4 first-level characters, I decided they needed a boost - hence the starting as experienced watchmen of 3rd level.

This also allowed them to shore up a major weakness in the duo (at least from a typical D&D standpoint): no cleric. Both of the players used a chunk of their starting money to pick up plenty of healing potions (and a little bit of holy water too). I'm hoping that between that and the aid of Brother Egil they can get through the adventure without taking 'dismemberment leave' from their jobs.

My chief inspiration for the twist of making the characters guardsmen comes from Simon Green's Hawk & Fisher series. They may not be high literature, but they're fun to read - and I'm not aiming for 'high literature' in this game either.

The first session should be played sometime this weekend, so expect an update next week. In between now and then, I'll see if I can get copies of the character sheets for inclusion in the Rogue's Gallery. Oh, and answer any questions.

Lastly, to Piratecat, Sagiro, Wulf, Nemmerle, Samnell, and everybody else whose story hours have given me so much enjoyment: this one's for you. If you guys get a quarter of the enjoyment out of this that I've gotten from your posts, it will be worth it.


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## drnuncheon

*An Introduction, Of Sorts...*

Dusk settles over the city of Freeport, but the dimming of the light hardly dims the activity going on. Freeport is busy, from Old City to Scurvytown, from the Temple District to the Docks. In fact, it is one particular spot of activity on these docks that concerns us: inside a warehouse, a group of men works by torchlight, unloading crates from a large wagon. A fairly common scene in this or any other port city, to be sure - at least, if one only looks at the surface of things. But in Freeport, things are so rarely as they seem...

"Come on, we've gotta get these unloaded before the boss gets here. We're runnin' behind. Quit lookin' at the roof."

"Yeah, all right."

One of the men, apparently the leader of this band, takes a crowbar to one of the crates, opening it with a squeal of  protesting nails. The lid is forced open, revealing some ceramic pottery surrounded by dark green-brown leaves for packing material. But it is not the cheap pots the man reaches for. Instead he picks up one of the leaves, rubbing it between his fingers and sniffing it. A grin spreads across his face. "Good stuff."

The mood spreads to the other men, and the unloading begins to move more swiftly - except for one fellow.

"Arjis, what the hell you keep lookin' at up there?"

"Big-ass crow. Givin' me the creeps."

"You been smokin' too mucha this stuff. Just a damn bird."

The bird under discussion cocks its head and watches them intently.

"I'm tellin' you, it's watchin' us."

"Awright, I'll get rid of it." The man stoops down and grabs a rock, whipping it sidearm at the bird. It comes close - too close for the raven, which rises from its perch with a flutter of wings, back into the dimly lit rear of the warehouse...

"It's gone now, you happy? Now get back to work."

...through an open window, out into the streets of the city. It banks, gliding around the side of the warehouse, until it sees a pair of figures waiting outside the building. Waiting, and watching. The raven catches the air with curved wings, slowing until it can land on the man's outstretched hand in a manner more suited to a well-trained falcon than a common corvid.

Then again, in Freeport, things are so rarely as they seem.


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## drnuncheon

*Session One: Butt Kicking, Investigation, and a Very Embarassing Fight*

(GM Note: I think for the sake of my time these will have to be in log format rather than story format. Picking up directly from the intro, we find Di'Fier and Dru outside a warehouse. Inside the warehouse, a bunch of 8 guys unloading crates of what our heros believe to be _kantha_ leaves, raw material for a popular narcotic - and brought in to the city without paying the proper duties.)

Dru draws her rapier and prepares to kick in the door.

"We should find out who owns this warehouse," Di'Fier notes.

"Sure, after we kill everyone." Dru's a little...direct...in her methods of justice.

So, after a forcefully applied boot, the door flies open and the duo politely inform the miscreants that they are under arrest: Dru by charging in and spitting one of them on her rapier, Di'Fier by casting _daze_ on another. Oh, and they also say "City Watch! You're under arrest!"

_OK, if you don't want to read a detailed account of the combat, skip to the next post, where I'll resume the story. If you want crunchy bits and gore, read on._

Sadly, the miscreants realize that they've got our watchmen outnumbered 4 to 1, and they resist arrest, rather forcefully. 

The wounded man bolts, and two others dash for cover behind some of the other crates. One stands looking befuddled, but the rest pull out nasty looking knives and go after the watch: 2 on Dru, 2 charging Di'Fier. Both our heroes take minor damage (2 points). Di'Fear returns the favor with his bastard sword for 6 points to one of the guys, while Dru decides wisely to leave the flanking arrangement and tumble behind one of the fellows. Unfortunately she misses.

Well, that wound was enough for one of the guys facing Di'Fier - he turns and bolts into the shadows as well. The other guy tries to bull-rush his way past and into the street, but bounces off the fighter-mage. Dru is able to fend off one of her opponents, but not both - a small wound (3 points). Di'Fier looks at the guy who just bounced off of him, and gives him a little 5-point lovetap. Dru spots the two guys who went for cover earlier: they're readying crossbows. She distracts her opponent with a Bluff roll and dives under the wagon for cover.

Well, with the disappearance of one target, there's only Di'Fier - and he's nicely silhouetted in the doorway. Two crossbow bolts slam into him for a whopping 14 points. He's upset, and displays this with a critical hit to his melee opponent, cleaving him from collarbone nearly to hip (and taking him to -17 hit points. Ow.) Deciding to not be there when the crossbow guys reload, Di'Fier steps back around the corner of the warehouse and bleeds a bit. Dru pops up from behind the wagon, having pulled out her shortbow, and does a little sniping of her own, downing one of the crossbowmen.

The remaining crossbowman reloads and returns fire at Dru, scoring a beautiful hit...on the wagon. The three thugs remaining move to surround Dru, and one of them scores a minor wound. Di'Fier chugs a potion of _cure light wounds_ and feels much better. Dru jumps into the wagon to get away from the people surrounding her.

The crossbowman proves that he's really got a thing against that wagon - a second bolt thunks into it. One of the thugs climbs into the wagon with Dru. Di'Fier rejoins combat with his _wand of magic missile_ out, and sends glowing energy into the crossbowman. Too bad it was only for 2 points. Dru shows the guy climbing onto the wagon that it's not a great idea when someone with a blade is already on the wagon.

The guy who Dru just wounded decides that discretion is the better etc etc and runs for the back. Wonder what's back there? 

The crossbowman puts another bolt into poor Di'Fier, who looks annoyed. Dru takes her opponent to exactly 0, and Di'Fier drops his wand and charges the reloading crossbowman, taking the fight out of him as well.

So, with a pair of prisoners and a wagon full of _kantha_ leaves, our heros bandage their wounds and send the raven to fetch backup.


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## drnuncheon

*Session One, Part Two: Investigation*

While awaiting their backup, Di'Fier ties up the prisoners and does a bit of interrogation, in which he discovers that a) they know nothing, and b) the guy who does know something ran into the back. Heading back there, Dru finds...nobody. There is a crate that looks like it's been moved recently, and moving it again reveals an entrance into the sewers.

"I hate sewers," Dru says sourly. "Why is it always sewers?" 

(GM Note: This _may_ be due to incidents in the online game I ran, where we tramped around in the sewers for hours chasing a wererat rogue/wizard.)

The prisoners and the contraband are turned over to the other guardsmen that show up, and our heroes go off-shift. Time for some R and R...or is it? As they head to their rooms in the Old City near the Temple District, a young man in the robes of a priest of Kherarditinos (god of knowledge, prophecy, and the moon) hails them. The man, Brother Egil, has been trying to find honest watchmen to look into the disappearance of his friend, Lucius. The duo agree, and it's off to Lucius' house for a look around.

The place is a mess - which is odd, since Lucius is a librarian. Apparently he's one of the kind that keeps his filing system inside his head, though. Maybe it's for job security. A quick turnover of the place reveals a 'to do' list and some new shelving in the basement - how odd.

The list has some unusual entries: _get some sleep!_ is one of them, and 'turnips' is another. It also contains references to a diary and to travel logs. Oh, and the big clue, 'talk to Capt. Scarbelly'. Still, they take the time to toss the place a little more thoroughly, and in the false bottom of a desk drawer they find a diary.

It finally sinks in to Egil that his pet policemen are wounded, and he heals the pair of them so they won't die before they find his friend. After that, the three part ways: Egil goes to morning services, while the other two head to sleep (or trance) and to study the diary.

The diary paints a rather unusual picture of a man who has lost five years of his life, and whose obsession with those years is growing. It also mentions the dreams he's been having - dreams of cities that stretch to the skies and indescribably strange creatures. When Dru meets Di'Fier for breakfast (during everyone else's lunch) she passes this information on to him.

So, the duo set out to do some investigating. First things first, though: they stop by the Hall of Records to meet with their buddy Reed, who is, as usual, having a bad day. A little gratuity cheers him up, and he promises to check on who owns that warehouse for them. 

After that it's back to the dock to find out about this 'Capt. Scarbelly' character. He's been in port for about a week, it turns out, but instead of the usual hellraising he and his crew have been sticking to their ship. Sometimes the captain slips out for a bite and a beer at the Rusty Hook.

Apparently that was enough for them on that account, because their next step was to go across the town to the Temple of Kherarditinos. To get inside, Di'Fier uses the brilliant story that he has come to research an _invisibility_ spell. Norton - the person at the front desk - directs them to the section on arcane spellcrafting. Dru gets bored.

"Er...miss? Would you please stop throwing your knife into the bookcase? You're disturbing the researchers..."

Having done that, they go *back* across town...to the docks again! They drop by Scarbelly's ship and try to find out anything they can about Lucius. The orcish guards are less than forthcoming:

"Sod off."

"He's the subject of an investigation," says Dru.

"He ain't here, sod off."

Di'Fier gets a bright idea. "There's a reward."

"Sod o...reward?" One of the guards looks slyly at the other. "Y'ain't gonna tell Aggro about the reward, are ya?"

Di'fier grins. "Of course not."

The guard hurries off to get someone else of more importance. The huge burly orc that returns doesn't look to happy to see a pair of watchmen at the base of his gangplank. He spits over the side. "Th'hell d'you want?"

"We're looking for a man named Lucius," says Di'fier.

Big Orc: "An' I should care why?"

"There's a reward."

One of the gangplank guards emits a scream of rage. Apparently this big orc is Aggro, who they had just promised not to tell about the reward, and now the human's gone and ruined his visions of gold. The orc is so upset that he pulls his scimitar and hacks at a surprised Di'Fier, who just manages to get out of the way of the blade. Dru responds by running him through with her rapier, and it's looking pretty grim before Di'Fier shouts out, "Stand down! He drew on us! We don't want to kill you all!"

Normally this display of apparent weakness would have triggered an attack from the entire orcish crew, but something in Di'Fier's voice - and just maybe the speed with which Dru dispatched their crewmate - causes them to pause. Aggro disgustedly kicks the orc's corpse into the harbor. "He was here," he offers, "wantin' t'talk to th'cap'n. I sen' him away."

Well, it looks like Aggro will be of no help. As they depart, Di'Fier notes to Dru, "At least we won't have to share the reward with them!"

"*What* reward?" Dru growls.

Next time: an attempted assassination leads to an embarassing fight, and Di'Fier says, "What do you mean I've only had 1 hit point left for the last five rounds?"


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## drnuncheon

*Session One, Part Three - A Very Embarassing Fight*

So, it's back to the Temple of Kherarditinos, where Di'Fier goes back to "research" his spell, and Dru gets bored and goes to find Brother Egil. Egil is aghast that she's shown up here and pretending to be his friend - he'd asked them to keep his involvement in the case a secret. Still, she gets some useful information out of him that they had forgotten to get before - namely, what exactly Lucius looks like.

After that it's mealtime, so they're off to the Rusty Hook to find Captain Scarbelly - and find him they do. Di'Fier buys his "friend"'s meal and drink, and the guardsmen head over to the pirate's table to ask about Lucius.

"Yeah, I 'member him. Bought me a drink, wanted to ask questions."

"What did he ask you about?" Dru wants to know.

"He *bought me a drink*," the captain repeats, "and *then* asked questions." The orc tears into his joint of meat.

Di'Fier raises his hand in a signal to the bartender: two more.

After the meal and the drinks, Scarbelly is a bit more forthcoming. "Yeah, he wanted to know about the time he spent on my ship. Damn strange, since he was there. He just wandered around taking notes all the time, but he stayed out of the way during fights, and his gold was as yellow as anyone else's. I dunno where he went after that."

That piece of information was duly noted, and the pair has just enough time to check in with Reed before their patrol. The warehouse was owned by Torsten Roth, head of the Merchant's Guild.

While on patrol, Dru and Di'Fier decide that: a) the notes Lucius was taking are probably the travel logs he referred to in his 'to do' list, and b) that they've got no chance of pinning anything on someone as powerful as Roth. Not much happens on patrol - quiet night! - so they head off to bed.


*Day 2*

Dru and Di'Fier meet for breakfast, and head to Lucius' place, thinking they may have missed something in their previous search. Another toss of the tiny house reveals nothing new, so they ponder the 'to do' list some more, especially the meaning of 'turnips'. Another check reveals that there are no turnips in the house - clearly this is important in some way and not just the librarian being out of vegetables.

Stumped and at a loss, they visit Di'Fier's father, a retired guardsman himself. As they sit around the kitchen table, he chops a turnip (turnips again!) as he listens to their investigation. "Well," he says, "seems to me like there's some folks you haven't talked to yet. How about that guy he worked for at the Temple? Sounds like they weren't having too good a time there at the end."

Following this sound advice (read: hint from the DM), Dru and Di'Fier meet their new best friend Norton at the Temple (he quakes with fear at the sight of them now), and ask to speak to Milos. They're taken to the office of the High Priest's assistant.

"Lucius? Yes, he has been missing for three days now. He is probably sleeping off the effects of an overindulgence in alcohol."

"Oh?" asks Di'Fier. "Did he have a drinking problem?"

"It would not surprise me to find that out. His behavior of late had become rather erratic. His personal hygeine suffered, as did his work."

"I see. Well, if you hear anything about him, leave word here." Like everyone else, they tell Milos the name of one of their usual hangouts. On their way out, they check the travel log section of the library, but find nothing. Frustrated, they ask for another librarian, and begin to quiz him on Lucius. One new fact emerges: he was readmitted to the temple because he brought with him a stack of rare books. They're still being cataloged and verified...very interesting.

Time once again for patrol, and Dru and Di'Fier spend their time walking the beat and speculating about the strange dreams Lucius talked about in his diary. Dru is of the opinion that the city is a place he visited. "I don't understand why he'd be dreaming about it, but it could be...mystical and sh-t." And is there a connection between the Temple and Lucius' quest for knowledge? Who knows?

At the end of their beat, dog-tired, the pair heads for home. At least, until Dru's back sprouts 6 inches of steel-tipped wood with fletching. Apparently somebody doesn't like the job their doing. Several somebodies, judging from the fact that two groups of men have just cut them off front and back. The battle is joined.

_Warning: long battle scene ahead. Read on for incredibly poor rolls or skip ahead to avoid embarrassing my players._

Di'Fier is the first to react, arcane words flowing from his lips as he summons _mage armor_ around himself. The apparent leader of these base varlets charges in, planting his battleaxe deep into the air between the two. Behind them, a robed man with a staff utters a word, and Di'Fier is turned into Di'_Fear_. Meanwhile, another of the soldiers charges up, slashing Dru brutally with his shortsword. The sniper on the roof fires into the melee, and misses, while Dru returns the blow of the man who attacked her, but with much less effect. A third attacker charges at Di'Fier but misses the panicked guardsman, as does the archer standing guard over the mage.

Di'Fier takes off in panic, dodging under sword-blows - except for one, which penetrates the _mage armor_ and draws blood. The battleaxe-wielding leader trips over the crossbow bolt embedded in the ground, and his blow goes wild. The sorcerer chants, and a deep confusion settles over Dru as she forgets what she was about to do. Her opponent remembers, but even in this state Dru's reflexes are enough to turn the strike into the lightest of scratches. Another crossbow bolt flies down from above, but unless the man's target was the ground, he missed. Dru tries valiantly to remember what it was she ought to be doing, but fails. One of the mercenaries pursues the fleeing Di'Fier, but his cowardice in striking a man from behind bears no fruit. 

The other one turns on the dazed Dru and viciously cuts her. Di'Fier gets control of himself, and he spins with bastard sword in a two-handed grip, only to have it bounce harmlessly off of his opponent's shield. Deciding that a double-team isn't good enough, Rittoro (leader of the band) makes it 3 on one...but still can't hit Dru. So much for his 2 levels of fighter. Belko the sorcerer beams a ray of frost past Di'Fier's ear, and one of the mercenaries shows up his boss by tagging the elven guardswoman. The sniper manages to land a bolt in Di'Fier's leg, and Dru hops backwards, giving her a chance to get out and drink her healing potion, restoring some health to her injured body. (This is where it starts to get sad.) Both remaining mercenaries connect with nothing.

Di'Fier heads back to take on the leader, but the leader isn't having any of that - he actually hits for the first time this battle...for a measly 3 points. Everyone starts missing everyone, except Dru, who drinks her potion of invisibility and vanishes from sight. Poor Di'Fier. Now he's the only target visible. Only one manages to hit him, though.

Next round: nobody hits except Dru. Belko panics when Dru goes invisible, guessing (and rightly so) that she's heading for him. He fires off a _burning hands_ spell - too bad Dru isn't anywhere near the area off effect. After the flames die down, Dru walks calmly up to the wizard and spits him like a rotisserie chicken, becoming visible in the process. The startled guard next to the ex-mage drops his crossbow and draws a sword, but the guardswoman cleverly interposes Belko, and the guard hacks dead body, not Dru.

Di'Fier is unable (again) to hit Rittoro, continuing his string of below-7 rolls. Rittoro has no such problem, and opens another cut on Di'Fier's torso. One of the mercenaries heads towards Dru, and the sniper misses entirely. Dru throws a tanglefoot bag at the charging merc, but it's short and to the left. Nobody else lands a blow.

Tiring of missing Rittoro, Di'Fier takes a tiny slice out of the other merc on his backhand, while both of his opponents manage to miss him entirely. Dru's opponents fare no better, nor does the rooftop sniper. Dru drops the ex-mage and beats a retreat, pulling out another tanglefoot bag as she goes.

Once again, nobody lands a blow except Dru. As the merc pursues her, she smacks the tanglefoot bag dead center on his chest. Suddenly his pursuit slows greatly. The sniper sighs, sets down his crossbow, and goes to get a sandwich - he's not doing any good any more.

Di'Fier moves away from where he is being flanked (some tactics finally occurred to him, which is good because he was at 5 hit points...apparently all his luck was used up in making his opponents miss him!) but fails to connect with his sword. 

Rittoro misses him, while the gummed-up merc pursues Dru, v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y. Dru fails to connect thanks to her opponent's shield work, but the merc fighting Di'Fier (again showing his boss up) hits the guardsman for 4.

(For the rest of the fight - 8 more rounds - Di'Fier was at 1 hit point. He didn't realize it, which may account for his actions...)

For a third time, nobody hits except for Dru: the tangled soldier s-l-o-w-l-y chases Dru as she gives a solid poke to his friend.

Finally, Di'Fier's wild sword swings manage to connect, and he gives Rittoro a pretty slash across the chest. Not enough to bring him down, though - that 2nd level has to be good for something. This time, only Di'Fier connects, as everyone else rolls like they were using a d8 to hit.

Di'Fier tires of this, and he disarms the sword-wielding soldier. Thank goodness for Improved Disarm! (That reminds me...some of Di'Fier's awful combat might be due to his use of Expertise to boost his AC...but I don't recall when he was using it and when he wasn't.) The merc goes to retrieve it, and Di misses on his AoO (as does everybody else on their regular attacks).

Well, it worked once...Di'Fier disarms the guy again. Rittoro misses, the gummed-up soldier catches up with Dru...and misses, Dru stabs his partner through the chest and takes him down, the last merc retrieves his shortsword and Di'Fier blows the AoO again.

Now Di'Fier tries his luck with Rittoro. No good - the +4 modifier for having a larger weapon really helped vs. the shortsword. Fortunately, his opponents both miss. Dru ignores the gummed up soldier and runs to help her partner.

For a fourth time, the only person to land a blow: Dru, taking the shortsword-wielding mercenary out of the picture. With a weary sigh, the tangled mercenary starts trudging back towards the other fight, but it's over before he can get there. 

Di'Fier manages to disarm Rittoro, and the mercenary (having seen his man do it twice) figures he can laugh off the guardsman's attack...so he goes for the axe. Unfortunately, Dru is the one who responds, and her rapier does what the bastard sword could not, putting poor Rittoro out of our misery. As an act of mercy, Di'Fier draws his _wand of magic missile_ and puts the gummed merc down to exactly 0 hit points. The fellow sits down and begins to weep. "Please don't tell anyone...this is so embarrassing."

The other comment on the fight came from Di'Fier's familiar: "Funny. Do it again!"

Talking with the merc reveals that a guy named Enzo hired them, and Rittoro got an ivory-handled dagger as a down payment. 

Dru retrieves the dagger and shows Di'Fier - the handle is monogrammed with the letter 'L'. There's also an address, where the mercs are supposed to pick up the rest of their payment.

Tomorrow is their day off. They rest, and pay for some healing spells to boot. On the other hand, somebody is trying to kill them. That must mean they're on the right track! Milos is a prime suspect, as this doesn't seem like Scarbelly's work, although Dru entertains the brief thought that maybe Lucius doesn't want to be found...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Interlude - Dru's Journal*

(Posted originally by Dru's player - I'm reposting to keep it in its proper sequence in the narative.)

It's been a few days since my last entry, and that is largely to do with my hectic schedule. We've been doing our normal beat down at the docks after hours, and then pursuing this missing librarian thing during the day. I have no doubts that it is probably going to get us killed. And we're not even going to get paid for it! What's wrong with us? 

But I digress. We almost got killed today, in an alley, by thugs accompanied by a magic user. It wasn't one of our shining moments, however, we did leave the fight still alive. Getting nearly killed always makes me digress a little bit. When we finally interrogated the last of the mercenaries, and rid them of any of their portable wealth, we turned up a rather nice looking dagger, with the initial "L" carved into it. Lucius? 

I don't like it, not one bit. I'm not sure who betrayed us, but I suspect the high priest's lackey, Milos. Does that mean that the high priest is involved? Is Milos acting on his own? And where is Lucius. This entire case doesn't feel right, and it has my hackles up. I'm not good with subtleties. I just want to start killing people until those that are still alive confess out of fear. I'm sure that DiFier will stop me though; he usually does when I'm getting ready to do something violent. To be continued, although I'm not sure that this is a solvable case...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Two, Part One - Mealtime Meetings*

After dragging their still-aching bodies to the common room of the inn, Dru and Di'Fier share a huge, hearty breakfast of the kind that makes the arteries of a strong man whimper in fear, and causes pig and chicken shortages in the surrounding lands. If the question is 'bacon or sausage' the answer is 'yes'.

During the meal, another guardsman enters - Tas, who has the night shift on the same beat that Dru and Di'Fier take care of. He looks awful, and his partner Kiva is nowhere to be found. "Yeah, there was trouble up by the gates to the Old City," Tas tells them. "This gnome jeweler went crazy - killed his wife, started smashing up his workshop. When me an' Kiva tried to stop him, he stabbed Kiv in the gut with a chisel. I had to take him down."

"So how's Kiva?" asks Di'Fier.

"Bad. The surgeon says the wound's going septic on account of it being in the gut."

Dru gives him one of her stock of _cure light wounds_ potions. "Dru, we can't afford this," he tells her, but she says, "I don't want to see another guard die." Tas hurries off to give the potion to Kiva, but not before asking the pair to stay alive for 2 more weeks - apparently that's the date he has in the pool.

Dru: "There's a pool?"
Di'Fier: "Yeah. I lost already."

Thinking they might need backup, Di'Fier asks Tas to come back and wait here for them after he's gotten some sleep. Tas agrees.

Our heroic duo, short of cash, go to sell the brooch and the ring they recovered from the mercenaries. Lengthy negotiations result in 6 pieces of gold changing hands - a miniscule reward for such a challenging fight. Still, they know where to find this guy 'Enzo' that hired them...but that's not until 7 pm. 

The duo decide to consult with Di'Fier's mother about the strange dreams that Lucius was having (recorded in his journal). His mother promises to look into it, and insists that they come over for lunch - Di'Fier's uncle will be there...joy.

While killing time until lunch, Dru and Di'Fier spot someone that seems to be shadowing them. Once he realizes he's been spotted, he melts away into the crowd.

Later, at Di'Fier's house, his father has prepared turnip stew. Di'Fier's uncle, treasurer of the Freeport Wizard's Guild, has brought a red wine that is far too expensive for the meal it's being served with, and he bores the group with discussion of Guild politics. Guild financial politics, even. He also puts in the standard bid for Di'Fier to "give up this silly guard business and come join the Guild - a smart boy like you could go far." Di'Fier puts him off as gently as possible.

After lunch, Dru spots Milos coming out of a store...one which Di'Fier recognizes as a shop that sells spell components. Odd, since Milos isn't a spellcaster. Milos is as pleasant as a porcupine with its skin on inside out, which is normal for him. 

After the man departs, Dru and Di'Fier duck inside and give the clerk some razzle-dazzle about Milos having recommended the shop to them, and Di'Fier wants to buy the same thing that Milos did. "Ah," says the clerk, "here you go." it's a small bell and a piece of silver wire, which Di'Fier does not recognize.

Anyway, it's about 7, so the pair heads over to the Black Gull. After a few minutes wait, a ratty, nervous man comes in, looking rather out of place in the rough joint. Dru walks up directly behind him and says, "Enzo." Turning, the man spots the targets of the botched assassination he engineered, and bolts. Or...tries to. Dru grabs him while Di'Fier blocks the door, and Enzo begins to weep. They drag him off for some questioning.

Amazingly enough, said questioning does not involve rubber hoses or socks full of oranges. Then again, Enzo is a wuss - they really don't need it. He tells them that he was ordered to set up the assassination by "the Master", who is leader of "the Brotherhood".

"You have angered the master!" Enzo tells them. "You have earned your death."

"The Master can go f- himself," Dru growls. Then she asks, "How did we anger the Master?"

"I don't know."

"You just blindly follow his orders then?"

"Y-yes..."

After a few more pointed questions, Enzo reveals that the Brotherhood meets in a bricked-up house in the Eastern District - he's been asked to take food there several times recently, which is unusual. Enzo is put into protective custody at the jail.

Next: A whole lotta butt-whomping goodness, and Di'Fier's player throws his 20-sided die into the woods.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Two, Part Two - Snakes...why did it have to be snakes?*

Dru and Di'Fier head to the house - it's a ramshackle place with the windows bricked up. The lock on the door is of suspiciously high quality for such a run-down house, though, and it easily defeats Dru's fumbling attempts with a lockpick. 

She and Di'Fier both bounce off of it separately, trying to knock it open, and apparently trusting their guard badges to make people mind their own damn business. Only by working together does the duo manage to knock the door in to find...

...a trashed, crummy house. What a hole! They can't believe that any self-respecting mysterious brotherhood would meet in a place like this. On the other hand, there is a trapdoor in the back. Opening it reveals a staircase down to a wine cellar, where nine enormous casks of wine line the walls. Some have liquid, others are hollow, and Dru discerns a secret catch along the side of one.

(Remember that bell and the silver wire? Well if you've scoured your *Player's Handbook* you know that they're the material components for the _Alarm_ spell. Dru and Di'Fier didn't, and they didn't realize that the spell had been placed on the secret entrance...)

"I hate going underground," Dru sighs.
"It could be worse. it could be the sewers."
"...thank you, Di'Fier."

Meanwhile, back at the inn, Tas shows up and begins waiting for Dru and Di'Fier.

Anyway, it's into the secret passage, down deeper below Freeport, and the corridor turns a corner to reveal that they are at the base of a 'T' intersection. There's a door right across from them, in the middle of the crossbar of the "T", and Dru heads for it...then suddenly vanishes! There's a thump and plenty of cursing, and Di'Fier approaches the pit more cautiously. 

He lays down on the ground, and extends the scabbard of his bastard sword down to reach Dru. From her vantage point, she gets a great view of the creature looming behind her partner, and she shouts a warning. Di'Fier manages to roll to the side just quickly enough to avoid the spear thrust!

The creature is man-tall, but it is no man. It's covered in scales, with a serpentine head and a narrow tail lashing in the dust behind it. It raises its spear for another strike, and this time Di'Fier is not fast enough - it clips him. Di'Fier rolls to his feet and swings wildly at the creature, but the glancing blow is deflected by the thing's scales...and now he can see that it is not alone. Four more are emerging from a secret door in the wall behind it. Fortunately, they all miss the guardsman. Dru drinks her potion of _spider climb_ and heads up the wall to get in a better sniping position.

Again the serpent-men attack Di'Fier, and again only the first one is able to hit him. Di'Fier tries to cast a _mage armor_ spell as he ducks and weaves, but his dodging causes the spell to go awry, and his primary protection is gone. Maybe he'll learn to cast it _before_ a fight next time...

Again the first serpentman's spear strikes Di'Fier, and he's looking pretty ragged. He spins and tries to leap across the pit. Unfortunately, he falls far short of the far side, and lands with a thump. Still, he's away from the enemy (for now), so he's able to pull out a potion of _cure light wounds_ and heal himself for a bit. One of the serpentmen tries to follow him into the pit, but it lands even more poorly than Di'Fier did, and winds up breaking its neck. Two of its comrades run around the edges of the pit to go after Dru, and the last just chucks its spear at Di'Fier, missing. Dru responds by running along the ceiling to hang above the pit, where the serpentmen can't get her, and then picks another off with her bow.

The first serpentman proves that his good luck only seems to extend to melee combat, as his spear misses Di'Fier. Di'Fier pulls out his trusty _wand of magic missiles_ and sends an energy bolt into one of the creatures, blasting a smoking hole in its chest. Another of the serpentmen goes into the pit after Di'Fier, this time climbing down, and then lunging forward to bite the guardsman. He fails his save and begins to hallucinate just a bit as his Wisdom is drained. Dru's shot goes awry.

The first snakeman picks up a fallen spear and lobs it at Dru, but she easily dodges. Di'Fier takes a swing with his sword and misses, the serpentman bites him again, and _again_ he fails his save.

It is at this point that Di'Fier's player (hi John) got fed up with his d20. He walked over to the front door, opened it, stepped out on the porch, and lobbed it into the darkness. It's still out there somewhere. Poor little die, alone and cold...

Anyway, Dru puts the spear-lobbing serpentman out of commission, and a moment later, Di'Fier actually connects with his opponent, sending it to the ground as well. Dru climbs down and offers her partner some antitoxin, which he drinks...and promptly misses a Fort save of DC 12...with a +9 bonus. I thought my die was going to follow his!

At least he was lucky in the damage rolls. All told, he only lost 3 points of temporary Wisdom from that debacle. For the rest of the adventure, though, he was constantly seeing..._things_ on the edge of his vision...crawling or swimming there...Dru mistakes this for simple alertness, and after helping him out of the pit, the pair proceeds down the secret tunnel.

Another secret door is found in the right-hand side of the tunnel. Opening it reveals a purple curtain, which Di'Fier pushes aside with his sword. It reveals a room with 4 large chests and a number of skeletons. They decide to leave it alone, and close the door.

Meanwhile, Tas still waits for Dru and Di'Fier, back at the inn.

Farther down, the corridor opens up into a cave, with a black subterranean lake lapping at one end of it. Refuse and bones are scattered about, and Dru once again finds a secret door. This one is considerably more interesting. It looks on a pillared temple, and standing there are two acolytes...and Milos!

"The degenerates haven't reported back yet," Milos says. "Go see what's happening." One of the acolytes heads out of the room.

Reasoning that there's no time like the present, they prepare an assault. Dru takes aim with her bow as Di'Fier readies his wand, and as one they loose their missiles. Dru's takes Milos in the gut (hooray sneak attack), while Di'Fier's wand seems to be losing its kick as it merely scorches the acolyte lightly. Combat begins in earnest.

Di'Fier launches another missile - this time at Milos - to slightly greater effect, but the acolyte has spotted where the barrage is coming from now, and he fires his crossbow - a miss - while shouting for the other acolyte. Dru looses another arrow at the stunned Milos, and it too sinks deep into his flesh. He's still up, which surprises our heroes. Milos screeches out some words in a language that neither watchman recognizes, and the arrows are forced out of his flesh to clatter on the floor as the wounds heal.

Di'Fier sends a third bolt of energy at Milos, while dodging crossbow fire from the acolyte. His partner bursts back through the door, looking about wildly. Dru's luck with the bow runs out now that she's not making sneak attacks, and she misses. 

Milos spits another incantation, and Dru feels her limbs start to freeze - but she fights off the spell thanks to her elven blood.

Di'Fier abandons the _magic missile_-ing and charges Milos with his sword, slashing the man. The acolyte abandons his crossbow and pulls a mace, rattling Di'Fier with a blow to the shoulder. The other attendant shoots at Dru, but misses...as does Dru's return shot. Milos attempts to _cause fear_ on Di'Fier, but the combat raging around him distracts the man, and the spell dissipates harmlessly.

Di'Fier's next blow slices only empty air, and the acolyte shouts out: "In the name of the Unspeakable One!" Some force seems to guide his hand and lend power to his arm, because the mace smashes into Di'Fier with great force, staggering the guardsman. The other acolyte fires again at Dru, and misses. Dru drops her bow and draws her sword as she tumbles past the combat, coming up behind Milos to slash his kidneys deeply. Milos turns, and calls on the Unspeakable One...and the blow he deals is far more severe than that of a mere acolyte.

Di'Fier adopts a different stance, trading accuracy for defense. Somehow this translates into an ability to actually hit what he is aiming at, and Milos takes another swordblow. The first acolyte's mace is parried, and the second smashes bodily into Dru, knocking her back and away from her flanking position on Milos. Dru doesn't even manage to land a blow on him. Milos begs the Unspeakable One to lay a _doom_ on Di'Fier, but the guardsman resists.

Resists? You wouldn't know it, though, the way his next strike went awry. Still, his defense keeps the acolyte from braining him with a mace, and the other acolyte has no better luck in slipping past Dru's defense. On the other hand, Dru's strike skitters off of the acolyte's scale mail. Milos concentrates, and his form swells as he takes on the semblance of a massive ogre.

Di'Fier moves _away_ from the nice big ogre, putting the acolyte between him and it, and even manages to land a blow on the cleric in training - which is better than his opponent can say. In fact, it's better than anyone else can say, as everyone else misses (including Milos the Ogre, who reaches over his acolyte to try to stab Di'Fier).

Now that he's realized the ogre's reach, Di'Fier gets nervous. He dodges and incants, and casts his _disappear_ spell. This spell makes you invisible...for 2 rounds. After casting he gets the heck out of the way, lining up for a desperate charge at the Milos-ogre. Meanwhile, the acolyte swings through empty air where Di'Fier was before he vanished, the other acolyte misses Dru, and Dru chugs a healing potion, nimbly evading the attacks of both Milos and acolyte. Until Milos takes a second try, and whacks her a good one with his spear, that is.

Suddenly, Milos staggers, and Di'Fier fades back into visibility with his sword impaled through the ogre-cleric-whatever. As the ex-Milos slumps off of his blade, the shape changes...but not back into Milos. No, the shape the corpse assumes is altogether more serpentine than that. Di'Fier stares a bit too long, and one of the acolytes smacks him upside the head, sending him bleeding into unconsciousness. Dru runs him through just a moment too late.

Still, Dru makes short work of the one remaining acolyte, and pours a healing potion down Di'Fier's throat, bringing him coughing and spluttering back to the land of the living. They grab Milos' corpse and stagger back into the secret passage, heading for the stairs out.

In the inn, Tas tries to get the bartender to put his drinks on Dru and Di'Fier's tab.

Later, at the Temple of Knowledge, Dru dumps the serpentine corpse in front of poor Norton, and demands to see the high priest.

"He-he's not in," stammers Norton.

"Well, who's in charge?" snaps Dru.

Di'Fier has a stroke of inspiration. "Is Milos here?"

"No..."

"Think again," mutters Dru, kicking the corpse.

Just then Egil shows up. "What's happened?" he asks. They explain what they found, and he's distraught. "You didn't find Lucius? He _must_ be there, we've got to go back, he may still be in danger!" He heals the pair before they return to the underground temple, though.

This time they explore some of the other doors. One leads to an octagonal room with a circular depression, and a table containing candelabras, incense, and a gong. They leave it alone.

The next is the skeleton room they saw earlier...only this time, the skeletons come after the trio. A skeleton claws at Di'Fier, who opened the door, but misses. Di'Fier slams the door in its face, and backs away. A second skeleton opens the door again, just in time to be doused with holy water by Dru. More begin to crowd out, one missing Dru, and then Egil fumbles his holy symbol into the light and cries out, "*In the name of Kherarditinos, return to your graves!*" The wave of holy energy that sweeps over the skeletons blasts them to blackened bits of bone. Egil looks stunned. "I've never done that before..." he says.

"Have you considered joining the guard?" Dru asks dryly.

They drag the chests out into the open and explore one more door - a library, it seems, which is the perfect place to confine a librarian. And indeed, Lucius is there. After freeing him and his tearful reunion with Egil, the foursome heads to the surface dragging the chests of treasure. Di'Fier's raven is sent to fetch his father and a wagon, and they have a seat on the treasure chests to talk.

Lucius, apparently, was possessed by a creature from another plane. While that creature was in his body, Lucius wandered its home plane - the source of his bizarre dreams. Milos found out about the situation, and wanted to wring whatever secrets of the planes he could from the librarian, but his memories were faded and blurred. Even torture did not sharpen them, and if the guardsmen hadn't found him when they did, Milos would surely have killed Lucius out of sheer frustration.

But Di'Fier has an even more important question: 

"Did you ever get the turnips?"

The answer, sadly, was "no."


----------



## drnuncheon

*Death in Freeport wrap-up notes*

Our intrepid duo got quite the haul from sacking the temple: 500 gold and 9200 silver, which they donated a third of to the Temple of Kherarditinos. There were also some gems, jewelry...and magic items.

Dru picked a magic buckler that they found in one of the chests. It's +1, and has some further protective power that she has yet to discover. Di'Fier took the _ring of protection +2_ that Milos wore. They also found a _+1 halfspear_ but decided to sell it and split the cash between them.

Their future plans include: interrogate the corpse (hopefully high priest Thuron will oblige them with a speak with dead spell), and do some more investigation.

"After all," says Dru, "Milos could still be afoot."

"Yes," replies Di'Fier. "But more likely he's a snake."

The total XP gained for this little outing was also just enough to bounce them both into 4th level, the results of which (as previously noted) I have put into the Rogues Gallery thread.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Three, Part One: Dangerous Enemies*

A few days later.  Dru and Di'Fier meet for breakfast, as usual.

"I'm starting to get suspicious," Dru comments. "This is the 4th night in a row that nobody's tried to kill me."

The duo head to the Temple of Knowledge, where they hope to discuss the temple's snake problem (ha ha) with the high priet, Thuron.  When they arrive, their best friend Norton is at the desk.  He takes them to a waiting room, where eventually the high priest shows up, leaning heavily on his cane.

Thuron is _not_ happy about this interruption.  "What is the meaning of this foolishness? You guardsmen come charging into my temple with wild accusations about my assistant being some form of, of _snake_-man, dropping corpses in the hall, and interrupting my consultations with the Sea Lord regarding the unveiling of the lighthouse!" He scowls at the guardsmen.

"We'd like you to speak with the corpse that we brought back," says Di'Fier. "That will prove that it was Milos."

"The corpse? The corpse has been disposed of," says Thuron.

"What?" shouts Dru. "You got rid of it? That's obstruction of justice!"

Thuron raises an eyebrow. "Obstruction of justice? Is this an official investigation, then?  If so, then I'm certain you have a warrant..."

Dru and Di'Fier look at each other.  They'd pursued this case in their spare time - they have no warrant. 

Thuron's expression tells them that he knew darn well that was the case. "I have no further time for this nonsense. Show yourselves out." With that, he leaves.  

Dru and Di'Fier ponder trying to arrest him for a moment but decide against it.  Instead, they decide to have some people keep an eye on Lucius' house, and Dru wants to investigate whether the Temple of Knowledge has any enemies.

As they discuss what's going on, wandering through the Merchant's Quarter, something in an alley catches their eye - a slumped-over man.  That's not at all unusual, but a slumped-over man with a guard badge is.  Hurrying over, they find that it is Tas.  He's been beaten to death.

Dru's keen eyes turn up a crumpled piece of paper nearby, as if it had been dropped in the scuffle and missed or left behind when the attackers left.  On it, in what looks like Tas' messy scrawl, is a list of names:

Jebeddo Duvamil
Torim Daneslav
Weggit of Highgate
Traubon Lutgehr
Amarylis Greenbottle
Ielenia Amastecia
They puzzle over the list for a moment - a wide variety of names, and none of them seem familiar except the first.  Jebeddo Duvamil, Di'Fier seems to recall, was the gnomish jeweler who went insane, killed his family, and stabbed Kiva, Tas' partner.

They carry poor Tas' body back to the Guard headquarters (drawing much attention the whole way) and answer all the questions about how they found him, etc.  Di'Fier mentions the list they found, but claims that he doesn't have it right now. He gets chewed out for not having the evidence, and makes a mental note to copy down the names at the first opportunity.

That done, they do some research on the other names, finding out about two.  Traubon was a dwarven smith who went berserk and had to be taken down by the guard. Greenbottle is a halfling brewer.

After that, they head to the guardsman's tavern to get some more information.  (Every city has one - the place where the off-duty cops hang out when they don't want to be disturbed.  Anyone dumb enough to pick a fight here is quickly taught the error of their ways.)  Dru spots Fliege, who has the same beat Kiva and Tas do, but on a different shift.  They trade complaints about the job and she asks kin about the names.  Fliege mentions that Tas was asking the same questions, and he worked with Spruce on the list.

(Spruce works in the Records department.  He'd desperately like to be a 'real' guard, but his health, poor eyesight, and a variety of other factors keep him at a desk job.)

The pair donate a few gold coins to the collection for poor Tas' funeral, and head back to HQ to talk to Spruce.  Di'Fier drops off the list (which he has copied) as evidence, and they head back to the records room.

Spruce remembers the list well - he fills them in on some of the details of the case.

Greenbottle went wild inthe middle of brewing a batch of ale, attacking and overturning the casks. She nearly drowned in the ale, and is currently in a sanitarium.
Daneslav was a cobbler. He killed his family, then himself,  with a leather-cutting knife.
Weggit of Highgate was a merchant staying in the Sea Lord's palace. He leapt to his death from a window.
Amestacia was a tailor. While fitting Captain Xavier Gordon for a suit, she attacked him and he killed her in the course of  defending himself.

Spruce also mentions as they leave that Captain Donnach has heard about the little _tete á tete_ they had with High Priest Thuron, and he is high p-ssed.  Further evidence to support this theory arrives in the person of Capt. Donnach himself, who chews out Dru and Di'Fier for ticking off the High Priest, and then suspends them for a week.  "And keep away from the Temple, you understand?" They go out and celebrate with dinner and beer.  They are, however, careful to avoid Greenbottle beer.

On the way home from dinner, Di'Fier gets the idea that maybe they should stop by Kiva's house - maybe Tas was keeping him up to date on the investigations.  As they approach the house, though, they can hear shouting from inside, and they see that the door is swinging from one hinge.  Drawing their swords, they burst through the door to see four thugs chopping at an inside door with axes.  In the corner is a woman, messily killed.

Dru and Di'Fier raise their swords.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Three, Part Two: The Craftsmen's Secret*

Dru is the first to react, and seeing as how these miscreants have broken into the home of a fellow guardsman and killed his wife, she sees no need for niceties such as mercy or asking them to surrender. (Besides, they're suspended, they can't arrest the thugs, right?)  Her blade lashes out and draws blood from one of the thugs, who tries to return the blow with his axe, but misses.  Di'Fier is not as accurate as his partner (looks like the new die isn't being any nicer than the old one) - not only does he miss, but two axes slam into him, biting deep into his flesh.  The last thug lands a blow on Dru as well.  From behind the door, they hear a weak voice call out, "Ellen?"

The pain and shock of the wound makes Dru's next thrust go wild, but her opponent doesn't do any better. Di'Fier parries wildly but one of the thugs still manages to land a solid blow to his midsection. Only his armor protects him from a long, painful death.

The thugs and guards trade blows for a few moments, with nobody managing to penetrate the others' defenses.  The thugs are quite confident - they've got the guardsmen outnumbered and one of them is almost down from his wounds.  There's some shuffling from behind the door.

That's when Dru begins to turn the tide. The man she wounded slips on the blood pooling on the floor, and her blade takes him in the throat. Three to two now, and the thugs can't seem to get past her and Di'Fier's defense.

Again Dru strikes, and puts another thug bleeding on the floor. The odds are even now, and the thugs begin to worry...especially since these two are between them and the door.  As she pulls her blade free, however, an axe blow bites deep into her arm.  Di'Fier parries the last thug's axe, but can't connect with his counter either.

The elven guard is definitely one to take things personally.  She claps her hand to the wound in her arm, grits her teeth, and thrusts forward, taking the thug who wounded her full in the chest and dropping him. Meanwhile, Di'Fier abandons his dodging and parrying, stepping forward to cleave the last thug nearly in two.

The door flings open, and Kiva manages not to shoot either of the guardsmen with the loaded crossbow he's finally gotten ready.  The wounded guard looks like hell - the wound is cured but the infection is still going on.  Dru decides to hit him with _all_ the bad news at once, and tells him about Tas while he's still trying to cope with his wife's death. (Sensitivity training is not part of the Freeport Watch new hire program.)

The thugs have some gold on them - looks like they were hired for this.  Dru and Di'Fier decide that Kiva isn't safe here, and carry him back to Dru's apartment, then limp off to get a priest and find someone to take care of Ellen's body.

(Digression: the temple that Dru and Di'Fier usually go to for their potions and healing need is the Temple of the Merchant God.  Who better to sell healing?  In this case, they forked out for some cure spells and a _remove disease_ for Kiva.  A good thing, because he'd have lasted a couple more days at most...)

While talking with Kiva to try to retrace Tas' steps, he mentions that Greenbottle had been brewing some mighty fine beer recently.  Our heros speculate that the beer might be the cause of the insanity that seems to be running through the city streets, as they head back to Kiva's place to look for clues.  Di'Fier's raven stays behind to watch the wounded guard.

While searching Kiva's house, Dru and Di'Fier are accosted by Kliege and Davos, who are the guards actually assigned to work on this case. Fortunately, nobody winds up shooting anyone else, but it's clear that Dru and Di'Fier, being suspended, aren't really welcome at the crime scene.  They head back to Dru's place, where she (mostly unsuccessfully) tries to cheer Kiva up by showing him all the holes in her bookshelf.


*Suspended: Day Two*

Breakfast.  The innkeeper gives Dru a wink when she realizes that Dru spent the night with two men in her room.  She and Di'Fier carry the food upstairs and eat with Kiva, who still isn't well enough to get out of bed.  After that, they head to the sanitarium, to see what they can find out about Amarylis Greenbottle.  Even when they're suspended, they're investigating things!  They find out that visiting hours are for relatives only, and decide that they probably would not be able to pass for halflings, even on a dark foggy night with a blind guard, so they decide to take a different tack: they go to get drunk.

On the way, Dru catches a flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye, and then her arm is dragged upwards.  There's a ring of metal on metal as the buckler she wears connects with the dagger that's been thrown at her, knocking it off course to arc high into the air and then land at her feet.  Weapons are drawn, but there's no sign of an attacker...and no followup attack.

They grab the knife and head to the cop bar, discussing the implications of the attack.  Was it _improved invisibility_? Or something else?  The knife's blade has been carefully coated with lampblack so it does not reflect - a killer's trick - but why only one dagger?

At the bar, someone buys them drinks because he won the "Dru and Di'Fier Suspension Pool", and they chat about the case that they are definitely not investigating - nope, no way, no sir, no investigating while we're suspended, nope.  It comes out that the elven tailor's job for Captain Gordon was the biggest assignment she'd taken on in months.

The rest of the afternoon is passed in small talk.  Dru: "Did you hear that someone tried to kill me this afternoon?" Guard: "So what else is new?"  They make sure that the ale they order _isn't_ Greenbottle, but the bartender mentions that Greenbottle's been brewing some damn fine ale lately.  Di'Fier also passes a message on to Spruce, asking him to meet them for dinner at the Black Rose tomorrow night.


*Suspension: Day 3*

Breakfast again, and Dru still hasn't managed to convey to her landlady that just because there are two men staying in her room, that doesn't mean that anything prurient is going on.

The pair leave Kiva to his misery and head out to investigate.  Stopping by Lutgehr's smithy reveals that son Ulfgar has taken over, and he has no room for new customers.  Daneslav's place is completely closed (since he killed his entire family.)  They discuss the possibility that the name Weggit of Highgate is a red herring, since he didn't go berserk - he just screamed and jumped out a window.

Their steps take them near the Greenbottle brewery, and they stop in at the attached pub, which falls completely silent at their entrance.  They have to duck to fit inside, and it's filled with halflings (and a few gnomes). They have a pint.  The glasses are green. The beer is damn fine.

Sensing no homicidal impulses (at least, no more than usual), Dru dryly comments, "We're not going to get anywhere until someone tries to kill us."  Sadly (?), her words do not bring about an assassination attempt, and they head out.

"I wonder why they didn't go to the big pub around the corner," one halfling wonders to his companion.

One place left to check - the tailor's.  Dru is greeted by an incredibly old elf, and pretends to be asking about a cloak, but the seamstress is not fooled - she recognizes Dru as both a Naïlo and a guardsman.  She shows Dru an outfit "meant to grace a member of the Captain's Council", but it is unfinished.

Ielinia, her daughter, had worked on the outfit day and night, but Captain Gordon was unsatisfied with the progress - he wanted it for a ball in a few night's time.  She and Dru have a very careful conversation in which Dru does not ask questions - because she is off duty and suspended, after all.  Apparently the Captain was pressuring her for greater speed when she went berserk.

They go back and fill Kiva in over lunch, and he dredges up a bit of information for them: the jeweler was working on a reliquary for the Temple of the Merchant God.  They hang out with Kiva until it's time to meet Spruce at the Black Rose.

Dru attempts to look non-threatening all through dinner but fails.  Spruce has the information they wanted - when each of the incidents occurred.  In order, it was Greenbottle the brewer (about a month ago), Daneslav the cobbler (a few days later), Amestecia the tailor (about 3 weeks ago), Lutgehr the smith (2 weeks ago), Jebeddo the jeweler (about a week ago), and Weggit of Highgate (4 days ago).  They also get the names of the officers investigating each of the cases.

Dru tells the story of the assassination attempt, and Spruce mentions tales of a dagger that tried to kill people on its own.  They don't worry about the possibility, since the blade hasn't tried anything after the first attack.

At a loss, the two wander around trying to attract assassination attempts, with no luck.  They ponder harassing Captain Scarbelly (who is oddly still in port) but decide to sleep on it instead.

In Our Next Exciting Episode: "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now." Plus, someone (finally) tries to kill Dru and Di'Fier again, so they know they're on the right track.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Three, Part Three: Breathing Problems*

Breakfast, once again.  Di'Fier's raven wings its way to the Guard's Records division to get the results of Spruce's research.  Meanwhile, Dru asks around about the mysterious death of Weggit of Highgate.  It appears that the man acts as Sea Lord Drac's factor on the mainland, taking care of his interests there.  Hmmm.

A little more detective work turns up the fact that Daneslav the cobbler was supposedly working on an enormous project for a foreign potentate - matching slippers for his harem, individually decorated to reflect each wife's status.  Why would the king go to a cobbler in Freeport, though?

Di'Fier struggles to make a connection. "It seems like a bunch of people got big contracts and it drove them mad..."  As he walks and discusses the matter with Dru, but she is distracted by a man who turns and runs as soon as he spots them.  

_If he's running, he must be guilty,_ the elven guard reasons, and takes off after him, leaving Di'Fier looking around blankly until he realizes what's going on.  Dru cuts down an alley for a shortcut, while Di'Fier follows the man, and they surround him.  Dru makes short work of him with her sap, and they drag him into an alley.  He looks familiar - one of the people she saw unloading the wagon full of _kantha_ leaves a few weeks ago.

She wakes him up - none too gently, and leaning over she asks, "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"I...I'm sorry?" the smuggler offers.

"What are you doing here?"

The man is terrified of Dru.  It's a common reaction. "I - I just wanted to buy some shoes!"

She looks to Di'Fier.  They're not on duty, they've been suspended...and this guy is obviously small fry. "All right. What's your name."

"Jemmis..."

"Well, Jemmis, you're going to owe us a favor, because we're going to let you go."  No sense in telling him that they couldn't arrest him anyhow.  "Besides," she observes later to Di'Fier. "He might have useful information someday."  

The pair resume their investigations.  Di'Fier asks around about what Greenbottle was working on, and it turns out that the Greenbottle brewery has a contract with Captain Lydon to provide ale and beer for Swagfest.  Quite the coup...and it fits neatly into place.

They've got no idea what Traubon Lutgehr was working on, but Di'Fier has a hunch that son Ulfgar might try to continue his father's work, and they decide to stake out his place.  Later that night, the back door of the smithy opens and Ulfgar steps out cautiously, peering about to make sure he's not being followed.  He is, but he doesn't notice.

Ulfgar heads into the warehouse district, taking a roundabout route and acting like someone who knows he's supposed to be acting sneaky, but isn't quite sure how to go about it.  Under the eaves of a particularly dilapidated building, he meets with a shadowy figure, and they converse in low tones.  Dru edges closer, and pulls a small vial from her pouch, drinking its contents.  Her eyes close in concentration.

_I just want to get my money and get out of here,_ the shadowy man thinks. _I am never working for that gnome again._

_This is the only chance I have to finish my father's project._ Ulfgar's thoughts also echo in Dru's head. _I know I'm not good enough to do it on my own.  I still have so much to learn! I just have to hope that it doesn't do to me what it did to Father._

There is an exchange between the two men, and Ulfgar moves off, looking vaguely guilty.  Dru and Di'Fier exchange glances, and follow the shadowy man as he hurries down the street.

Behind them, a trio of dark-clad individuals detach themselves from the shadows and begin walking up the street.  Their cloaks billow behind them as they let go and begin to load the hand crossbows that they are carrying.  If there were anyone in the streets of the Warehouse District at this hour, they'd be scattering.

Dru's highly acute elven senses are the only thing that warns them of disaster.  It's hard to say what catches her attention - a stray footfall, a shadow where there should be none - but she shouts a warning to her partner even as she dives out of the way of an oncoming crossbow bolt.  Di'Fier whirls and charges, drawing his blade and slicing one of the assailants across the chest, incidentally ruining his shot.  The rogue curses and drops the crossbow, drawing a short and wicked-looking blade. Meanwhile, the third would-be assassin fires his own bolt past Dru and the startled man they were following.  Even as he sees that he has missed, he begins to reload.  Dru hopes that Di'Fier can hold off the assassins, and pulling her Watch-issue truncheon from her belt she dashes up to the man they were following and lays him out cold.

Meanwhile, the killers surround Di'Fier, who is forced into the defensive - but even that doesn't save him from a nasty wound that bites deep into his side. Just as he's failing to get out of the way of that blade, another takes him in the thigh.  _One of these days I'll learn not to get surrounded_, he thinks.  Dru draws her blade and dodges fire from the crossbow-armed killer, charging back to the fray.  Her target is paying more attention to the guy he's trying to kill, and so he is rather surprised when a foot of steel emerges from his chest - nearly spitting Di'Fier as well!

The heat off of him (so to speak), Di'Fier steps back and decides to put the heat _on_ the killers.  His hand gestures and an arcane word is spoken, the syllable seeming to take shape into a ball of flame that rolls towards another of the assailants, smashing into him and scorching him.  He nearly drops his blade, fumbling his attack on Di'Fier and providing an opening for Dru. Unfortunately, his last-minute dodge turns a lethal wound into a mere scratch.

Di'Fier sets the _flaming sphere_ to rolling after the other thug, and meanwhile grabs and guzzles one of his many potions of _cure light wounds_.  The thug burns merrily.  The last man standing breaks and runs.  Dru swaps her rapier for her sap once again, and brings him crashing to the ground.  He is quickly tied up and the bodies of the others searched.

"These guys were well equipped," says Di'Fier, looking over the collection of potions...and poisons.  "This wasn't a random occurence."  This is given further credence by their captive biting down on a poison pill.  Fortunately, Dru is quick with an antitoxin, and the would-be assassin survives.  He won't talk, though, so they knock him out again.

Di'Fier turns back to the other captive - the shadowy man who sold something to Ulfgar.  Unlike the killer, he cracks instantly. 

"Who else have you delivered to?"

"Ah..ah...Brushgather the glassblower...this was gonna be the last time, I swear," he says. "I seen what it did to them other guys."

"Why are you doing it then?" Dru asks.

"The gnome, he makes a potion so's I can breathe better."

"How do you get in touch with him?"

"There's a drop in Scurvytown.  I make it tomorrow night."

After getting the instructions for the drop (and getting the money that Ulfgar paid him), they let him go.  That's two people in one night - are they losing their touch?

After he vanishes, they turn back to their other prisoner, only to find his throat slit.  Drawn in blood on the wall behind him is the sigil of Tensin Naïlo...Dru's father.

NEXT: Ulfgar, a bar brawl, and the gnome.


----------



## drnuncheon

Tell me how to make the Story Hour better! 

Head here and vote in my poll.  Thanks for reading!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Four, Part One: Barroom Blitz!*

*Day 4 of Suspension (cont)*

Dru and Di'Fier look at each other over the corpse of their former prisoner.  Without a word, they turn and begin running back down the street, chasing Ulfgar.  They've got their next clue in where to find the gnome, and now they've got to stop anyone else from drinking the potion.

The sergeants arrive to find the door to Ulfgar's forge securely barred - and the back door as well.  Heading around to the front, they hammer on the door for a while - no response.  Again, louder.  Eventually, they hear the sound of the bar being lifted, and Ulfgar opens the door a crack, peering out suspiciously at them over his forge-scorched beard. "What do you want?"

Dru sticks her foot in the door. "I wouldn't drink that potion if I were you," she says laconically.

"What do you know about it?" the dwarf challenges.

"The man who sold you that potion killed a friend of ours," says Di'Fier. "And your father."  He begins to recite the list of the dead, along with the circumstances of their death.  With each name, the dwarf's face falls, until the last trace of his defiance is gone, replaced only by sad resignation.  He steps back from the door and lets them in.

Dru and Di'Fier quiz him about the potion.  It turns out that his father had taken it several times during the course of the project, each time returning to work with greater fervor and skill. Still, he comes to the realization that his father's fate is not one he wants to share, and he turns over the potion to the guardsmen.

          *          *          *          *          *

On their way back from Ulfgar's, Di'Fier hears the sound of cursing from an alley - then the sound of a blow striking flesh and a pitiful whimper.  He signals to Dru, and they stealthily creep down the alley to see what is happening.  They see a short, greasy-looking man pummeling a young girl. "Stupid b*tch!" he yells.

"...b*tch..." she whimpers.

A stray sound attracts the man's attention, and he pauses in his punching.  "Who's there?"

"...there..."

Angrily, he shoves the girl away from him. "Get the hell back home," he tells her with a snarl, still looking for the source of the noise.

"...home..." she repeats, taking a few steps away and then crouching down into a huddle.

Dru's seen enough, and steps out of the shadows with her blade drawn. "It isn't nice to beat people," she observes.  The man takes one look at her blade, swallows heavily, and bolts.  Dru gives chase, but he loses her in an unfamiliar set of alleyways.  She heads back to where Di'Fier and the girl are.

"Dumbsh*t got away," she says.

"...away..." the girl intones softly.

Di'Fier: "Are you OK?"

"...okay..."

Dru gets a roll from her pouch and hands it to the girl.  She'd been saving it for an on-duty snack, but the poor waif looks like she needs it worse.  The girl snatches it and huddles, nibbling at the bread and watching them distrustfully. Now that they have a chance to inspect her, they can see the bruises on her arms and face.

"Nice guy, your friend." 

Dru's sarcasm is lost on the girl, who simply repeats, "...friend..."

"Do you have a name?" asks Di'Fier.

"...name..."

_Thought so_, the guardsman thinks to himself.

"I'm Dru."  "...dru..."

"Di'Fier." "...fear..."

The two partners step away from the girl and hold a hushed conversation about what to do with the poor thing.  They eventually decide to try to get her to go home.  Either the scumbag will be there (in which case they can indulge in some righteous butt-kicking) or there will hopefully be someone there to take care of her.

Dru asks, as gently as she's capable of, "Do you want to go home?" "...home..."

The girl finishes the bread, climbs to her feet and leads them slowly through the winding streets until they reach the Warehouse District.  Their destination is a particularly dilapidated building that looks about ten minutes and a good shove away from collapse or at least condemnation.

Di'Fier looks at it dubiously. "Can we go in?" 

"...in..."  The girl does indeed go inside, where a group of displaced city residents stare at them from their spot huddled around a fire.  Most of them melt back into the shadows except for a grizzled old man with one leg, who approaches, balancing on crutches.  The girl moves unconcerned to sit in front of the fire.

The one-legged man looks them over for a moment, then finally, grudgingly speaks. "Thank you for bringing Echo back."

"We just wanted to make sure our friend got home," offers Dru.

"Since when do guards care about us?"

"We're on suspension," says Di'Fier.

They ask about the greasy guy, whose name was Tovin.  He's a lowlife scum who's apparently decided that the best way for him to make easy money involves pimping a homeless (and simple) girl to the sailors (presumably the undiscriminating ones.) The pair file this information away, and it looks like Tovin will have a rough time if they ever catch up to him.

          *          *          *          *          *

*Day 5 of Suspension*

What a glorious, sunshiney, cold morning to be suspended on! Dru and Di'Fier meet for breakfast (well, lunch, really - they're staying on their shift time so as not to get out of practice) and then set off to find an alchemist.  One that's not a gnome.  They wind up in the shop of a female dwarf named Artin, who makes them cough up 3 platinum to analyze and identify the potion they got from Ulfgar, then tells them to come back tomorrow.

They've already planned to stake out the drop point in Scurvytown, but that's not until 7 pm.  To while away the time until then, Dru succumbs to some do-gooder impulses and drags Di'Fier around, buying bedrolls which they then deposit inside the warehouse that the beggars were using for shelter.

After that, they wander around the docks out of habit.  The _Bloody Vengeance_ seems to have finally set sail, and they find no sign of Tovin.  Finally it's time for lunch (or dinner), and they head to the Broken Mug (fights every hour, on the hour.)  The dish of the day is the appetizingly named 'meat skewers', and they are asked if they want them 'with or without plants'.  Both choose 'without'.

While they chew, the top of the hour rolls around, and sure enough, a brawl begins.  "Hey! I got that same card in _my_ hand!" shouts one man, throwing a drunken punch at his card-playing companion.  Mugs, fists, and chairs begin to fly as the bartender begins putting the few breakables back behind the bar.  The guardsmen stay out of it at first, although Dru hops up on her table to get a better view.  Then, as Di'Fier leans back to avoid it, someone is hurled into the table.  Dru keeps her balance easily, but the guy is apparently offended that there was a table in his way, and he flips it.  Dru tumbles off the table, coming up behind the guy, and slugs him a good one in the back of the head. Di'Fier finishes his drink and swings his leg off of the chair, smacking the guy in the side of the face, and Dru finishes him off. They wander away from the fight, but as Dru steps into the door, a body flies _into_ the tavern - which is decidedly odd, as normally in bar fights people fly _out_ of them.

That's when Dru realizes that the guy who just ran into her is dead.

Next: Mysterious corpses, mad gnomes, and Dru's secret admirer.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Four, Part Two: "...Rosebud..."*

*Day 5 of Suspension (cont)*

Dru drops the dead guy, and Di'Fier is instantly at the window.  He catches a glimpse of a shape moving back into the shadows of the building opposite, and then it is gone.  Not obscured, not hiding...gone.  Di'Fier heads out into the street to make sure.  No sign...and nowhere the guy could have gone.

As the bar quiets down, Dru kicks the dead guy over and starts searching him for clues.  He's obviously been dead for a couple of days, but she doesn't recognize him.  When Di'Fier returns, though, he notices that the guy has two throwing knives but three sheathes.  They compare with the one that was thrown at Dru a few days ago...it's a match.  Di'Fier also notices that the corpse's hand is curved around something.  When he pries it out, it turns out to be...a rosebud.  Both watchmen rack their brains for someone or some group that uses a rose as a calling card, but come up blank.  Di'Fier says, "He was probably punished for not killing you."

The guardsmen drag the corpse out to a convenient alley so it's not disrupting business and then go along their way. They feel no real impetus to report the incident - after all, they're suspended. Just ordinary citizens now, and ordinary citizens _never_ go to the Watch with their problems.  Instead they head to Scurvytown, to check out this drop site.

The statue (the only one in Scurvytown) was donated by citizens of a city on the mainland, that Freeport has a particular rivalry with.  That may explain why it was placed where it was...the statue is of a horse laying on the ground, a naked heroic figure standing above it with cudgel upraised.  The meaning (if any) has been long forgotten.

The Watchmen sense that they're making the locals nervous, so Dru sticks a couple of copper pieces in the drop spot (behind where a hoof curls around) and give Di'Fier's raven strict instructions to watch the statue.  Then they settle back to wait.

A few minutes before 7, Di'Fier is troubled by an urge, so he heads around back of the shack they're holed up in.  Just as he's finishing his business, Dru spots a shape heading towards the statue, and he sense excitement from his bird. Dru, ruthless sort that she is, nocks an arrow and sights in.  After all, Di'Fier's not here to stop her...as the gnome looks puzzled down at the 3 cp in his hand, she lets fly, then heads into the street with sap drawn.

Di'Fier charges around the corner to the sound of a startled squawk from the wounded gnome, and bellows "Freeze!"  Good thing he got his trousers up, otherwise nobody would have listened.

The gnome looks from Dru to Di'Fier and says, "I surrender."  How anticlimactic.

"Sit down, drug dealer," says Di'Fier, gesturing with his sword.  The gnome does, and Dru ties his hands behind his back.  "We've been following you."

"Yes?" The gnome asks pleasantly.

"We know about the potions," adds Dru.

"Yes, I've almost got it figured out." The gnome grins at the two of them like that explains everything.

Di'Fier: "How not to kill people?"

"Exactly! I'm so close to figuring out why it's going wrong."

Dru: "If you knew it was flawed, why sell it?"

The gnome looks honestly puzzled. "How else was I going to test it?"  He sighs.

Dru growls, and fingers her knife.  "I think we should take him to the dwarf."

The gnome looks shocked - not the sort of shocked you get when someone is fingering a knife and threatening to kill you, but the kind of shocked you get when someone uses their lobster fork to reach across your plate and spear a bun.  "You have to take me in to be arrested," he says.

"Oh, we can't do that," mutters Dru, dryly.

Di'Fier frowns. "Why do you want to be arrested?"

"Because that's how it _works_." The gnome's voice is patient, like he is explaining something to a small child - or perhaps as if he is a small child explaining something with the kind of earnestness that small children have when they believe it with their entire being. "_You_ arrest _me_, _I_ post bail, and then I go back to my work."

Dru smirks. "We've been suspended."  With that she picks up the trussed gnome and slings him over her shoulder, heading towards the merchant's district.  Di'Fier follows.

"Oh, _I_ understand!" the gnome bubbles cheerfully. "How about I just pay _you_ gentlefolk the bail?  I've got some fascinating potions..." He looks hopefully from one to the other.  "...no?"

Dru and Di'Fier exchange glances as the gnome continues on. "You see, I've been doing research into low-cost alternative ingredients for potions.  If my experiments are successful I could more than halve the cost to create them.  Think of the benefits!"

"All right." Dru sets the gnome down on his own legs. "Take us to your shop."  The gnome keeps merrily babbling away about his research, discussing it in terms that go completely over Dru's head, and that Di'Fier's limited knowledge of alchemy let him catch about every fifth word of.

As they reach the gnome's shop, Dru moves to knock the gnome unconscious...but the gnome breaks away, shedding the ropes, and dashes into the lab! The guardsmen pull their truncheons and go in after him.  Charging into the lab, Dru runs right into the path of a flying tanglefoot bag, and gooey tendrils wrap around her and affix her firmly to the floor.

Dru doesn't like it when her own tactics are used against her. She struggles to pull out one of the throwing knives that she took from the corpse, and flicks it at the gnome, drawing a bit of blood. Di'Fier charges in, but the gnome nimbly dodges his blow.

Hopping back, the gnome utters an arcane word, and Di'Fier feels his body betray him - his muscles and joints lock in position, the victim of a _hold person_ spell.  Dru flicks the second knife, sinking it into the gnome as well.  The alchemist looks a bit ragged.  Di'Fier struggles uselessly against the spell that holds him.

The gnome dashes over to his bench, grabbing up a stack of papers and notes, and then runs for the back door.  Dru sends the last throwing knife at him, and draws blood.  The gnome stumbles, but keeps running into the night.

Dru begins slicing the tanglefoot from her with a dagger, and eventually Di'Fier can move again, but their quarry is long gone.  Since there's no sign of him, they decide to loot the place, scoring quite a few alchemical items and a box of potions that neither of them are brave enough to want to try without another alchemist looking them over first.

The pair stops at Di'Fier's place and makes broadsheets to post across the city: 
*Beware! Mad gnomish alchemist seeks experimental subjects!*
Below that, some details of the experiments and the effects they have.  If they can't catch him, they can hopefully at least stop anyone else from falling for his tricks.  While they make the posters, they discuss the attacks on Kiva and Tas.  "He tried so hard not to kill us," says Di'Fier. "It couldn't have been him.  I'll bet it has something to do with that other name...Weggit of Highgate."

Exhausted, Di'Fier drops off to sleep.  Dru uses the next few hours to distribute the signs around the city, and then heads back to her place to check on Kiva and get some trance.  When she enters her room, Kiva is sound asleep...

...and lying on the table is a rose.

Next Time: Dru and Di'Fier run an errand for Di'Fier's mother.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Interlude*

The gnome can feel the blood trickling down his back and his arms as he runs through the streets of Scurvytown, turning his shirt and coat into a sodden red mass.  His lungs burn and his legs ache from running, but his head feels oddly light.  _It doesn't matter,_ he thinks. _I've got my notes...and I'm so close to a breakthrough!  Surely I'll find some way to test my theories..._

He turns down an alley. _They can't have followed me,_ he thinks. _I'll be safe down here.  I'll get passage on a ship to the mainland..._ The tiny alchemist leans up against the decrepit wooden wall of the shack, letting the blood trickle down the wood. _I'll just rest here first...for a little bit._  He closes his eyes, just for a moment, and doesn't see the two figures come around the corner and into the alley.



As any sailor knows, blood in the water will attract every shark for miles around.  In Freeport, the sharks come on two legs, but the effect is much the same.



The taller figure wipes the blade of its wicked knife on the gnome's breeches as the other goes through his pockets.  "Three copper. Not worth it."

"What about the papers?"

"Dunno."

"Thought you could read."

"Not whatever that stuff is.  He seemed to think they were important, though."

"Bring 'em. Might be worth some coin."

The precious notes are roughly folded and shoved inside an unwashed jerkin, and the sharks move off silently into the night, leaving the remnants behind for the rats and gulls.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Five: A Little Errand*

_Just a short, light-hearted adventure courtesy of the WOTC site.  Dru and Di'Fier go on an errand for Di'Fier's mother, and discover that..._

*Something's Cooking*

*Day 6 of Suspension*

Our heroes take some well-deserved rest.  Dru shops around for some potions, buying one of _invisibility_, and pays to have one of the ones the pair have collected over the last few days identified.  It turns out to be a potion of _nondetection_. Di'Fier spends the day scribing a scroll of _obscuring mist_.

Nobody tries to kill them.

*Day 7 (Final Day) of Suspension*

Once again, Dru and Di'Fier meet for breakfast.  As they're relaxing and picking their teeth, an owl flies into the tavern and begins circling Di'Fier's head.  It's got some kind of message, but it's not an invitation for him to come study at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - it's a summons from his mother.  Ever the obedient son, Di'Fier sets off, and Dru tags along, hoping she'll be allowed to kill something.

When they reach the house of Di'Fier's parents, his father is nowhere to be seen, and his mother is engaged in some kind of magical research.  These events are probably not directly related, although one never knows.  When she notices them, she turns and gives them a distracted smile.  "Oh, hello, dear.  I wonder if you can run an errand for me, since you're suspended from your job and all."

Di'Fier looks embarassed. "It's the last day, though."

"Oh, I'm sure it won't be the last day _ever_.  I need you to go to Andolyn's. She said she was going to send by the reagents I need but she hasn't yet.  Oh, and while you're there..." She lowers her voice and her eyes twinkle mischieviously. She leans in and whispers: "See if you can find out what Gendrew is making for the Wizard's Guild dinner.  He's being very hush-hush about it."  Straightening up, she turns back to her research, although not without saying, "You _are_ coming to the Guild dinner, aren't you, dear?  Why don't you bring a friend?" She offers Dru a wink. As she fiddles with her alembics and retorts, she asks, "What have you two been up to in the past week?"

Di'Fier and Dru fill her in on the whole mess with the gnome. She looks thoughtful and says, "That sounds just like what happened to that glassblower...what was his name? Brushgather."  Oops.  They forgot that they had found out about that one. "He was flinging molten glass at people. I think they have him locked up in the sanitarium."

On a hunch, Di'Fier asks his mother if the gnome might be a member of the Guild.

"Oh, I don't think so. Plenty of insane wizards, plenty of gnomish alchemists, but no insane gnomish alchemists."

Andolyn's place is about an hour and a half outside of town, so the pair set off.  As they climb the rocky hills above town, passing a couple of outlying farms (principal crop: stones, often harvested and made into low walls), they see a group of five souls staggering along the road.  The closer they get, the worse off they look...wounds...blood...hardly able to walk...

The last is made all the more amazing by the fact that none of the men lookas i they should be moving at all, let alone walking.  The grey pallor of death is visible on their features, and at least one is providing lunch for some maggots.  Dru and Di'Fier step away from the road...but the zombies have spotted them, and begin to lurch forward.  

Dru readies her bow and nocks an arrow, letting fly at the lead zombie and sending the shaft through him - which doesn't seem to bother him much at all.  They begin to lumber after the guardsmen, while Di'Fier pulls out his wand and launches a magic missile at one, scorching it and making it smell even less pleasant.

Dru casts the bow aside and draws her rapier, dashing forward to impale the 'wounded' zombie. The blade passes through its flesh with a sick sucking sound, and it collapses, the unholy force that animated it disrupted.  Its companion growls and retaliates with a mighty forearm smash to the side of the elf's head.  Di'Fier switches from wand to sword, but misses the zombie he aims at.

Dru spins and stabs the zombie that just clobbered her, twisting the blade viciously in the wound in the hopes that it might be more effective. Another rotting fist slams into her, knocking the breath out of her for a moment. Meanwhile Di'Fier lashes out with his blade, and removes a zombie's arms at the elbow. It swings at him with the stumps, and rather predictably misses.

Dru's next thrust goes wild as she recovers from the thumping she's just recieved, and the zombies don't let up, slowly surrounding her.  At least one slow but powerful blow gets through her guard.  Di'Fier cleaves the side of the head off of the one attacking him, but it still keeps on waving those stumps at him like they were going to have some effect.

Dru pinks one of the walking corpses with her blade and then moves away, hoping to put some distance between her and them.  Di'Fier, meanwhile, finally finishes off the armless zombie. (Well...mostly armless, anyway.)

Dru lets the zombies catch up to her, stabs one again, and is off.  Di'Fier takes advantage of the brief respite to speak some words of arcane power, and feels the sensation of sheer physical might wash over him as his _bull's strength_ gets a maximum roll.

Dru repeats her hit and run tactic, although with more running than hitting.  Di'Fier, meanwhile, cleaves nearly through one of the sodden corpses, but it keeps coming.  Eventually, though the bladework of the two guards finishes off the last of the zombies, and they stand in the middle of a field strewn with rotting, twitching body parts.  Dru decides to dismember them even more thoroughly, just in case, and to pile up the bits and set fire to them. Just in case.  After that, she chugs a couple of healing potions, and the bruises and cracks in her ribs fade away.

"Maybe that's why she didn't drop off the reagents," says Di'Fier. "Then again, she's a powerful enough mage that I don't think zombies would bother her."

The two carry on, and eventually spot the cottage, with it's well tended garden and the stand of maples surrounding it.  Di'Fier knocks on the door, but receives no response.  It's unlocked, so they go in.  "Hello? Anybody there? Andolyn? Gendrew?"  No sign of either of them, but no sign of zombies either, so that's a good sign.

Dru leans over to look at a book lying open on the table.  Suddenly, it leaps up and slams shut on her nose! The poker by the fireplace flings itself through the air, narrowly missing Di'Fier, who decides that he doesn't want to wreck up the living room, and dashes into the dining room.  Dru follows, as does the book, cover bent all the way back and flapping its pages like a crazed many-winged beetle.  It slams shut on her nose again.  This time she grabs it and trie sto throw it out the window.  The books slams into magically hardened glass and slides down, fluttering feebly a few times before it finally stops.

The pair head into the kitchen.  It's a disaster area - flour everywhere, pots and pans scattered.  A chair is wedged under the knob of a door.  Di'Fier knocks and calls out, "Andolyn?" From behind the door there is only the muffled sound of thumping.  "Maybe we should check out that hall on the other side of the living room," he says, in a moment of uncharacteristic caution. Dru agrees.

They dash through the living room (avoiding the poker which again flings itself at them) and into the hallway, which ends in a door.  Dru listens at the door: silence. They head back to the kitchen (again dodging the poker) and dither about which way to go.

A search of the kitchen reveals strange things: tracks in the flour on the floor (large but indistinct) leading to the closed and blocked doorway, signs of something heavy (someone?) being dragged out through the dining room, and oddly, spatters of tomato sauce here and there around the room.  The Watchmen decide to see what was dragged out of the room, and head back through the living room (on poker alert) into the hallway.  Di'Fier pounds on the door. "Andolyn? Gendrew?"

There's no answer, so they open it.  Shreds of torn paper litter the bedroom like autumn leaves, books (non-animated ones, thankfully) or the remnants there of scattered about.  On the bed, beaten, bloodied, and trussed like a turkey, is Gendrew.  He is unconscious.  Dru pours a potion of _cure light wounds_ into his mouth, but doesn't untie him yet.

Then, Di'Fier cries out in pain, feeling a sting and a burning sensation between his shoulderblades.  As Gendrew coughs and splutters to wakefulness, Dru sees a tiny winged devil shimmer into view on Di'Fier's back.

The imp leaps from Di'Fier's shoulder and lashes its tail through the air at Dru, who dodges and draws her sword.  She skewers the creature, but the wound closes even as she withdraws the blade.  Di'Fier fumbles a silver dagger from his belt and swings it at the devil but misses.  Gendrew cries, "Eh? What's going on?!" and struggles with his bonds, but he's facing the far wall and can't see a thing.

Dru again dodges the imp's poisoned barb, dropping her rapier and drawing her own silver dagger.  This time when she wounds it, the wound does not close - instead the flesh of the imp bubbles and pulls away from the blade and it squeals with pain.  Di'Fier can't connect with the little flying beast, though.  "Who's there?" Gendrew asks. "What's going on?"

Dru curses as the barbed tail lashes out and catches her on the cheek, and she feels the side of her face burn and go numb. Distracted, her blade cuts only air, while Di'Fier decides to go for a surer route: drawing his wand he pumps a _magic missile_ into the creature, leaving a smoking scorch on its back. "Somebody untie me!" Gendrew cries.

The thing lashes out at Dru one last time, then flies down the hall towards the living room.  Dru dashes after it, and Di'Fier moves to the doorway and sends another magic missile towards it.  Meanwhile, the poker has been lying in wait.  it whirls through the air towards Dru, who parries it to one side with her blade.

Then, the imp vanishes.  Dru viciously slices the air where it was, then dashes back down the hall to get away from the haunted (but inept) poker.  Di'Fier follows her. "Hello? Hello?" Gendrew is saying. "Where did everyone go? Help!"  The Watchmen untie him and introduce themselves.

"What dragged you back here?" Di'Fier asks.

"I think it was the imp...I had just barricaded my creation in the basement..."

"Is that what made the mess?"

"Yes...it was supposed to be for the Wizard's Guild dinner. A calzone golem - the first edible construct ever. Andolyn helped me with it." Gendrew sighs. "I can't just let the thing rampage around the basement.  You've already saved me once, I don't suppose I can prevail upon you to do it again?"

Dru and Di'Fier exchange looks. Edible constructs was _not_ something covered in Guard training. "All right," Di'Fier says.

"Splendid!" says the old chef. "I've got some things that will help you." He begins rummaging about in a closet.  Meanwhile, the numbness has spread throughout Dru's torso and arms as the venom continues to work. Her fingers seem like clumsy sausages, and even her steps falter. Di'Fier doesn't seem to be suffering any more effect, though.

"Here we are...potions!" says the chef happily. "Let's see...you'll want this one to resist fire - the golem is quite warm....this one if you get hurt..."

"Warm?" asks Dru. "I wonder if ice spells would work on it."

The chef considers. "It might make it soggy," he ventures, then holds up a potion. "This one will make you nimble." Dru takes it and drinks it on the spot, counteracting the effects of the imp's venom (for the time being).  Di'Fier drinks the potion of _endure elements_ and they head back to the kitchen (once again playing dodge-the-poker).

Once there, it's kick-in-the-door time! Dru dives off the stairs halfway down to give Di'Fier a clear shot.  The guard-mage incants some arcane syllables, and a beam of icy cold lances out, striking the thing in the center of its chest.  Its movements slow.

The golem is a large, doughy humanoid construct smelling of cheese and tomatos, but for all its ridiculous appearance (and tasty smell) it is still a berserk golem.  Dru barely manages to evade its powerful swing as she backpedals, pulling a vial of acid from her pouch and flinging it at the creature, where it sizzles and eats away at the crusty outer coating.

Di'Fier pulls his sword and flexes his magically-enhanced muscles. Charging down the steps, he plants the blade deep into the side of the golem, resulting in a splatter of steaming hot tomato sauce that would have burned him were it not for the effects of the potion.  The golem puffs up for a moment, then releases a cloud of garlic/cheesy gas that nearly sends Di'Fier staggering from the sheer stench - but the guardsman holds his ground, parrying the huge arms of the thing.  Dru flings another vial of acid and curses the gnome for having such weak stuff on his shelves.

Di'Fier slices into the golem again, although not quite so dramatically as last time.  The thing bellows and swings at him again, but he evades its clumsy blows - although they are coming faster now as the golem heats up again. Dru abandons the acid and pulls her bow, sending an arrow into the thing (and splattering Di'Fier with more hot tomato sauce). Then she feels an all-too-familair stinging sensation, and numbness attacks her once again.

Di'Fier backpedals from the golem and pulls his wand, sending a _magic missile_ into the imp from across the room. The golem has recovered from the mage's frosty attack, though, and lumbers forward while he is distracted, smashing into him with both enormous hands, knocking the wind out of him. Dru draws her silver dagger again and this time manages to connect.  The imp's flesh boils away from the wound and it evaporates in a cloud of ill-smelling smoke.

Di'Fier reels under the crushing blows of the belligerant food-product, slashing with his sword but feeling the blade deflected by its crusty exterior. The calzone golem doesn't let up, slamming into him again and again, until Di'Fier is again splattered with tomato sauce as an arrow from Dru's bow pierces the golem. It begins to collapse into a formless mess in the center of the basement.

Di'Fier licks the sauce from his face. "Tasty," he comments.

Then, they hear a voice from upstairs. "Gendrew? Gendrew, what is all of this _mess_?" Andolyn's round and cheerful face appears at the top of the stairs. "Oh, hello Di'Fier. I just dropped by your mother's to give her those reagants I promised her." She turns on her husband. "Now just what happened here?"

Explanations are given.  Dru says, "I'm sorry I had to kill your book," but Andolyn doesn't seem upset. Under her careful ministrations the poker seems to have calmed down.  She and Gendrew make a gift of the remaining potions - _vision_, _cure moderate wounds_, _jump_ ("No idea why we even have it," says Gendrew), and _bull's strength_ - to the pair.  "We'd have you for dinner, but under the circumstances..." Andolyn shrugs apologetically.

Dru and Di'Fier shamble back to town, looking little better than the zombies they fought earlier. The numbness and clumsiness has returned to Dru, and Di'Fier's feeling pretty lousy too.  They resolve to ask for a few days of medical leave.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Six Teaser*

Well, we didn't play on Friday - Di'Fier's player had a date.  But we made up for it Saturday, with an 8 hour megasession split into two parts: first, the annual Wizard's Guild dinner, and second, a funeral for fallen Guardsmen.

Anyway, look for a post (or more probably two) sometime during the week.  Hear Di'Fier tell his partner, "Remember, we can't just ask everyone if they're the necromancer."  See Dru ask, "So, how is papa doing?" at the Guild banquet. And lest you think it's all fine food and talking, our heros prove that you don't need to be a cleric to kick undead butt.

Next week, our heros try to track down some stolen documents, investigate an extremely bloody murder, and meet Brother Egil again, who wants them to look into something for him...

It'll be a mystery-solving, butt-kicking extravaganza! Don't miss it!

J, not saying which butts will be kicked


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## drnuncheon

*Session Six, Part One: Lunch with the Guards*

(I'm going to do a bit of experimentation with the story format this time, to see how it works out.  Let me know what you think!)

Captain Donnach of the Freeport City Watch sat in his chair, staring miserably at the stack of papers in front of him.  _There was a time,_ he thought, _when the only thing I had to worry about was finding a warm, safe spot out of the wind._  He picked up the paper on top and grimaced - the healer's report on the injured guardsmen. _3 down for at least a week,_ he sighed inwardly. _One dead and one not expected to last the night.  Add that to Tas, and Kiva..._

The door swung open and a pair of figures limped in: bruised and battered.  Without waiting for permission, they collapsed into the chairs in front of his desks.  Donnach didn't even need to look up to know that this was not going to be something he wanted to hear. "Dru. Di'Fier." He leveled a glance at them. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Dru leaned back in her chair as Di'Fier took the lead.  The captain let the explanation wash over him all but unheard as he studied the pair.  _I used to be like that,_ he thought. _Charging off to do my own 'investigations', getting into far more trouble than I could handle..._ Something the young man said brought him out of his reverie.  "What's that? Did you say zombies? Where?" He pulled the map of the island from his side table and dropped it on top of the paperwork he was avoiding.

Di'Fier studied it for a moment, then put his finger down. "About here," he said, and Donnach made another mark. "Why? What's going on?"

_That's right, they've been suspended for a week,_ Donnach thought.  Clearing his throat, the captain pulled the map away and tapped the pile of papers. "We've been having a lot of problems with the undead lately.  Zombies and skeletons just wandering into the town, as if they're looking for something...and attacking whoever they see.  A nest of ghouls somewhere near the graveyard as well."  The captain watched the two of them exchange glances. _So help me gods, if I find out they had anything to do with this..._  He could feel the throbbing in his temple that signaled the onset of another headache.  There was something else they wanted...oh yes, medical leave.  He studied the pair with a jaundiced eye. _They look like hell,_ he thought. _Worse than usual._  "All right. Get your badges. You're back on duty after the funeral service in two days. And send Hogni in with that willowbark tea of his." Donnach rubbed at his forehead. It was going to be a very long week.  He didn't even hear them stumble out the door.

"Migraines again, Captain?" Hogni said, holding a steaming mug in his knobby hand.  "How come you always get them after Dru and Di'Fier show up to talk to you?"


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Two days later, Dru and Di'Fier sat in the common room of the Brass Orchid, enjoying their breakfast - and their last day of medical leave.  Dru toyed with her fork, enjoying the fact that she could once again spin it across her fingers without dropping it - the priest's miracle had removed all trace of the imp's venom.  Di'Fier reached for his mug with ink-stained fingers - he must have been scribing scrolls again.

"So Kiva comes up to the room with breakfast, and looks at me horrified, and says, 'The innkeeper _winked_ at me!'" Dru finished.  "Anyway, he's looking for a new place."

"I don't blame him," her partner said. "Not after what happened." He paused to finish the last bite of his steak and eggs, and then spoke up again.  "The Wizard's Guild dinner is this afternoon, and then the funeral afterwards."

"At least I won't have to change," Dru muttered, already not relishing the idea of spending an afternoon with the Wizard's Guild of Freeport.  _Maybe someone will attack us and we'll be too busy to go,_ the thought wistfully. "I think we should go look for that greaseball pimp."

"Tovin?  The one who was beating that girl?"

"Yeah."

Di'Fier shrugged, dropped a few coins on the table, and the pair set off to find trouble.  Their fruitless search led them all through the Dock Quarter and up to the gates to the Old City - site of the Rusty Lantern, where they stopped in for a drink.

The Rusty Lantern was a guardsman's bar - every city has one, usually in a small, out of the way street where there isn't a lot of trouble.  Run by a retired guardsman, the Lantern was one of the few places a guard could go to relax and _not_ be expected to break up a fight or arrest a miscreant every few minutes.

A loud voice called out as they entered, "Hey, they're alive!" The massive arm of Sergeant Hallfred gripped Di'Fier on the shoulder, and the young guardsman could feel his bones grind together under the massive grip.

"Yeah, which of you lost money on that?" asked Dru dryly.  3 or 4 tentative hands raised, to much laughter among the more experienced guardsmen.  A few moments later and it was business as usual, with Dru and Di'Fier sitting at a table and telling the rest of them what they'd been up to in the last week.

"I'll tell you, it's like the city's gone mad," said Antone, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know what I caught someone stealing the other day? _Vanilla_ beans!  I guess there's some kind of shortage or something."

"And then there's all of these undead problems," Di'Fier agreed. Looking at his partner, he mused aloud: "I wonder if there's some connection with that temple we found?  There were those skeletons there..."

"That temple?" Hallfred asked. "Hah.  You know who got the job of cleaning it out? _Verlaine's_ Guards."  He said the word like it tasted of offal.  Verlaine's Guard were more despised by the Watch than any other group in the city. Loyal only to Councillor Verlaine, a threat to the Watch's job security, and thanks to Verlaine's connections, able to get the assignments that the City Watch could only dream of.

Dru stared into her drink for a moment, then changed the subject. "Any of you guys know an organization that uses a rose as its calling card?" 

A general murmur went around the table, but nothing more.  "Why do you want to know?" came Jaffar's hoarse whisper. The man couldn't do much more than whisper - he learned his lesson about the Freeport Noose the hard way.

"Someone got into my room," Dru said softly, "And decided to leave me a sign while he was there.  And on the corpse of the guy that tried to kill me."

"Sounds like a real Romeo," Jaffar chuckled. "I see he knows the way to your heart is through a pile of bodies."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Let me know what you think of the story format!  It'll definitely slow things down, so unless people are just wild about it I might go back to the old way - or maybe I'll save story posts for times when there's a huge amount of interaction, like the Guild Dinner in the next part.  Feedback is always appreciated.  

There's two more posts coming for this session, and sometime this week I need to write another review or two...anyway I hope to be caught up by the time we play on Friday.


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## drnuncheon

*Session Six, Part Two: Dinner with the Wizards*

_The standard equipment issued to members of the Freeport City Watch includes:_
 _Armor, Leather (1)_
 _Sword, Short (1)_
 _Truncheon (1)_
 _Lantern, Oil, Shuttered (1)_
 _Medallion, Freeport City Watch (1)_
 _Chain, Medallion (1)_
 _Uniform, Dress, Wool (1)_

*Dru*

Dru tugged at the high collar of her City Watch dress uniform and grimaced.  The wool was scratchy and too hot, it bound in all the wrong places, and she had to wear the gods-damned Noose with it.  All because Di'Fier had gone and dragged her to this Wizard's Guild dinner.  Bunch of addle-headed academics swapping potion recipes, no doubt. _And it's not even at the right time for dinner,_ she thought sourly. _Even for people on a normal schedule._

The little gnome leading their group to the reception area pushed the doors open with a grunt of effort, and bellowed out: "Maga Eleanor and husband, Watch-Sergeant Di'Fier and guest!"

_...and I don't even rate an introduction since I'm not a mage. It's going to be a long day._

The other guests were clustered in their tiny knots of conversation around the hall - some took notice of the newcomers, others did not. A portly man in expensive robes of red and black velvet glanced at the swords that the Watch-Sergeants wore, and his face soured briefly before he ostentatiously turned his back and continued his conversation with another mage.

Di'Fier leaned closer to his partner. "Remember, we can't just ask everyone if they're the necromancer."

Dru bit back a grin and snagged an _hors d'oeuvre_ as it floated past in the wake of an apprentice, shanghaied into serving as a waiter.  Out of long habit she scanned the place, taking note of the people present and who they were talking to.

Across the room, an aged man - but still hale and hearty - was talking with a woman and her son.  The woman was middle-aged and trying to keep ahold of her beauty, the son in perhaps his twenties and obviously bored.  Still, from the respect and deference that everyone treated the old man with, she could make a fair guess that he was High Wizard Tarmon.

Slightly closer, a black-clad elf with ruffs of lace at throat and cuffs spoke with an auburn-bearded dwarf. Dru's eye fell on the rapier at the elf's hip and she felt an eyebrow rise in surprise - she'd thought she and Di'Fier would be the only ones with blades here, and that only because they were part of the Watch's dress uniform.

Across the hall, near a sideboard arrayed with wine and sweetmeats, a burly dark-skinned man argued with a petite older woman, her hair shot through with gray.  She was obviously not taking the matter as seriously as he, and her attitude only inflamed the man more.  Circling about them and attempting to put in a few words of his own was Di'Fier's uncle Fenwyck. _Oh, perfect,_ Dru grumbled to herself.  Even as she watched he detached himself and began weaving towards them. The flush on his cheeks indicated that the glass of wine he held was not the first he'd had that night.

Fortunately, the other pair coming towards them was altogether more pleasant - if more unusual. Andolyn and her husband Gendrew made their way through the clusters of magi towards them. "Di'Fier, Dru, hello!" called Gendrew, the delight showing on his face.

"Hello, Gendrew," Di'Fier responded.  "Did you make another edible golem for the dinner?"

The man seemed a bit crestfallen. "No, there wasn't time to experiment with the recipe.  But next year...I've got an idea for a _wonderful_ pie..."

Dru watched as Di'Fier was swept off into a conversation with his parents about the bizarre construct they had fought in Gendrew's basement, and turned instead to look for something to drink. Reaching for a glass of wine, her fingers encountered another hand.

"My apologies," the black-clad elf smiled, releasing the wineglass into Dru's grasp. "I will wait until the waiter has refreshed his tray." He locked gazes with the Watch-sergeant for a moment, then bowed slightly. "My name is Gothos Ebonrazor," he began.

Behind him, the dwarf snickered.  

Gothos shot him a dirty look.  "...and this is my _friend_, Garto."

The dwarf grunted a greeting, hooking his thumbs in his belt and surveying the rest of the crowd.

Something made Dru introduce herself with her full name. "I am Drusillia Naïlo," she told him, and saw his eyes widen a bit with surprise.  "I'm not a wizard," she felt it necessary to add. "I'd much rather kill things."

Gothos recovered himself well. "Of course.  My companion and I are adventurers. We've been exploring the Serpent Isles for some time now."

_Adventurers?_ Dru thought, with a bit of disappointment. _But they seemed so normal._ "Oh really?" she asked dryly. "Have you found anything?"

"As a matter of fact, we have," said the elf smugly.  "Did you know the Serpent's Teeth used to be inhabited by a race of snake-creatures?"  

Every hackle on Dru's neck stood on end. 

"They're long extinct, of course," the elf-mage continued, "but we found an abandoned temple on the other side of the isle that we cleared part of."

_Extinct, eh? Shows what you know._ Dru forbore from commenting, though, instead introducing the pair to Di'Fier, who had managed to break away from his family.  


*Di'Fier*

_Thank the gods I was able to break away from that_, the young Watchman thought to himself. _If I have to listen to Uncle Fenwyck's "give up this guard nonsense" speech one more time I think I'll snap._ He made his way over to his partner and the strange pair talking to her.

_Gothos Ebonrazor? That's a false name if I ever heard one. I wonder why the dwarf keeps snickering._ Glancing around, he saw one of the guests from the mainland - the young man who'd been talking with High Wizard Tarmon - was now earnestly conversing with a thin but sweaty man. _Kenzil,_ he thought to himself. _Rumored to be involved with the Blue Lantern Gang...although nobody's ever found proof._ Kenzil's former conversational companion, the velvet-robed man in red and black, was sweeping towards them, a sneer on his face.

"Ah, Garto," the man said, the expression on his face belying the pleasantry of his words. "I see your taste in companions is...admirable."

The dwarf guffawed. "Yer just jealous 'cos any one of them could whup yer ****."

"A true wizard," the man sniffed, "needs no crutches." He cast a disdainful look at the sword hanging at Di'Fier's hip.

Di'Fier looked him over. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure," he said coolly.

"I am Eligaard," the man began, "magus of the third rank."  The word _magus_ was nearly drowned out by Garto's offering of "pompous windbag".

"Watch-sergeant Di'Fier."

"Oh. The prodigal."

"You've been speaking to my uncle."

"He is a wise man."

Dru turned to Gothos. "Isn't it amusing when someone half your age tries to come across as so superior?"

Eligaard sputtered, and flushed red. He ground out, "As Garto can tell you, age is not necessarily an indicator of power."  With that, he spun on his heel and left.

"He has a power problem, doesn't he?" Dru observed.

"He's an ****hole," Garto confirmed.

"And these," came a new voice, "are some of our newer members." The High Wizard had led his guest to their little group.  Scurrying along behind the pair was Uncle Fenwyck - although there was perhaps more weaving than scurrying.  "Garto is not only a capable wizard but also an expert in linguistics...Li-ah, _Gothos_ is a recent arrival, and this is Watch-sergeant Di'Fier and..." he looked at Dru, puzzled. "...guest," he finished.

"Yes, Di'Fier's a guardsman," Fenwyck offered. "He'd be quite a capable mage if he abandoned all of this running about with a sword.  Runs in the family, if I do say so myself. His grandfather - my father - was High Wizard for..."

Ignoring Fenwyck's babbling completely, the blonde laid a hand on Di'Fier's arm and looked at him with her deep green eyes. "I'm sure your adventures as a guard are absolutely _fascinating_. You must share them with me sometime."

The gnome pushed the doors open again. "High Wizard Emeritus Volund!" 

_Grandfather!_ Di'Fier thought, and joined the mass of people moving to greet the ancient and respected wizard.


*Dru*

The elf sighed as Di'Fier moved away. _One more person who doesn't approve of the path Di'Fier has taken,_ she thought to herself. _And one more person who looks at me as a symbol of that path._ She made her way across the room to the sideboard, where Di'Fier's father was loading a plate with _hors d'ouevres_. He shot her a pitying look, and for a moment there was mutual understanding between the two.

"Alust, magus of the third circle...Ivellimor, magus of the second circle...Quarion, magus of the first circle." The gnome's voice echoed in Dru's ear, and the names in her mind.

All three worked for her father.


-----
_Phew. This is exhausting. Still more to go, since I cut off before the end of dinner. I may drop back to log mode for normal sessions, and reserve story mode for the heavy-roleplaying ones like the Guild dinner - and the interludes, of course._


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## drnuncheon

*Session Six, Part Three: Dinner with the Wizards, Continued*

*Dru*

Dru's eyes flashed around the room. _If I try anything, someones bound to notice,_ she thought. _Then again, if they try anything someone's bound to notice._ She took a casual step closer to the sideboard, shielding herself from their direct line-of-sight behind Di'Fier's father. 

The retired Watchman looked at her, flicked his eyes the other way, and turned to more completely block her from their view. "Trouble?" he asked.

Dru gave a curt nod, watching as the three moved over to greet Ebonrazor. _I might have known.  Not only an adventurer, but mixed up with them..._ She glanced around the rest of the room.  Di'Fier was still cornered by that Elsa woman, no help to be had there.  The woman's son and the sweaty fellow - strange, they'd disappeared.  Everyone else she knew was in the knot surrounding the High Wizard Emeritus.

Movement caught the corner of her eye.  Gothos was gesturing towards her, and her father's pet mages turned to lock their eyes on her. _Too late,_ she thought. _Best bull through it._ She let her gaze sweep over them, not lingering, as if she didn't find them worthy of her attention.  Meanwhile, she reviewed what she knew.

Quarion. He'd attached himself to the organization long after she left her father's fold, but he was of little account.  It looked like he'd decided to toady up to Alust in the hopes that the elf was "going somewhere".

Ivellimor.  A pity, really - he ought to know better. He was always in it for the excitement and the money, instead of the elven superiority her father preached.

Alust. Undoubtedly the leader of the trio, if only because Quarion was too spineless and Ivellimor too disinterested.  He'd like to _think_ he'd make a good leader, but the only reason he was really tolerated was his magic.

The elves turned away from Gothos and conferred among themselves. _Interesting. Maybe he's not a part of it after all..._

Her study was interrupted by the ponderous opening of the great doors into the dining hall.  The panting gnome caught his breath and then called out, "Magi and guests, dinner is served!" Then he scampered out of the way as the knots of wizards and their guests and relations began to move _en masse_ towards the tables.


*Di'Fier*

Di'Fier guided his partner to the table.  They wouldn't be seated at the High Table, not being officers - although the rest of his family was. The rest of the seats were arranged by rank.  He found himself seated next to the dwarf, Garto.  On Garto's other side was the pompous Eligaard. _A recipe for trouble,_ he thought, _based on how much they seem to like each other_.

The other side of the table was lined with elves. Alust, Ivellimor, Gothos, and Quarion. The black-clad elf took a look at the arrangements and then reached out and plucked Quarion's card from it's place, switching it with his own.  The young elf's cry of protest dwindled at this unexpected social promotion, and Gothos sat down across from Dru. _What is he up to?_

The gnome clambered into the tall seat at the head of the table, and finally Di'Fier was able to place him - Glenfield, Tarmon's apprentice.  The gnome carefully set an ancient and withered looking toad on the table by his plate.  As the High Wizard's apprentice, he was given the honor of the head seat at one of the lower tables, expected to act as host - and to care for his master's familiar.

_Ampiel?_ Di'Fier sent a wave of questioning over the link he shared to his raven.

_*tasty*_ was the reply.

_Maybe it's better that I don't know,_ the young Watch-Sergeant reflected.

The first course was a fish soup, served at room temperature.  "It's cold," grumbled Garto.

Smoothly, Eligaard suggested, "Perhaps you should send it back."

"Good idea." The dwarf waved an apprentice over. "Take this back and heat it up."  The boy was too flustered to object, and so the first hint Garto had of his _faux pas_ was the snickering of Alust and his companions.  

"I think it's supposed to be served cold," observed Dru."

Di'Fier leaned over to the dwarf. "When it comes back, tell me if it's any better."

The dwarf reddened above his beard and turned to glare at Eligaard.  The mage, unconcerned, kept sipping his own dish.

Di'Fier whispered to his partner, "I hope that when they bring the bread out, they _don't_ bring any knives..."

Following the soup was some sort of stuffed mushroom in sauce. As it was brought out, Di'Fier caught Garto winking at his elven friend.  Then the dwarf turned to Di'Fier.  "So, what do you think of this 'Milton's Folly', eh? If they'd had dwarves working on it, it'd be done already, and under budget to boot!"

It was almost enough to distract Di'Fier from the subtle gesture that Gothos made under the cover of the table.  As he opened his mouth to reply, the plate that was being set in front of Eligaard suddenly upended itself, spilling mushroom, cheese, and cream down the front of the wizard's rich velvet robes.

"You clumsy _oaf_!" the mage bellowed, springing to his feet and advancing on the terrified apprentice.

Garto grinned at his elven friend.

From the high table, Tarmon's voice carried clearly across the room. "What is going on down there?" 

It stopped Eligaard in his tracks, and the mage turned and bowed. "My apologies, High Wizard.  There was an...accident with a stuffed mushroom.  I am certain," he gritted, with a glance at Garto, "that it will not happen again."  He resumed his seat.

"...so there we were, surrounded by assassins, with six crossbows levelled at us, and we were still in the jongeleur's costumes.  I pull my knife, and then Di'Fier tells them to stand down, that they are all under arrest.  It went downhill after that."

Gothos chuckled warily, as if he weren't sure whether he believed the story - or whether he wanted to.  "And is that where you got the scar?"

"No, that was a different time altogether.  We were investigating a guy running illegal games of _za'this_ on his boat..."

Alust leaned back in his chair, and asked Di'Fier from across the table, "So tell me, Watchman, do your studies of swordplay leave you any time to learn to, say, detect magic?"

"Oh," Di'Fier replied diffidently. "I use scrolls for _that_."

The exchange caught Dru's attention, though, for she leaned over and studied the elf in the center. "Ivellimor. I see you're slumming."

He grinned, brushing silver-gold hair away from his face. "No more than you."

"I'd rather walk with a human than with pond scum," Dru replied, glancing at Alust. "So...how is papa doing?"

The leader of the trio waved his hand diffidently. "Still on his superiority kick. If he put his mind to making money, he'd be doing better for himself."


*Dru*

Dru studied Alust's flunkies for their reactions. _It's a dangerous game you're playing, Alust.  I'll bet you have no idea just how dangerous._  Tensin Naïlo did not take insurrection or insubordination lightly - a fact she knew all too well.

As the fish was served, Gothos leaned across the table. "I notice our guest from the mainland seemed very interested in your partner."

"I noticed that too," said Dru and Di'Fier, near simultaneously.

"I'd watch yourself," Gothos said softly. "Baron Dragosani passed away under some rather unusual circumstances.  It's fortunate that he had a son to succeed him."

The rest of the dinner passed more or less without event.  Garto and Eligaard confined themselves to verbal jabs, Di'Fier ate quietly, her father's men conversed among themselves, and Gothos listened to more tales of her exploits since becoming a guard.  When the dinner began to break up for brandy and cigars, she caught her partner's eye.

"Time to go."

Di'Fier nodded. "Yes, you must excuse us.  We have a funeral to attend."

"Hardly surprising," sniffed Eligaard, "in those who choose to live by the blade."

Dru's fist clenched involuntarily, but she restrained her anger. _Later. Wait until he's done something illegal, and then you can take him down._ She spun on her heel without a word, and the two Watch-Sergeants strode from the hall side-by-side.

_Next: Dessert with the Dead!_


----------



## DiFier

mmm dessert.  luckily while Dr. N has called that section dessert with the dead it has nothing to do with fighting food.  not that I didn't enjoy the 'Something's Cooking' adventure, it was a lot of fun just too many edible constructs might get cheesy (oh man!)  while there isn't much dessert (at least for us) there is lots of dead.  

We unfortunatlly began rolling very poorly.  I think the dice were peeved when we didn't use them for the first half of the session.  

Di'fier


----------



## drnuncheon

_...guilty look..._

I don't know when the next update will be - tomorrow night I'm gaming online, Wednesday night is Enterprise, Thursday night will be an Escaflowne marathon (assuming Amazon delivers in time), and Friday is the next session.  Hmmm.

Well, I'll give a teaser.  In upcoming episodes we will see:


when *not* to have a contract dispute
Dru: "The quality of thugs in this city is going downhill."
Di'Fier: "Did he resemble a snake in any way?"
the untimely death of a guardsman
the reappearance of the rose

and most amazing of all...

 Dru and Di'Fier show restraint!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Six, Part Four: Dessert With the Dead*

*Dru*

Dru and Di'Fier stood in ranks with the other Watchmen, assembled at the graveside.  A thin grey rain fell from the sky, wetting their hair and running down the outside of their oiled cloaks.

Next to Dru, Kiva sighed. Quietly, to himself: "I've been here too much lately."

At the gates to the cemetary, the pipes began to play. The honor guard advanced, carrying the two boxes of unfinished pine.  Dru fought to keep the sneer from her lips as she saw who was in the honor guard - the guards who kept their noses clean, and never upset anyone important.  _If you don't bring any true justice to the city,_ she thought sourly, _we might let you carry your coworker's coffin._

The priest of the merchant god - a fat old man - began to intone the words of the funeral service - words the two Watch-Sergeants had heard far too often.  But something seemed wrong.  Dru could feel it - her partner was on alert, and his eyes were not closed in prayer, but searching out into the dim mist.

And then, a hand closed around her ankle.


*Di'Fier*

The ceremony exploded into chaos.  All around and among the guardsman, skeletal hands clawed their way from the muck to lash out at the living.  Di'Fier spoke a word of power, feeling the arcane forces tighten into a protective net around his body. His hand went to the new weapon that hung from his belt - a heavy mace.  Once again, foresight paid off.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dru dumping a vial onto the hand that held her - it turned black and began to smoke before shattering violently.  The other guards were panicking, struggling to free their blades and back away from an enemy that surrounded and intermingled with them - and above it all, the high pitched fearfulness of the priest: "This was not in the contract!"

"Captain, behind you!" he heard Dru shout.

"Form up!" cried Captain Donnach, trying to rally his men. "Riot formation! Move, guards! NOW!"

Di'Fier sent his mace smashing through the ribcage of one of the creatures, sending its broken pieces to the ground.  From out of the mist, he saw the source of the movement he noticed earlier: bounding out of the mist came slavering, bestial man-shapes, dead grey skin pulled tight over muscle and bone...and an umistakable sense of _hunger_.  They smashed into the forming guard formation, and Dru and the Captain were barely able to turn aside their blows.  Meanwhile, the priest was proving that the walking dead care nothing for money - no matter how fervently he presented the golden medallion before him, the skeletons continued their inexorable advance.


*Dru*

Dru's blade turned on the ghoul. _At least here's something with flesh to wound!_ But the undead thing ducked under her thrust, came up inside her guard, and its teeth found her shoulder, and blood flowed.  

Beside her, the captain suffered the same fate - and as his limbs began to stiffen, she remembered that humans did not share the same immunity to the touch of the creature as she did.  Or at least, most didn't - Jaffar somehow managed to fight on despite the claw-rakes along his side.

The melee swirled around her as guards hacked and bashed at skeletons, their blades doing little to the fleshless creatures. _Where's Di'Fier?_ she thought wildly, parrying a claw-stroke from the ghoul and executing a _riposte_ that sank deep into its shoulder.


*Di'Fier*

The mud splashed around his feet as Di'Fier charged across the cemetary-become-battleground. His eyes were fixed on the bloody-fingered skeleton that was even now lashing out again at Kiva. _Oh, no you don't! We just got him patched up!_ he thought, his feet sliding in the muck as he tried to plant a massive swing on the skeleton. His blow did not land, and the slip left him open for the skeleton to turn its tender attentions to him - clawing even through the _mage armor_ that protected him.

The guardsman brought the mace around on the backswing, and this time he did not miss.  The skeleton crumpled into a pile of unattached bones, its skull shattered like a bottle in a dockside barfight.  Around him, the guards began to rally as their desperate repeated blows finally began to take effect - one skeleton dropped, and another staggered drunkenly on with a shattered hip. "Kive, get out of here," he said, and the bleeding guardsman nodded, heading for the nearest source of cover - the freshly dug grave. Di'Fier hoped his action wasn't going to turn out to be symbolic.

In the momentary lull, Di'Fier looked up to see the ghouls reaping the guards like wheat, paralyzed bodies falling in their wake.  The mace fell to the mud of the field, and he draw his sword.  His left hand twisted into an arcane sigil, and he spoke another word of power, feeling strength and power flood through his veins.  Grimly, he raised the bastard sword with both hands.


*Dru*

_There's no time for this,_ Dru thought, glancing over to where the exhausted, bleeding guards tried to fend off their undead attackers.  Stepping around the ghoul, she struck again, her blade finding purchase in its greasy flesh.  Again and again its claws lashed out, opening red furrows on Dru's body, but her elven blood let her fight on.

Across the battlefield, she could see that not all of her companions were so lucky.  Jaffar was down, poor Hogni was down, half the honor guard was paralyzed..._If we don't turn this around soon, we're not getting out of here._  Her blade took the ghoul through its open mouth, piercing its palate and thrusting up into the brain. She kicked the corpse off of her blade and headed for the captain.  She could see the priest scatter from her path, diving into one of the open graves as if that would hide him from her when she was done. _Useless b-st-rd._

Now she could see Di'Fier again, charging across the battlefield towards the ghouls.  He leapt over the open grave, but a poor landing made his blow miss. _When will he learn to leave the acrobatics to an elf?_ she thought, and rejoined the fray herself.


*Kiva*

Kiva barely had time to dive out of the way as the corpulent merchant-priest threw himself into the open grave. "Hey! Watch out!"

The priest huddled in the corner in terror. "Protect me...you must protect me...this isn't in the contract...burial service, not fighting undead...please..."

The guardsman sagged against the earthen wall. _Useless b-st-rd,_ he thought, unknowingly mimicing Dru's own thoughts on the matter.  Then a smile came to his lips.

"All right, I'll protect you," he said. "But I'm too badly wounded right now.  You've got to heal me."

The priest battled with every tenet of his faith. "But...the cost..."

"...is more than paid by my services in keeping you alive, right?"

Fearfully, the priest nodded, and as he touched Kiva a golden radiance spread over the guardsman, restoring him to health.

Kiva grinned. "Thanks." Movign forward, he planted one foot on the fat priest's head, using it to boost him out of the grave.  As he drew his sword, he could har the man's plaintive cry behind him: "You promised you'd protect me!"

"I am!" he shouted back. "Now just stay there and _shut up_!"


*Di'Fier*

The power surged in the warrior-mage's body as his blade bit deep into the ghoul's flesh.  Around him, the last of the skeletons were finally falling to the concerted efforts of the remaining guardsmen - even Kiva had returned to the fray.  The ghoul hissed as he raised his sword, and then as one it and its last remaining partner turned and fled into the night. Di'Fier's sword stroke bit through it as it ran, hurtling it to the mud, where it lay still.

The mud around Di'Fier was thick with the blood of his fellow guardsmen.  He thrust the blade into the ground to hold it and knelt by the nearest, pulling one of the vials of healing elixir from his belt and pouring it down the guard's throat.  The man coughed, and color returned to his face as the magic worked its way through his body.

Nearby, Jaffar had received the same treatment from Dru, and was sitting up weakly.  Di'Fier moved to Captain Donnach and knelt beside him.  The man was rigid, but blood still oozed from his wounds, and Di'Fier could feel a pulse. "You'll be all right in a few minutes, Captain," he said. "This will wear off in a little while."  He propped the captain's head on a rolled-up cloak to make the man as comfortable as possible in the wet mud and rain, and went to look for his partner.


*Dru*

The mud soaked through the knees of Dru's breeches as she knelt by the small, still form.  The remnants of the useless healing elixir were still visible on the poor man's lips, but she had not been fast enough.  _Goodbye, Hogni,_ she thought. _I guess the captain will need to find something else for his migraines._ She reached out and closed the guardsman's eyes, setting his head back down onto the ground.  Then she stood, and walked into the rain to find her partner.

_Hell of a way to come back to the job._


*Notes*

_Dru and Di'fier each gained a level after this. Details are in the Rogue's Gallery.  I've got a two session backlog to write up, so look for more Dru and Di'Fier soon!_


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Seven: Reptiles and Royal Jelly*

*DM Note: Assigning the Blame* - The following writeups will contain spoilers for Green Ronin's *Terror in Freeport* and "Thirds of Purloined Vellum" from Dungeon #88.  Details have been changed to protect the guilty.  Any other plotlines running through the narrative are my own fault.



*Di'Fier*

The wild-haired halfling stood behind Dru and Di'fier, clasping and unclasping his hands. "You will come back if you have more questions, yes? So few people want to know about the walking dead..."  The pair looked at each other, then gave the old man matching sickly grins and nods.

"My head feels like it's had a tanglefoot bag stuffed inside it," the elven Watch-sergeant complained as they made their escape from the sage's house.

"Well," her lanky human partner said, "they did say he was eccentric.  And he certainly knew what he was talking about.  This information ought to help out the guards if these undead problems continue.  Maybe we can get a bulk discount on holy water."

"All right. While you go talk to the captain, I need to see Spruce. I need him to do a little research for me."  Dru seemed nervous, eyes roaming, searching out rooftops and shadowed alleyways.

Di'Fier frowned. "Is it about that rose you found?"  His partner just nodded. "All right.  I'll meet you at the Rusty Lantern before duty."


*Dru*

_It feels almost strange to be back on patrol,_ the elf thought to herself. _Maybe we should get suspended again - we got a lot more done that week.  Still, it's good to have the badge and the Watch backing again._  Her reverie was interrupted by the ringing of steel on steel.  A fight, and not a small one. She shot a quick grin at her partner and drew her blade, even as Di'Fier summoned the ghostly protective force of his _mage armor_.  As one, the pair charged forward.

What they saw was a clearly unequal fight - a trio of ruffians surrounding a burly scimitar-weilding warrior - obviously a bodyguard - and his charge, a slight older man struggling to draw his dagger despite the encumbrance of the large satchel slung over his shoulder.  The bodyguard was making a valiant effort to hold off the thugs, but they had him distracted from the new threat - a group of three more ruffians emerging from an alley and heading towards the pair!

Dru's feet flew over the cobblestones. "Beware, behind you!" she shouted to the merchant, but her warning alerted her target as well, who spun and parried her initial thrust, then counterattacked. Only her long years of practice allowed her to defect the short blade that slashed out at her throat.  Only moments behind her, Di'Fier charged in to meet a foe that was ready for him - ready enough to block the warrior-mage's massive blade, at least.

Meanwhile, one of the new attackers slid along the alley wall, blade in hand.  With a startled yelp the merchant turned to confront him, but the older man's reflexes were not as fast as the Freeport thug's, and the man's blade sank deep into the merchant's gut, dropping him to the stony street. The man's bodyguard roared in anger, but the press of attackers kept him on the defensive.  Working together, the thugs flanked him, trading opportunities to open deep wounds in the man's flesh.  A dagger spun from one of the attackers towards Dru, but the magic of her buckler allowed her to swat it from the air like an annoying insect.

In the press of bodies, Dru could barely see what was happening to the merchant.  Her blade found purchase in flesh, somewhere, as she lashed out around her.  Then, from the crowd, she heard a voice: "We've got it! Come on!" followed by running feet.  Like a harbor mist on a windy day, the crowd of attackers began to disperse in all directions, some leaving trails of blood to mark their passage. Only the pair engaged in tormenting the bodyguard remained - if one broke, the man would be quick to finish off the other.

Dru growled and spun, reaching into her belt pouch as she ran after the thief with the satchel.  She could hear Di'Fier behind her fumbling with his bow, and then her fingers found what they were looking for - a glass vial containing an elixir of _invisibility_.  Without stopping, she pulled the stopper with her teeth and gulped the liquid down as she ran.  An arrow whistled past her but missed the running thief.

Dru gritted her teeth and pushed herself to run faster, to keep the thief in sight. Her rapier was clenched in her hand as she leaned into her run, throwing caution to the wind.  She was gaining on him.  The terrified thief looked behind him at the sound of footsteps, but saw nobody, and ran all the faster for it.  But not fast enough.

The thief pitched forward, sliding off of Dru's blade before she could even come to a stop. The satchel flew from his hand, sailing a few feet away before impacting with a disturbing sound of shattering crockery. _That did not sound good,_ Dru thought to herself, retrieving the leather bag.  _I hope it wasn't too important._  Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she ducked around the corner to return to the fray from the other side.


*Di'Fier*

Di'Fier pulled his blade free of the thug just as the man's companion sank his dagger deep into the bodyguard's side.  Seeing that his friend was down, the man spun and dashed away at top speed.  Di'Fier set his sword down and knelt by the dying man's side. "Hang on," he said.  Was that a flicker of understanding in the eyes?  His hand finally found the vial of healing potion, and he flicked the stopper from its mouth, pouring it into the man's throat.  _Seems I'm doing this a lot lately,_ the young Watchman thought to himself as the man started to revive. _I'd better see to the merchant, too..._

As he thought that, Dru came around the corner bearing the satchel. She squatted by the merchant. "Drink this."  The merchant stared up at her, uncomprehending until she pressed the potion vial on him. "He dropped it.  I heard something break."  The elf sighed. "The quality of thugs in this city is going downhill."  Helping the merchant and his bodyguard to their feet, the pair escorted them to the Black Rose, a nearby inn.







"So, what were they after?" Di'Fier asked the man - Kathkallan, he had called himself - after they were seated around one of the Rose's more secluded tables.

In response, the merchant opened his satchel, and sighed. "It seems one of my jars broke..." Looking back at them, he said, "This satchel represents my entire fortune - jars of a substance called royal jelly. Have you heard of it?" The Watchmen indicated that they had not. "Well, it is made by giant bees...they feed it to certain young bees to make then into queens."

Dru nodded sagely. "I can see where that would sell well."

"Actually, I had signed a contract with a cosmeticist...well...maybe that is not the best place to start," the merchant wavered.  "I was retracing the steps of my journeyman, Galliad, when I was attacked. He's vanished, and he's taken my contacts with him."

Di'Fier shook his head. "Wait...what contracts?"

"I had negotiated an exclusive contract with Arrasti cosmetics to buy these jars - the first product of my hives. They were to pay me..." he lowered his voice. "Four thousand pieces of gold." The shock on the Watchmen's face only deepened when he added: "Per jar.  But without the contract, he has me - he won't give me anywhere near that price, and I have no way to enforce it.  But if I sell to someone else, he can produce his own copy of contract and not only will I lose the sale and be fined, but he will be able to buy it from the city for a pittance."  The merchant set the satchel down carefully at his feet. "Then there was the other contract, as well."

"Other contract?" Di'Fier asked.  _How much worse could this get?_

"For vanilla beans.  I bought an option to purchase them for a hundred pieces of gold per pound some time ago."

The guardsmen looked at each other.  _Vanilla beans? Again?_  The merchant had already continued.

"...now selling for more than twice that, so you can see that I would stand to lose a great deal without that contract."  The merchant sighed.  "I must ask you to help me.  Find my journeyman and recover the contracts, please!"

"We'll do what we can, sir," Di'Fier assured him as the Watchmen took their leave.


*Dru*

Dru walked the streets quietly next to her partner, mulling over the merchant's plight.  _Someone has to have those contracts,_ she thought, _and I'll just bet it's whoever hired those thugs.  I wonder if the assistant ran off with them?_

Out of the darkness ahead came another bobbing lantern.  Dru's elven eyes were able to pick out the two watchmen who accompanied it long before any of the others could see each other.

"Kliege, Davos," she greeted them, and enjoyed seeing them start with surprise.  "Anything exciting?"

Davos, always the loquacious one, grunted.  His partner was more forthcoming.  "Not a lot," he said, pulling out a hand-rolled cigarette and lighting it from his lantern's flame.  "Find any dead bodies?  We had one."

"Oh yeah?" asked Di'Fier. "Not a young guy by any chance, short hair, from out of town?"

"Nah, old lady.  This girl was with her, she talked real funny - just says back what you say to her.  Like an echo."

Dru nodded. "We met her.  Did she seem like she was grieving?"

"...she seemed scared."  There was a long moment of silence, then the other Watchman gave a shrug. "We took her down to the station, gave her some soup, tried to get her to talk for a while, then we let her go." He pinched out his smoke and saved the dog-end for later.  As he turned to go, he paused.  "So who's this stiff you were askin' about?"

"A missing journeyman," Di'Fier said.  "First time in the city, he up and vanished.  His master's looking for him."

Davos snorted. "Check the brothels."  He and Kliege shared a chuckle, and walked back into the night.

Dru turned to her partner. "So...you want to go to a whorehouse, Di'Fier?"


*Di'Fier*

"That's the last one on our beat," Di'Fier sighed as he and Dru exited the _Jolly Roger_, "And none of them have seen this missing journeyman."

"It's about time to end our shift anyway," said his partner. "Lets head back to headquarters and check in. The Captain's probably got a new reason to yell at us."

A walk of only a few minutes brought them through the deserted, rain-slick streets to the Watch headquarters. As soon as they entered, they were hailed by the desk sergeant. "Someone's waitin' for you two. He's in the back."

"What now?" asked Di'Fier as they headed to the waiting room. "We didn't upset anyone...you don't suppose it's Kathkallan, do you?"

"No idea," said Dru, pushing the door open. "It could be..._Brother Egil?!_"

Indeed, the blonde priest of the God of Knowledge was seated in the room, a worried expression on his face - a face which lit up as Dru and Di'Fier entered the room.  "We don't get _that_ reaction much," muttered Di'fier.

"Dru, Di'Fier! I'm so glad I found you."  The priest reached forward to clasp each of their hands in both of his own.  "I must speak with you...about the matter in which you aided me a short time ago.  Is there a place where we can talk privately?"

Di'Fier nudged the door closed with his foot, and sat down. "Here's fine, nobody will bother us."

"Very well." The cleric took a deep breath, and then his words came rushing out like a wave. "It is Lucius, again - or rather, it was Lucius that led to me discovering what I did.  He has had much trouble readjusting - first the possession, then the kidnapping...I am sure you understand.  Lately, he has been getting worse - even going so far as to have fainting spells as he works at his desk."  The cleric sank back into his chair and looked around the room as if to reassure himself that nobody was listening in.

"Whenever he has a spell," Egil continued, "one of is takes him home.  Last night it was my turn.  I put him to bed and sat down to rest a moment.  I must have fallen asleep, but suddenly I was wide awake. I opened my eyes, carefully, and in the darkness I could see movement."

Dru and Di'Fier leaned forward to catch the priest's next words.

"The shape was not human.  I could smell it as well - it smelled like..." Egil paused, reaching for the words.  "...like water on rocks.  Like a cave.  Or a serpent."

The Watchmen exchanged glances as Egil went on. "It searched the room, looking through Lucious' drawers, examining his books.  I had no idea what it could possibly want - our order takes a vow of poverty, so Lucius had nothing to steal.  Finally, it seemed to find what it wanted - a scroll of some sort, which it hid in its cape as it left.  I haven't been able to tell Lucius about it at all - I fear it would only worsen his condition - but I knew that you two must be told."

Egil took another deep, shaky breath. "I do not believe that the Council is truly cleaning out those caverns.  Milos was able to convince our entire order that he was human - who knows how many other shapes he may have taken, or how many more of these snake-men are in the city today?  My friends, please, I beg of you: find out what is going on at the temple, uncover what these snake-men want in Freeport."

Di'Fier nodded. "We will, Egil. I've heard that Verlaine's men are guarding the temple now..."

"That is so," Egil confirmed.  "I have been by myself to see the site, and they were there. Three of them. I also made some inquiries around town, and tracked down a place where Milos took a room. It is in the Marquis Moon, in the Old City.  He called himself 'Devlin' when he rented it.  Perhaps there will be something there..."

Dru nodded. "We'll check it out first thing tomorrow morning," she promised as she and Di'Fier rose from their seats.  Dryly, she added: "Maybe we can even get suspended again." The elf chuckled at Egil's wince, and led him out the door.


_Next time: *Missing Persons and Missing Hearts*
Dru and Di'Fier conduct a pair of investigations: one official and one not - but the discovery of a body with a missing heart throws a new twist into their searches._


----------



## Thorntangle

Now I have to come up with a trademark version of "Great update".  Horacio owns that and Tsunami has a lock on "Woah" 

*Fantastic Update!* &#153;

I'm really getting to like the idea of a city-based adventure.  I guess it's because of the seemingly endless scenarios and a firm established base of operations that's never far from the action, shops, training, etc.  Everything all in one place.

A few questions - Are you planning to expand beyond Freeport when more source material is released or stay in Freeport indefinitely?
Are D & D planning on updating their arms/armor or are they bound forever by the city watch's standard issue equipment?


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *I'm really getting to like the idea of a city-based adventure.  I guess it's because of the seemingly endless scenarios and a firm established base of operations that's never far from the action, shops, training, etc.  Everything all in one place.
> *




Absolutely!  This is my first time running a city campaign, and I'm happy that it's going this well.  (It's also really my first extended 3e campaign - I had run some short adventures online and had an abortive attempt at one with some other folks earlier.)  I think it's a nice break from the usual to see the other side of things.

I'm not sure how much it comes across, but Dru is _very_ contemptuous of adventurers - they come into town, they cause all kinds of trouble, they think the laws don't apply to them...



> *
> A few questions - Are you planning to expand beyond Freeport when more source material is released or stay in Freeport indefinitely?
> *




Well, although I'm currently waiting with bated breath for *Freeport: City of Adventure* I don't think Green Ronin is going to be expanding the world too much - I think they want everyoen to put the city into their own world.  As for leaving Freeport, well, let's just say that it's a possibility in the future, and the seeds have already been planted.



> *
> Are D & D planning on updating their arms/armor or are they bound forever by the city watch's standard issue equipment? *




If you look closely, you'll note that neither of them actually use the standard issue weapons (beyond the truncheon, at least) - Di'Fier's got a bastard sword and Dru uses a rapier & buckler.  I think part of the reason they haven't upgraded is the fact that they've been kept relatively poor - for adventurers anyway. For guardsmen, they're quite well off!   So much of their money goes into buying healing potions...I know Dru is buying up her Use Magic Device, so I rather expect that she will be searching for someone to make her a _cure_ wand at some point.  

With regards to armor, Di'Fier in particular is loathe to go any heavier - he's quite frightened of the spell falure chances.  When he starts getting Spellsword levels I expect that will change.  They hardly need it, though - between their magical protections (Di'Fier's _mage armor_ and _ring of protection +2_ and Dru's _buckler +1 of arrow deflection_) and their high Dex scores, they've got ACs of around 18.

I fully expect them to upgrade their weapons first, to make up for their lousy to-hit rolls. 

J


----------



## Horacio

A neither of them has thought about a single level of cleric? 

The _cure light wounds_ would be very interesting  to them. Maybe it doesn't fit well their character concept, but maybe they could choose a suitable deity to their tastes...


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *A neither of them has thought about a single level of cleric?
> 
> The cure light wounds would be very interesting  to them. Maybe it doesn't fit well their character concept, but maybe they could choose a suitable deity to their tastes... *




Well, both are multiclassed already...Di'Fier would make his wizardly progression even worse by splitting into another spellcasting class, and Dru already has two non-favored classes, so she's got to keep them relatively even in terms of levels or suck up a non-insignificant XP penalty. Yep, I'm a mean DM - I haven't houseruled multiclassing! 

I think they're hoping for someone with healing ability as a cohort - both of them have made noises about taking the Leadership feat next level.  I must admit, the thought had crossed my mind to saddle them with a paladin/guard trainee, but a paladin wouldn't last long in Freeport...

Maybe I should run a 'Create a Cohort' contest...hmm...

J


----------



## Thorntangle

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Maybe I should run a 'Create a Cohort' contest...hmm...
> *



Leadership is a great and powerful thing.  It might be justified in a campaign with only 2 players.  It's not too remote a possibility that they could have a run of bad luck and both go down.  Party over (no pun intended).

Would you choose and run the cohort as an NPC or let them control him/her?

Cohort ideas:
*The Rookie* - Newly assigned to the beat.  She's young.  She's green.  She's an edgy, hardnosed dwarf with a taste for the hard stuff.  Together they fight crime!

*Reformed Criminal* - D & D have busted this roguish scamp too many times to count.  He's annoyingly enthusiastic but he listens to the heartbeat of the street.  He knows the dark alleys and the underground organizations.  He's a marked man and lovin' it!

*The Novitiate* - He's on a mission from god to help the citizens of Freeport, even if it means crawling through the gutters to do it.  It's his duty to spend 5 years on the street helping the masses and dishing out holy, two-fisted justice.  If they can't be saved, evil-doers will end up on the business end of his mace!


----------



## drnuncheon

OK, a couple of positive responses is all it takes!  Here it is:

drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour: Create-a-Cohort Contest

Enter once, enter many times...I'll read them until my eyes glaze over and my brain melts out my ears.

Thorn: I'd be playing them, of course!  Dru and Di'Fier would go too easy on each other, and besides, I want the players to be able to concentrate on their own characters.  (Aren't I the epitome of kindness and selflessness?)

Taking Leadership has been a running joke for a while, ever since Di'Fier (?) looked at the feat and said, "This is an unofficial investigation that we are in charge of..."

J
...besides, they're about due for a promotion, they haven't upset Captain Donnach in...oh, three or four days...


----------



## Atticus_of_Amber

*Multiclassing penalties*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Well, both are multiclassed already...Di'Fier would make his wizardly progression even worse by splitting into another spellcasting class, and Dru already has two non-favored classes, so she's got to keep them relatively even in terms of levels or suck up a non-insignificant XP penalty. Yep, I'm a mean DM - I haven't houseruled multiclassing!
> 
> I think they're hoping for someone with healing ability as a cohort - both of them have made noises about taking the Leadership feat next level.  I must admit, the thought had crossed my mind to saddle them with a paladin/guard trainee, but a paladin wouldn't last long in Freeport...
> 
> Maybe I should run a 'Create a Cohort' contest...hmm...
> 
> J *




In my campaign, I haven't house ruled multiclassing, but I have come up with a "solution". In many cases in 3e, whenever there is an inconvenient rule, there is a way around it with a feat. Here's what I've done.



*NEW GENERAL FEAT: ADDITIONAL FAVOURED CLASS* 

You are more able than most to keep up with more than one profession.

*Benefit:* You may choose one class to be an _additional_ favoured class for you. You don't count levels in that class for the purposes of calculating XP penalties for multiclassing. You must choose an actual core character class for this feat (i.e. you cannot choose "any").

*Note:* You may take this feat multiple times. Each time it adds another additional favoured class, which doesn't count towards calculating multiclassing XP penalties.

*Example* Bimpnotten Breakthing is a gnome druid/illusionist level 3/1. In order to qualify for a particular home brew prestige class, she needs to take at least one level in rogue. To avoid taking a multiclassing penalty for the greater than two levels difference between her druid and rogue levels (illusionist levels don't count because illusionist is the gnome favoured class), she takes the feat Additional Favoured Class (Rogue). Now she discounts both her rogue and her illusionist levels when calculating her multiclassing XP penalty.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eight, Part One: A Delivery for Devlin*

_*DM Note*: We're in the land of frequent short updates for a while, as work is rather hectic.  I'll grab time to update when I can, since I don't want to fall any farther behind than I already am.  We may be doing a long session this Saturday again, depending on how the Friday website launch goes..._


"We've got a package for Devlin." The tough-looking elf tossed a small leather bag lightly in her hand as she spoke.

The innkeeper's son didn't even bother looking up from where he was lazily cleaning his nails with a short knife. "You kin leave it here."

Now the human with her cut in. "We're supposed to give it to him directly."

A shrug. "Ain't seen 'm in a couple weeks.  You kin wait if y'want."

The elf frowned. Then she set her hand down on the wooden desk. Something made a dull metallic sound. "Maybe we could take it up to his room for him." Her hand moved slightly, and she tapped her finger on the silvery coin that was revealed.

Now, the eyes moved - they stayed locked on the coin. "Up the hall on the left. Room 3."

But even as the Watchmen climbed the stairs, a shape slipped from the front room out into the streets...






"Look at all the dust," Di'Fier complained as they entered the room.  "Looks like it hasn't been used for longer than two weeks..."

"Maybe...maybe not..." Dru crossed the room with a frown, inspecting the bookshelves.  

Behind her, Di'Fier mumbled something in the arcane tongue of mages. "Nothing magical," he said after a few moments of concentration, wandering around the room.  "Looks like it was our man - er, snake - all right."  He bent down to the mass of pillows on the floor and held up a large patch of scaly skin.

Dru continued to study the bookshelves.  "There's something not right.  Some of these books aren't dusty like the others...and they don't fit in, either.  Volumes of elvish poetry in the middle of books on architecture...someone's already been through the room."

Her partner sighed.  "Maybe they missed something?" he asked, without much hope.  Turning to the other shelves, he studied a collection of oddly misshapen jars. "Wonder what's in these...gah!"

Dru spun around. "What is it?"

"Whatever's in there...it moved."

As the two Watchmen looked on, a shape floated into view through the black syrup in the jar - an albino cave rat.  A _living_ albino cave rat.  Di'Fier cautiously set the jar back on the shelf.  "I guess there's nothing else here."

"Wait a moment."  Dru crossed the room to a bookshelf on the far wall. "Looks like a book fell back here." She pulled it free from its dusty prison and looked at it. "_An Accounte of Metals Base and Pure_," she read. "Must have been back there a while." Dust billowed up from the pages as she flipped through them. "Over my head.  Wait...what's this?"

Di'Fier joined her in looking at the book.  On the back flyleaf was a sketch covered with geometric lines, notations and equations.  "That looks like the lighthouse," Di'Fier said. "But I have no idea what the arrows pointing to the different parts of it mean."

"Look at the symbol in the margin, though," Dru said.  "A V in a circle."

Her eyes met her partner's.  As one, they said: "Councillor Verlaine."






The pair came down from the second floor, Dru with the book tucked under her arm.  "Thanks," she said dryly to the kid behind the desk. "Very helpful. I'm sure Devlin will appreciate it."

As Di'Fier pushed open the door to leave, though, Dru's ears picked up sounds that set her hackles on edge.  Any citizen of Freeport knows the sound of a fight, and a Freeport Watchman doubly so. The two burst through the door to assess the situation.

Three massive, tusked orcs had a young boy surrounded - a messenger, from the looks of the satchel that he clung to like a shipwrecked pirate to a floating beam.  The rough laughter of the three humanoids echoed in the narrow street, but underneath it was the whisper of drawn blades.  And then, a clear elven voice rang out over the scene:

"Hey! Pig-boys!"


----------



## drnuncheon

*Phew. That was exhausting.*

Just woke up after recovering from a marathon 10-hour Saturday session of Dru and Di'Fier - which means that I'm now even farther behind in the writeups. I've got eight pages of notes from that session alone (doubling my backlog!), and since the most recent writeup was from less than a page, there's a lot of material to get through.  (On the other hand, the website launch went off with barely a hitch, so my life might calm down a bit.)

Let me tell you, faithful readers, that Dru and Di'Fier were on _fire_ last night. (Sometimes literally.) Criminal wizards, fanatic assassins, frame-ups, betrayals, deathtraps, shocking revelations, and the highest body count ever!  In those ten hours they managed to fight their way through the rest of *Terror in Freeport* and most of "Thirds of Purloined Vellum".

For those of you considering an entry into the 'Create a Cohort' contest, start working those pencils, because this double session pushed them all the way up to 6th level - and they're going to need the backup...

J


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Phew. That was exhausting.*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *For those of you considering an entry into the 'Create a Cohort' contest, start working those pencils, because this double session pushed them all the way up to 6th level - and they're going to need the backup...
> 
> J *




O.K., I have almost finished two cohorts, a cleric and a paladin, I will submit them next week. I think they need the healing power...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Phew. That was exhausting.*



			
				Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> O.K., I have almost finished two cohorts, a cleric and a paladin, I will submit them next week. I think they need the healing power... *




We will also begin taking bets on how long the paladin will last in a city like Freeport... 

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eight, Part Two: Some Unlikely Bibliophiles*

_Still in the Land of Short Updates - I'll try to throw these up more often at least, so I can catch up to the current time.  Look for more (hopefully) Monday!_

*Dru*

"Hey! Pig-boys!" Dru stood with a mocking grin in the doorway of the Marquis Moon, book tucked under one arm and blade held lazily in her hand.  Behind her, her partner was already incanting the words of his _mage armor_ spell, summoning the eldritch protective forces around him.  As the orcs' attention turned to the pair of Watchmen, the messenger slipped to the side, away from the fight.

Dru lifted her blade and advanced, slipping it easily past the creature's feeble guard and into the flesh of its arm.  Bright blood jetted from the wound as the blade slid back.  Then her partner joined the fray as well, his massive battle-blade nicking another one of the ruffians.  These wounds only served to redouble the orcs' resolve: greataxes were hefted and the air rang with metal on metal as the guardsmen were forced back before their opponent's mightly blows.  Dru's rapier was not enough to turn aside one of the weapons, and it bit into her shoulder, sending blood flowing down her arm and loosening her grasp on...

_The book!_ Dru thought as the tome was pulled from her numbed fingers.  Twisting in surprise, she saw the messenger spin and run from her, the evidence they had found clutched to his chest. "Di'Fier!" she roared, diving out of the path of an orcish axe. "It's a setup! He's got the book!"  Her partner growled, and his mighty swing clove deep into the orc that had wounded her. The black raven that had been circling the battle banked and winged its way towards the running boy - but there was no way for the bird to stop him. Dru hesitated only a moment, and then she began to run. A blade whistled over her head as she bent almost parallel to the street and chased the so-called "messenger". Behind her, she could hear a cry of pain as an axe slammed into Di'Fier. _Just hold them off, Di'Fier,_ she thought fiercely. _I'll be back - but I'm not letting this lead go!_

Behind her, she could hear the gutteral tongue of the orcs: <<I'll take care of him, get the female!>> Dru redoubled her efforts to catch up to the messenger, abandoning everything but speed...when suddenly, the boy stopped dead in his tracks and whirled. Dru saw the knife glint in his hand almost too late.  Even as it was, the blade dug into her side as she twisted frantically away. Gritting her teeth against the pain, the elf lashed out with her blade, opening a deep gash across the boy's face.

Half-blind from blood and pain, the messenger howled: "The Brotherhood will make you pay!" As it happened, his knife was not to be the instrument by which such payment would be exacted - unless it was empty air to which his threat was addressed, of course. Dru could hear the thundering feet of the orcs chasing her - and behind them, Di'Fier chasing the orcs.  She spun, just in time to avoid the pair of massive axeblades aimed at her.  Then Di'Fier slammed into them from behind, his blade biting deep into one of them. "Dru! He's getting away!" cried the Watchman.

The elf whirled back and saw that it was true. She lunged with her blade, striking the boy in the leg, but by the time she had recovered, he was half-limping, half-running again. Dru took a few steps after him, and then her hand dropped to her belt. A half-pound of razor-sharp steel whirled through the air and into the fleeing messenger's back, and he spilled forward onto the cobblestones, still sprawled across the book.  In an instant, Dru was beside him, rolling the body away and snatching up the book. _It's nice to know we're on the right track,_ she thought as she turned back to the fight.

Di'Fier sent one of the orcs crashing to the ground even as Dru advanced on the other. The orc turned to deal with this new threat, batting away her thrust, but splitting his limited attention proved to be his undoing, as the Watch-mage's heavy blade took him across the spine.  _Where's the last?_ Dru thought for a moment - until she saw the crumpled body in front of the inn. _Good. All accounted for._

"They must have seen us go up to Milos' room," Di'Fier said, kicking one of the bodies over onto its back as he cleaned his blade. "Looks like the cult had it staked out just in case they left something behind.  What are we going to say in our report?"

Dru shrugged, digging in her pouch for some potions to close her wounds. "They resisted arrest.  More important, what are we going to do with this book?  I don't want to leave it with your family - that would put them in danger."

Di'Fier smiled. "Tear out that last page and keep it with you. I've got an idea."


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Re: Re: Phew. That was exhausting.*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> We will also begin taking bets on how long the paladin will last in a city like Freeport...
> 
> J *




Well, not all Paladins are the zealot typical L++++G D&D paladin, a LG++++ paladin can do it... I hope


----------



## Krellic

It would certainly give our heroes a mix of warfare and healing to pick up  paladin.  How about an urban druid...?


----------



## Horacio

A "rat shaman" like in Shadowrun! Good idea!


----------



## DiFier

I was hoping for an Urban Ranger (Dr. N knows what book it is in)


----------



## Horacio

DiFier said:
			
		

> *I was hoping for an Urban Ranger (Dr. N knows what book it is in) *




But an urban ranger couln't heal you, and IMHO as reader, you need some healing companion...


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> But an urban ranger couln't heal you*




Not till he hit 8th level, anyway...

More update tonight.  Mmm, update.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eight, Part Three: "Did he resemble a snake in any way?"*

_I promised more update, and I deliver...enjoy!_

*Di'Fier*

Dru frowned as they exited the messenger service. "I don't get it. That was your address. We could have just taken it there ourselves."

Di'Fier grinned at his partner. "They won't deliver it until tomorrow. That means its out of our hands until then, and it'll distract whoever's trying to take it from us.  Now let's go wander past the abandoned temple..."







"OK, OK, I got one.  How do you tell a Watch funeral?  They have to bury the mourners too! Haw haw haw!"

Di'Fier looked over at his partner.  He knew that expression - if he didn't stop her she was going to go put Verlaine's men through the wall they were leaning against. "Look," he murmured. "It's almost time for our shift.  Let's go get some food and then check in at headquarters. We can come back and deal with these clowns later."






"Day shift?" Di'Fier asked. "But why?"  They hadn't been on day shift for years.

The Watch-Captain looked at him levelly across the stack of paperwork on his desk. "Your merchant, this, ah..." Glancing down at the paper: "Kathkallan. He's expressed some concern that you won't be able to pursue the investigation if you're walking the beat every night. Until you solve the case you're on detective duty, and that means day shift. Any other questions? No? All right, get out of my office."  Donnach looked down at his papers for a moment, then back up. "By the way, that's effective _tomorrow_. You're still on duty tonight."

The pair left the office, discussing their next move. "Maybe we should ask the beggars," Dru mused. "Go take them some pastries or something.  They might have seen him."

Di'Fier nodded. "Good idea. Maybe we can find that Jemmis guy - he owes us, and he might have heard soemthing."

The pair proceeded to the run-down warehouse that housed the beggars.  As before, their arrival caused the rapid dispersal of all but the crippled spokesman, who stumped forward on his crutch. "What is it, then?"

"We're looking for a missing person," Di'Fier said, as Dru casually dropped off the bag of food. "A journeyman, first time in the big city..." He quickly sketched a picture of the missing youth with his words, but the old man shook his head. "They don't allow us into the Merchant's Quarter, and he's not been down to the docks. Did you check the brothels?"

"We did," said Dru. "Thanks anyway.  How's Echo?"

The old man sighed, and seemed to sag into his crutch a bit. "We haven't seen her for days.  The only thing I know is that she's not with Tovin.  If you see her..."  He left the rest of the sentence unsaid, except for a hopeful look in his eye.

The Watchmen nodded, but Dru frowned as she left.


*Jemmis*

Jemmis sat alone in the Rusty Hook, nursing his drink.  _There goes the last of it_, he thought ruefully. _Maybe I should have taken that job after all..._

The people to either side of the erstwhile smuggler vacated their seats with somewhat greater haste than normal. As Jemmis looked around, they were replaced by a different pair - a pair wearing the copper badges of the Freeport City Watch. _How could they know I was even thinking about it?!_

"Evening, Jemmis." The elf gave him a feral grin.  He looked the other way, to her human partner. At least he didn't grin like that.

"We're looking for a missing person," the Watchman said, giving a brief description.

"N-no," Jemmis said. "I haven't seen him." A hand on his shoulder made him pause, and swallow.

"Are you certain?"

He nodded. _They're not going to believe me!_ he thought wildly. _I'd better tell them something..._. "But...there was this guy.  I dunno if its related or not, but he was trying to hire some guys for a..." _What had he called it?_ "A 'pigeon pinch'.  On some merchant." _Oh, now you've gone and stepped in it, Jemmis_ he thought, as the pair leaned forward with interest.

"A pigeon pinch?" said the man. "What's that?"

"It's, ah, it's a distraction. To get something from a courier.  One group of guys distracts them while the other group grabs the stuff.  I guess they call it that in Highgate, anyway."

From behind him, the elf: "And just who was hiring for this 'pigeon pinch'?"

Jemmis shrugged. "I didn't get a name.  Some fat sweaty guy, he wanted to meet us at the Silent Siren."  The hand on his shoulder slowly rotated him to face the elf - exactly where he didn't want to be.

"Did he have a penchant for snakes?" she asked.

Jemmis blinked in puzzlement.  "Ah...no?"

"Did he resemble a snake in any way?"

_This is getting weird._ "Do you see many fat, sweaty snakes around?" _Oh, gods, that was the ale talking, I hope I didn't p--s her off..._  Still, the hand on his shoulder slowly released.

"Thanks, Jemmis," the man said, laying his hand casually on the bar in front of the smuggler.  "You've been very helpful."  When the hand moved, there was a glint of gold in front of him. Jemmis' eyes widened, and he swept it into his lap as the Watchmen departed.  _Gods, I hope nobody saw that..._


*Di'Fier*

As they left the Rusty Hook, Dru grumbled. "Too bad we can't leave our beat."

Di'Fier looked up and down the deserted docks. "The captain _did_ tell us to investigate..."

A few minute's walk later, they arrived in front of the Silent Siren.  "Stupid name for a tavern," Dru said. "What good is a silent siren?"  Her partner pushed the door open and they entered.  The elf kept up her grousing: "Look at all of this. It's not even in the harbor."

It was tacky, Di'Fier had to admit.  Coral statues of mermaids, nautical "memorabilia" hung on the walls, and a bar made to resemble a ship's prow, complete with figurehead.  The only virtue the Watchman could detect was the large number of small tables scattered so as to allow private conversation.  From the clientele, it seemed like the Siren catered to merchants, and gave them a place to conduct business while they ate and drank.

Di'Fier leaned on the bar, signalled the bartender. He tapped a coin on the bar.  "I'm looking for a man named Arrasti.  Is he here?"

The bartender waited until the coin was in his hand before he shook his head. "The cosmetics guy? He don't come here."

"Thanks."


*Dru*

_Why did we go there if we were just going to ask about Arrasti?_ Dru racked her brain for reasons as they walked down the docks, but eventually decided that Di'Fier knew what he was doing.  She began looking around, hoping someone would attack them.  They always found their best clues that way. _Let's hope the criminals never learn._

The sharp tang of blood in the air brought her senses to full alert.  She paused, and Di'Fier did as well. "Blood," she said, and he nodded.  _No sounds of a fight, but it must be pretty recent._ The elf let her eyes roam across the scene to find anything out of place...there. In the alley.  "This way," she told her partner, and they approached cautiously, their pool of lantern-light sliding across the cobbled streets with them, until the source of the blood was revealed.

The corpse lay spread-eagled on its back. The cause of death was clear: the breastbone had been cracked, the ribs torn open and folded back, and the heart had been torn from the body.  It was nowhere to be found.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eight, Part Four: "The fat man is not always fat."*

_The last of session eight...only two behind now, but one of those is a double-length session...and we play tomorrow.  Yikes!_


As they waited for their backup, the Watchmen studied the corpse intently.  Dru stepped forward.  "What's this in the blood?  Looks like...sand. All different colors, too."

Di'Fier looked up. "What's that?"

"Sand.  And there's a worn spot on his belt, like where you'd keep a money pouch, except his money pouch is still there."

"That doesn't make any sense...but there's magic involved.  It looked like there were runes drawn with the blood, but they were wiped out as the blood spread."

The clatter of hard-soled boots announced the arrival of their backup: Jaffar and Mahmoud, neither of whom looked happy at the prospect of carrying the bloody mess back to headquarters.  Captain Donnach was waiting for them at the end of their grim journey.  He listened to the report impassively, then looked at the backup Watchmen. "Jaffar, Mahmoud - keep an eye on the corpse.  I want to know if it so much as twitches."  Looking back to Dru and Di'Fier he said, "Don't forget, you're on tomorrow morning. Go get some sleep."






*Dru*

"Aye, it's to make ye stealthy, that's true.  But it's strange work, it is." The dwarven alchemist frowned as she studied the tiny vial. "Doesn't use all the right ingredients."

Dru nodded. "That's what I thought.  A gnome was trying to brew them for less, and he was experimenting with the ingredients.  Winds up driving the users insane.  I've got a bunch of potions he made..."

"Might be I'd know some folk who'd like to take a look at them," the dwarf admitted.

"I wasn't planning on using them," Dru shrugged, placing the vials on the counter. Turning to her partner, she said, "Come on, Di'Fier, it's time to get to work."

The pair strolled out of the alchemist's and towards the market. "Strange to be doing all of this by daylight," Dru muttered.

"It'll make it easier to find these people, anyway. There's Greater Galleon," Di'Fier pointed.  "Kathkallan said that was where he had the option on vanilla beans.  Looks like they're popular."

Indeed, a number of people were gathered around the stall, shouting and waving their hands.  Atop a small dais, a man held a bean aloft and worked the crowd, driving the price upwards in an auction.

"A thousand pieces of gold for _how_ many pounds?" Di'Fier asked.

Dru's sharp hearing had caught the winning price. "Four.  That's two hundred and fifty a pound...and the option was on how many pounds?"

Di'Fier paused a moment before answering, softly: "Two hundred, which means that contract is worth...fifty thousand pieces of gold."  The Watchmen exchanged a glance.

_No wonder he wants it back so badly,_ thought Dru, as they started towards the merchant.






"All right, let's review." Di'fier frowned as he walked beside his partner in the long shadows of the setting sun.  "The journeyman made it to Greater Galleon, and set up a meeting.  He made it to Arrasti's, and set up a meeting.  He was heading to the Platinum Quill, and never made it."

"I think the merchant at Greater Galleon was lying," grumbled Dru. "Anybody that rude must be hiding something.  Where are we going, anyway?"

"I thought I'd do some research on spells that use colored sand as a material component," said the mage.  "It might help clear up what was going on there..."

"I'll wait out here," said Dru, standing under the eave of a nearby building.  She watched her partner vanish into the Guild grounds, and let her thoughts wander. _It doesn't make sense...we're missing something.  Where could he have gone between Greater Galleon and the Quill?_

The touch of cold steel on her neck interrupted her thoughts. "Don't turn around," a soft voice offered. "I have some information for you. One of the people you spoke with today is lying.  The fat man is not always fat.  Find the woman that the journeyman was with, and you will find what you are looking for."

Dru felt the blade leave the back of her neck, and she whirled - but whoever it was, he was already gone. _He was speaking Elven,_ she realized belatedly, and her gaze fell to the street where the man had been standing.

"It's _color spray_," Di'Fier called out as he exited the building.  "It can knock someone out or blind them, and...what's that?"

Dru turned around, holding what she had found behind her: a solitary, deep red, rose.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Nine, Part One: "How many Watchmen does it take to light a candle?"*

_Well, as Thorntangle pointed out, I have been sadly remiss in my updating...I can only plead exhaustion from my work - we're doing a major software upgrade that comes directly on the heels of a huge website redesign.  In fact, no Freeport this Friday for us...but with any luck there'll be a double session on Saturday.  

I can only say that when this is over, I expect to shift into high gear - especially with Mongoose's The Quintessential Rogue in my possession, and the impending release of Freeport: City of Adventure! In any case, here's another (short) update...don't forget to check out and enter the Create a Cohort contest over in the Rogue's Gallery._

*Di'Fier*

"You're _sure_ he said that there was a woman with our missing journeyman?" the tall mage asked his partner for the third time.  Seeing her expression, he continued: "It's just that nobody seems to have seen him with one."

Dru scowled at some passing merchants, perhaps hoping to frighten them into a confession. She was rewarded with nervous looks, but nothing more. "He also said that someone was lying to us. I bet it was that Zahad, from Greater Galleon. Nobody's that rude unless they're hiding something."

"Well, we've still got the tavern to check," said Di'Fier.  "Maybe they saw something there."

Dru shoved the door open, grumbling once again about the institution's choice of a name, and stalked across the floor to drop into a seat at the bar. She scowled at everyone - the merchant patrons, the bar wenches, even the carved mermaid figurehead.  Her partner followed, trying to lighten the mood with a nervous grin.

"Two ales," he told the bartender.  After the mugs were filled, he leaned across the bar.  "We're looking for a missing journeyman," he said with a wink. "He might have been in here, a few days ago...with a young lady?"  He described the missing boy, and the bartender nodded slowly.

"Aye, I remember him. Took off with one of those orchid girls from the Street of Flowers, he did."

"Really." Dru looked at her partner.  The Street of Flowers was well known for its collection of high-priced courtesans.  "There was someone else we were looking for as well...a fat man, bald, sweats all the time, even in this weather."

With the elf's full attention on him, the bartender looked a little bit nervous. "Y-yes, he was in here as well.  Kelp leaving, about once an hour, then coming back.  He was talking with some thugs - we usually don't like that kind in here, but he kept buying drinks, so I figured it was his business."

"You've been very helpful." Di'Fier pushed a few coins across the table - far more than was necessary to pay for the drinks. "Let us know if he comes back here again."


*Dru*

"So we found the woman," Dru mused - her earlier ill mood faded, at least slightly, by the prospect of new challenges (and with any luck, new targets). "But why is the fat man not always fat?"

"I think it's a spell," Di'Fier said cautiously. "That would explain why he kept having to leave - he was renewing the spell.  That mean's he's got at least a bit of magical training, or he's spending a fortune on potions."

The pair walked slowly between the terraced gardens that gave the Street of Flowers its name.  Even in the dying days of winter, the flowers were in full bloom - if such a term can be applied to the cunningly crafted silken replicas that populated the gardens.  "I don't see her," said Di'Fier.

Dru walked up to one of the ladies who was strolling along the street. Her eyes checked for the orchid brooch before she proceeded.  "We're looking for a woman who lives on this street. Long, black hair, petite.  She may have met a client at the Silent Siren a few days ago."  A few coins changed hands, and the courtesan pointed them up the street.






"Yes, that would have been Zinni."  The woman paused in the brushing of her hair to look over the two Watchmen.  "And you say this journeyman's been missing for how many days now?  I haven't seen her in that long, either." She looked away from the elf's steady gaze.  "She had a client - from Highgate, he was, all doused in cologne and with the mainland accent. Called himself Gil.  He'd been seeing her for about a month, and he was all she could talk about.  She said he hired her to meet a friend of his at the Siren and lure him to a private garden for a 'surprise'.

The watchmen looked at each other. "I expect that when we find our journeyman, we'll find your friend," Di'Fier began.  "But it's very possible that she ran afoul of this Gil and his associates.

The courtesan nodded sadly. "I'm sorry," she said. "I've got an appointment and I must prepare for it. Please, see yourselves out."  With those words she quickly disappeared behind a dressing screen.  As they closed the door behind them, Dru could almost hear a single, choked sob.


*Di'Fier*

"Nothing," croaked the harsh voice of the raven as it fluttered back to its customary perch on the pommel of Di'Fier's sword.  "Empty."

"Maybe we should check it out again anyway," said the bird's master, walking towards the Marquis Moon. Dru followed warily behind him.

Behind the counter was the same bored young man as before, still cleaning his nails with a dull knife.  "'nother package, huh?" he said laconically, his tone indicating that he neither believed nor cared about the answer he was going to be given.

"That's right. We'll just take it up."

The room was indeed deserted - and unchanged from the last time the pair had investigated it.  "I wonder if they're still watching the place," mused Dru.

Di'Fier plucked a tiny idol from the shelf. "I suppose there's one way to find out," he said, regarding it. "This looks just like the statue that was in the temple.  Speaking of which, we ought to go check it out tonight. Maybe we can sneak in and find out what's happening.  I'll bet poor Egil is scared witless."

"All right, let's go."






Dru and Di'Fier huddled in the alley, safely out of sight - or so they hoped.  The three guards in Verlaine's livery leaned against the wall of the bricked-up house, passing a hand-rolled cigarette back and forth.  The voice of one drifted out across the empty streets.

"How many watchmen does it take to light a candle? Nine! One to light it...and eight pallbearers!  Haw haw haw!"

"Maybe we can disguise ourselves as workmen," suggested Di'Fier.

"Maybe we can feed them their own swords," his partner responded.

"Shh...they're moving."  One guard wandered around the perimeter of the house in each direction.  The third waited until the others had turned the corner, and then strolled across the street.  After a few moments, Dru could hear the sound of a thin stream of splashing water.

The elf reached into her tunic and withdrew a small vial, as her partner did the same with a rolled sheet of parchment.  As she drank, he chanted, and the two Watchmen faded from view.  Only the occasional kicked rock or scuffed foot marked their passage as they snuck past the guard and crossed to the door.

Fluttering down the street, the raven croaked once. "Hey," it said clearly, and the guard's head turned to look at it. "Hey. S--thead.  Haw!" It hopped and fluttered back a few feet.

"Damn bird..." the guard took a few steps towards it, and it fluttered back some more.  As it did, Dru slipped the door open easily, and the Watchmen entered.

The abandoned house was much the same as the last time they had seen it.  In the basement, the secret door in the wine cask was propped open, and Dru and Di'Fier crept inside.

The temple below was as abandoned as the house above.  Stripped of its valuables - indeed, of everything.  Dru and Di'Fier made their invisible way slowly down the hall, to the great chamber where the massive statue of the Unspeakable One once squatted.  That, too was gone - even the Yellow Sign which had once adorned the cavern wall was chipped away and destroyed.  Whoever had cleaned the place up was thorough about it.  All was still and silent.

Silent, at least, until the faint grinding of stone alerted the Watchmen to the opening of the secret door - the same one they had ambushed Milos from. The pair spun, hands going instinctively to their weapons, as a pair of ophidian creatures swayed forward from the darkness, spears clutched in their hands, split-ribbon tongues licking out to taste the air.  One stretched its maw, the long fangs unfolding from the top of its mouth, and hissed.

It seemed the cleanup of the temple had not gone well at all.


----------



## Paka

*Been gone a while...*

Had my internet acess limited for a while and haven't been able to read Story Hours for a while.

Wow, Doc, your Story Hour has blossomed since I was last here.  I just read the last page after being gone a while and was right back into it.

Nice stuff.

I'll have to go back and read about what happened those three or so pages between then and now.


----------



## drnuncheon

Hey guys, thaksfor the kind words!  

But Paka, shouldn't you be writing your own Story Hour?   We've got to get some literary goodness in here to balance all this pulpy adventure.

Horacio, glad you're enjoying the Hawk & Fisher books.

I'm currently engaged in negotiations with my employer to find out if there will be any Freeport this weekend (read: trying to find out if I have to work on Saturday or not!) so stay tuned...

J


----------



## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *I'm currently engaged in negotiations with my employer to find out if there will be any Freeport this weekend (read: trying to find out if I have to work on Saturday or not!) so stay tuned...
> 
> J *




I hope you had a Freport weekend instead of a woek one...


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I hope you had a Freport weekend instead of a woek one... *




Sadly, no...the closest I came to Freeport was driving down Freeport Road for about a hundred yards today.  18 hours on Friday, 10 more on Saturday, only to have to back out the entire software upgrade because it turns out it was incompatible with a Solaris patch on our production server (that wasn't installed on the server we had done all our testing on)...and me with root access but not allowed to go in and remove the darn thing.

We get to try again next Friday.  Yaay.  Let's hope it doesn't spill over into Saturday again.

This does mean that all of you entering the Create a Cohort contest (see rules in the Rogues Gallery!) will have some more time before I need those NPCs...since I've only heard from one person...

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Nine, Part Two: Speaking of the Unspeakable One...*

_Well, I see that I have fallen off the front page...this will not do!  So, here's a mid-week update as I take a break from planning Swagfest and the Lighthouse Ball with Sea Lord Drac.  He's quite keen to see you all there...oh, and Captain Donnach wants me to pass along that they're always looking for  new Watch recruits._

*Dru*

The serpentmen moved sinuously forward, their heads swaying back and forth as they licked the air.  The Watchmen split up, creeping towards the secret door left ajar by the creatures.  The abominations looked at each other, and then began to slink back to their cavern.  Dru snuck down the tunnel ahead of them, while Di'Fier barely managed to slip through the door before it closed.

Two more of the serpent people waited, standing to either side of a heavy wooden crate.  A robed figure, the cowl thrown back to reveal short, dirty blonde hair, frowned at the serpentmen.  "Well?"

"Sssmelled them...could not sssee them..."

The answer did not please the woman, who looked around the cavern.  Turning to the other pair, she snapped, "Bring the crate." Her reptilian servitors bent to do just that, but Dru had other things in mind.  Her unseen hands nocked a deadly arrow to her shortbow, and she let fly from point blank range, the shaft sinking deep into the muscular shoulder of the woman. Even as the elf faded into visibility, she was discarding her bow and drawing her blade to fend off the attacks of the serpentman warriors.  Twisting out of the way of the javelins hurled at her, she whirled, her blade finding a soft spot on the closest creature's scales.  Dark blood arced through the dim light to spatter on the uneven cavern floor.

Di'Fier, for his part, had drawn his massive sword, and begun incanting the mystical syllables that would shield him from harm more effectively than his leather jerkin. Meanwhile, the woman held up a three-armed golden pendant - the Yellow Sign.  "_Do not think to stand against the power of the Unspeakable One!_" she roared.

Dru could feel the woman's will battering against her own, trying to send her into panicked flight.  The priestess seemed to loom over her, a massive, invincible presence...but the elf merely narrowed her eyes. _I refuse to run from someone a third my age,_ she growled to herself. _Sorry, b---h, but my father's had three centuries to practice. You don't even come close._  The priestess seemed to dwindle, and Dru smirked as she parried the spear thrust at her by one of the woman's minions.

Unluckily for her, though, the second of the creatures was swifter with its weapon. A line of red opened on Dru's arm as she threw herself desperately out of the way of the blow. _Can't let her distract me..._ she thought, twisting inside the serpentman's guard and thrusting her blade up through the bottom of its jaw, transfixing the brain.  Shoving the corpse off of her blade, she could see the other two serpentmen scrambling over the crate they had dropped.  

Dimly, she heard words being shouted, in Di'Fier's voice, and then two shimmers, like heatwaves in the air.  One resolved itself into the form of her partner, while the other expanded and then erupted into flame, rolling towards the serpent creatures and scattering them.

The woman continued to hold aloft her Yellow Sign.  "Unspeakable One! Let your power rob my foes of their skill!" 

Dru could feel a presence around her, a suffocating dread that made her falter momentarily. She gritted her teeth and spat, "For someone who's Unspeakable, his servants sure go on about him a lot." She could hear Di'Fier's laugh, and chuckled herself. Again it was the priestess' turn to falter, as the spell collapsed around her.

But then her shoulder erupted in pain. _Damn! Let her get to me again!_ Dru tried to ignore the blood flowing from the bite, so close to her neck...tried to ignore the flickers and movement at the edges of her vision.  She lunged forward and struck the serpentman before it had a chance to pull fully back, and it crashed to the floor.

She looked up, her vision swirling and her thoughts hazy. One of the remaining creatures was blackening under the sphere of flame that Di'Fier had conjured, and the other was falling to the floor, leaving only a blackish stain on her partner's blade.  All that remained was the priestess, holding aloft her sigil as if it could protect her from the angry Guardsmen.

"Unspeakable One!" The woman swallowed nervously as she looked at the two. "Blind their eyes and shield my escape!"

A cold mist began to rise from the ground, filling the tunnel. In moments, it was nearly impossible for Dru to see the end of her blade.  A moving flicker of light and the hiss of evaporating water marked the path of Di'Fier's flaming sphere, as it burned its way through the fog a short distance before expiring.

"I think she's gone," said her partner, his voice echoing eerily through the fog-shrouded cavern.  "But there's no way she could have taken that crate.  Let's go see what's in it."

The pair crept slowly down the tunnel, Dru's ears straining to detect what her eyes could not.  All she heard was a muffled curse from Di'Fier as he slammed his shin into something solid.

"I found the crate," he muttered, rubbing his leg.

The wooden crate had been wrenched partially open when it was dropped, and Dru was able to yank the top open far enough to reach a hand in.  As she did, she saw that an address was stenciled on the crate.

 From: Bierce Vintners
 To: 100 Wave Avenue

Frowning, the elf reached inside the crate. Her hand closed around something cold and heavy. Pulling it out revealed an ornate golden chalice.  Di'Fier's eyebrows raised, and he thrust his own hand inside, only to emerge with...

"A _brick_?"


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Nine, Part Three: I Never Liked His Sense of Humor Anyways*

Three men crouched uncomfortably in the gloomy cellar, swords held loosely in their hands.  On the arm of each was a band bearing a circled V.  They conversed in hushed whispers.

"Are you sure they came down here?"

"Yeah, I'm sure.  I saw 'em watching us. They snuck in when I sent you guys 'round back."

"Batora was sure pissed at us for letting them in."

"Shut up."

"The boss will give us a big fat reward for taking care of them."

"Yeah, and we'll get back in his good graces."

"Shh! I hear 'em."

"Sounded like someone dropped a brick."

"Weymouth, go check it out."

A hesitation, and then one of the figures moved to the mouth of the open ale barrel. "I don't see anything."

"They've got to come out sometime."

A new voice floated up - from the cellar. "Forget Verlaine's men, they're idiots. Let's stay here and count the gold before we leave."

One of the men took a step forward, but the look he received from the leader of the band was enough to make him slink back to his hiding place.  

Another, longer pause, and then a face cautiously peered out from the dark circle of the oak cask.  With wolfish grins, Verlaine's men pounced.  

That was their first mistake.


----------



## drnuncheon

*While you wait for the next update...*

...why not check out a new Story hour?

_Because they'll all go read that one instead of this one._

Shh.

Go read  Gospog's Dying Earth Story Hour.  The man is utterly mad.  This is the same man who leapt aboard a jet-ski dressed as Godzilla, and participated in the _first_ time I ran Freeport, uttering the immortal words: "Did you think you were dealing with _sane_ people?"

Go read. Come back here tomorrow.

J

...why are you still here? don't you believe me? go!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Next time, on "Cops"...*

No update yet, but we _did_ play on Saturday - a game that was perhaps more suited for Hallowe'en than Easter weekend.  As Drac's lighthouse nears completion, things are getting even stranger than usual in Freeport, and our heros are in the midst of it.

This last session introduced a character who is 'trying out' for the cohort role - so if you're planning on entering the Create a Cohort contest, get the submissions to me this week! (If you've emailed me and I haven't responded, I wasn't ignoring you - it means I didn't get it!)  Until that point, Dru and Di'Fier get 'rotating cohorts' - some reader submissions, some existing NPCs.

Sadly, the other "temporary cohort" - Hallfred, the strongest guard in Freeport - was...well...you'll see.

I am going to make a concerted effort to catch up to the "present day" over the course of this week - I've got two extra-long sessions to cover, including:

* Tracking down the mastermind behind the stolen contracts - and the missing journeyman!

* A betrayal by the one person they thought they could trust!

* A nasty surprise at Councillor Verlaine's house!

* Bloodbath at the Temple of Knowledge!

and much, much more...and the action is not going to slow down as the city plunges into the dual celebration of Swagfest and the completion of the Lighthouse of Drac!

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part One: Decent, Law-Abiding Citizens?*

*Di'Fier*

"Look at this." The young guardsman turned the object over in his hands while his partner ate.  

"Look at what?"

"This brick has a seam around it."

A pause. "Bash it open."

For once, Di'Fier reflected, his partner might be on the right track.  Setting the brick down on the table, he pulled out his dagger and began working the mortar free.

With a grunt of disgust, Dru reached over and plucked the brick from in front of him.  "Hey!" he protested.

"Like this."  The elven guard's wiry muscles contracted, slamming the brick down into the table with a sharp _crack_.  The top of the brick split into two, and then the pieces fell away from the other half. Dru frowned. "It's solid all the way through. Why would you put a seam on a brick..."

Di'Fier interrupted her by reaching out for the broken halves. Tipping them over onto their sides, he fitted them back together, and both guardsmen looked down to see the sigil imprinted on the surface in golden ink: the symbol of the Unspeakable One...the Yellow Sign.






*Nine of the Clock - Warehouse District - the Hall of Records*

"Reed." Dru leaned over the stout man's desk with a small smile - one of her rare genuine ones. "How's it going?"

The man looked up from his stack of filing with a snarl - but it quickly changed to a wide grin when he saw who was in his office. "Dru...Di'Fier. I thought you was Verlaine's thugs come back again."

The Watchmen looked at each other. _There's something to come back to,_ thought Di'Fier as he took a step forward.  "We're looking for information on a man named Gil of Highgate.  Does he own any property in the city? Especially in the merchant's quarter...maybe near the Street of Flowers?"

Reed grunted, moved to one of the racks of papers as he quickly sorted through them. "I don't recall anyone from out of town owning land out there," he muttered, his blunt fingers flipping with surprising agility through the sheaves.

As he hunted on, Dru leaned up against the wall. "What did Verlaine's men want, anyway?"

Her question brought a derisive snort from the clerk. "They was lookin' for a map of the sewers. Wanted to know if they could get across the city underground, into the Merchant's Quarter.  'course they sealed all that off, locked it up so no theives or nothin' could get in.  Left marks all over my maps, too."  Finally he finished his searching. "Nope, no Gil of Highgate owns property 'round there," he said, with assurance.

Di'Fier pondered these new pieces of information. "Could we see that map that they were looking at?"

"Sure. I haven't even put it away yet."  The clerk unrolled it on top of the papers already on his desk, and jabbed at it. "Just look at that."

The pair dutifully followed his accusing finger - there was indeed a smudge, in the Eastern District.  Di'Fier looked at the street it was on. "That's where the temple was..."

Dru's finger traced along a faint crease in the map, a barely perceptible line threading its way through the tunnels under the city, until it reached its destination...in the Merchant's District.






*Ten of the Clock - Merchant's District*

*Dru*

Di'Fier lifted his hand, and the massive raven took to the air, circling as it rose, then winged its way across the city.

"Spruce will love that," Dru observed dryly. "He'll treat it like some kind of secret mission."

Di'Fier grinned. "I like to give him some excitement. Maybe this Gil person has a warrant out for his arrest somewhere..."

"All right. Let's go talk to some merchants." Unconsciously, Dru cracked her knuckles. "I'm sure that the decent, law-abiding citizens of Freeport would have no problem helping the Guard."  They hadn't taken more than a dozen steps before Dru nudged her partner.  Without speaking a word, the pair of them turned the corner and then waited.

The small man that Dru had spotted tailing them hurried around the corner, only to nearly collide with his quarry.  Dru smiled sweetly - the exact inverse of the smile she had given Reed earlier. "Can I help you?"

The man turned as pale as his dusky skin would allow. "Perhaps...perhaps it is _I_who can help _you_..."

Dru's brow furrowed. "Talk, and talk fast. I don't like being followed."

The man turned even more pale, if that were possible. "Perhaps...a more comfortable setting? A drink?"


*Merchant's District - The Trade Winds Tavern*

"My name is Gheldeig," the man began. "I am a moneychanger.  I heard that you were looking for a missing person."

The Guards nodded, slowly.  Dru leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, regarding the man coolly.

"You see, my booth is very near the Platinum Quill, and I could not help but overhear what the proprietor said to you," the man explained.  "But I did see the young man that you are looking for.  He met with Catellion, the owner of the Quill - they spent a good deal of time discussing their business, and then he signed some papers.  I couldn't hear what he said, but Catellion pointed him towards the Silent Siren."

"That is interesting," mused Di'Fier. "_Very_ interesting."

His partner leaned forward, as if finally taking an interest in the conversation. "You're near the Quill. Have you ever seen a short man, with dark hair in braids, smells of cologne all the time?"

"Yes...yes, I believe I have seen him at the Quill once or twice."

"Very interesting indeed.  You've been quite a help, Gheldeig."

The small man smiled. "As a decent, law-abiding citizen of this city, it was my pleasure."






*Eleven of the Clock - Merchant's District*

"This is the place," said Dru.

"What is? This booth?"

The elf nodded. "The woman who works here is a shuffler - she buys and sells stolen paperwork.  Chances are if they're trying to sell the contracts, she'll have heard of it."

The young woman looked up, and when she spotted Dru her eyes widened.  Before the pair could even speak, she said in a quavering voice, "You're here about the contracts.  I haven't bought them."

Dru frowned.  Usually people didn't react like that until _after_ she tried to intimidate them. It was a little disconcerting.  She closed her mouth and composed herself, then demanded, "Why not?"

This was the second time that day that her innocent questions caused someone to nearly fly into a panic.  "I...I was instructed not to..."

Di'Fier stepped smoothly forward, waving the indignant Dru back with his hand. "But you have been approached, have you not?  What did the seller look like?"

"He was a northerner. Tall, broad shouldered, bright red hair." She paused a moment.  "Always seemed like it was too hot for him."

"Was he sweating?" The woman flinched away from Dru's question like it was a crossbow bolt.

"Y-yes."

"All right," said Di'Fier carefully.  "I think we can snare him. I have a plan..."


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Session Ten, Part One: Decent, Law-Abiding Citizens?*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> The small man smiled. "As a decent, law-abiding citizen of this city, it was my pleasure."
> *




Ohohohoh... If I were our heroes, I wouldn't trust on him. Everybody knows there isn't such a thing like a law-abiding citizen of Freeport...

Great update!


----------



## Boss

Heck I wouldn't trust him for the simple fact he used Dru's exact words - 

_Dru cracked her knuckles. "I'm sure that the decent, law-abiding citizens of Freeport would have no problem helping the Guard." _ 

Not only was he following, but he was listening in as well...


----------



## drnuncheon

Boss said:
			
		

> *Heck I wouldn't trust him for the simple fact he used Dru's exact words -
> 
> Dru cracked her knuckles. "I'm sure that the decent, law-abiding citizens of Freeport would have no problem helping the Guard."
> 
> Not only was he following, but he was listening in as well... *




What a shame it is when a concerned citizen cannot do his civic duty without encountering such suspicion and mistrust!

J


----------



## DiFier

Ah ha. . . wait um . . . Well.   It is good that we didn't just charge over to the quill and burn it down.   Someone was trying to deflect the blame.  but I don't want to give too much away.   Lets just say that There were a few attempts to put us on the wrong path.  this wasn't the first one.  if this actually was one.  ahhhhrgh


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part Two: "Another ambush? This is getting to be a habit..."*

*Noon - Merchant's District*

*Di'Fier*

All was in place.  Roseshade the shuffler had agreed to her part in the plan - she was to claim that she hadn't found a buyer yet, but was pursuing some leads.  Outside, Dru and Di'Fier wandered around, trying their best to look as if they were shopping.

It was Dru that spotted him first - a thatch of bright red hair above a sweaty brow, that bobbed head and shoulders above the crowd. She elbowed her partner and they ducked into an alley.  Dru pulled a small vial from her cloak, and Di'Fier did the same with a tightly rolled scroll.  Within moments, the two guardsmen were invisible to the naked eye.

But something was wrong - the red-haired man has turned and was walking away from the market.  _He must have seen something,_ Di'Fier thought. _Or been warned._  The two guardsmen slid out into the edges of the crowd, doing their best to avoid the masses of people.  Ahead of them, the red-headed man turned into an alley.

The invisible guardsmen broke free of the throngs of people and dashed to the alley, just in time to catch a glimpse of a much smaller man, a blonde, exiting the other end.  "That must be him...let's go!" Dru hissed, and they were off.

Tracing the blonde man's steps led them to a walled estate in the more prosperous area of the Merchant's District. "And near the Street of Flowers, too," Di'Fier noted in a low voice.  "Just like we thought.  Let's check the area."

The pair spread out, circling the house and meeting at the back.  "I saw the front door, and a side gate," Di'Fier reported.

"No other entrances," said his partner.  The pair moved back to the front of the house to plan their next move.

"If we make a distraction, one of us could slip inside," mused the mage.

Before he could expound on the plan, Dru was already fading into visibility as she mounted the steps and banged louly on the door.  Di'Fier hurried into position.

"Go away."

A thin smile appeared on Dru's face.  Those who knew her would know it was time to get out of the way.  Whoever was behind the door did not know her.

"This is Watch-Sargeant Naïlo of the Freeport Watch. You will open this door."

A muffled conversation ensued behind the thick oaken planks of the door.

Dru was tired of waiting. "Now."

There was a click as the latch was thrown, and the door creaked open.  Dru gave it a shove and stepped into the foyer of the house.  Di'Fier was about to follow her when he saw the glint of steel.

"Dru!" he shouted, but the elven guard had already spotted the danger, and she twisted out of the way of the strike, her hand darting to her own blade.  From somewhere inside, the sound of chanting echoed as a spell was cast.

The warrior-mage tensed, then threw himself through the doorway into chaos.


*Dru*

Her blade practically leapt into her hand as the elven guardsman whirled away from her unseen assailant's strike. She had but a moment to take stock of the situation - the perfumed man whose blade had just missed could only be Gil of Highgate.  Another man on the other side of the door was advancing, but his side split open in a spray of blood as her partner became visible.  And through it all, the sound of someone chanting.

She lashed out with her blade and caught Gil along the arm, where he was too slow in pulling back from his failed thrust.  The other man rallied and struck back at Di'Fier, a blow that spent most of its force opening a rent in the _cuir-bouilli_ armor the Watchman wore.

The chanting ceased as dark sulferous clouds began to roil in midair.  From the center of the cloud came a savage growling and a hot wind.  Then, as if the smoke were a doorway, a creature stepped from it: a dog, of sorts, but like no dog that Dru had ever seen.  Its skin was blackened, hairless and cracked, and its eyes reflected flames that were not present in the hall.  A long black tongue hung from its mouth, and the look it gave the elf was one of vile hate.  Then it was in motion, and even Dru's elven reflexes were not enough to turn it aside.  The creature's teeth burned in her leg as they tore into her, and she thought she could smell the stench of cooking flesh.

Di'Fier batted the tiny blade of his adversary aside and drove his own sword into him again.  The man stumbled backwards, then spun and fled.  Dru looked up from the hellhound to the sound of running feet - coming towards them.  A pair of crossbow-weilding guards skidded around the corner and took aim at the Watchmen.  Bolts flew, but failed to find their mark.

The dog-creature growled, hunkering down and shaking its head back and forth like it was worrying a piece of meat. Hot slaver dripped from its jaws, bursting into flame as it fell to the ground.  Then it opened its jaws and breathed hell out onto Dru and Di'Fier.  The pair dived in opposite directions, narrowly avoiding the flame. Nimbly, the creature dodged blows from both of its opponents.

Another crossbow bolt spat through the air past Dru - but this one came from the other direction! A quick glance told her that the wounded man had returned to the fight, as he frantically fitted the goats-foot to the stock of his weapon to prepare it for another shot.

Dru swapped her blade to her free hand and reached into her pouch, pulling out a soft leather bag that she sent winging towards the hellhound, even as it advanced on her partner.  The sticky goo of the tanglefoot bag slowed the dog enough to make its jaws clamp on empty air, but its supernaturally tough hide turned aside Di'Fier's return stroke.

More bolts arced through the air, and one found its home in Dru's arm. Cursing, the elf spun and thrust, nearly skewering the man.  Meanwhile, her former opponent had made his way unseen to pop up behind her partner.  "Di'Fier!" she shouted. "Behind you!"  


*Di'Fier*

The watchman's cloak whirled about his frame as he spun just in time to deflect the blow. With a savage grin, he stepped back and formed his fingers into the proper arcane pattern, shouting the words of his spell.  Behind the hapless Gil, a globe of flame manifested itself, rolling forward to engulf the man.  He screamed as the pomade and perfume he doused himself with ignited under the fiery assault.

Meanwhile, the wounded man crashed into Dru, blocking her blade with the stock of his crossbow and forcing her back into the corner.  The flaming Gil dashed towards the exit, but collided with something unseen and was flung to the side.  _He must be invisible!_ Di'Fier thought, and swung his sword wide, feeling the tip scrape along flesh and clothing.  Unfortunately, the desperate move left his guard down, and the sword of one of the men bit into his shoulder.  With a growl, the wizard directed the flaming sphere at him.

Diving between the guards and the hell hound, Di'Fier's blade bit deep into one of the men, sending him crashing to the floor. Behind him, he could hear the growl of the creature as Dru thrust her rapier deep into it - apparently she had dealt with her other assailant.  A low cut from his foe left a line of blood across Di'Fier's thigh.

Behind him, the growling stopped as the arcane bonds holding the hellhound to this world faded.  "Close the front door! He's invisible!" Di'Fier shouted, as his blade felled the last remaining opponent.  Dru shoved it shut and began flailing at empty space with her blade, hoping that luck would serve where skill could not.

As he dashed into the other room, Di'Fier could see a pair of vellum scrolls floating in midair, seemingly rolling themselves up.  _The contracts!_  Before he could reach them, they vanished.  His heart beat loudly in his ears as he tried to discern where his invisible foe went.

To his right, a door swung closed, and he could hear the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking into place.

Calling upon the arcane forces at his command, Di'Fier summoned the strength of magic to his muscles, hurling himself forward at the door, only to bounce away from its surface.  Dimly, he heard the shattering of glass.

"Di'Fier!" came Dru's voice. "He's in the garden!"

The watchman raced back to the foyer.  Dru was already charging across the lawn, aiming for the broken window.  Her blade swung out - and found a target, as bright crimson droplets sprayed from nowhere.

"_Zamath_!" shouted a voice from nowhere - and for a moment both guardsmen could see a barely-visible disc interposed between them and where they assumed their target was.

"Dru, follow him! I'll guard the gate!" Di'Fier had not taken a dozen steps before he slowed, beneath the boughs of a vine-wrapped lemon tree.  _The tree smells so nice,_ he thought to himself.  _And those berries look so tasty.  I've got time to have just one..._


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part Three: Betrayal*

*Noon - Merchant's Quarter - Kenzil's Manor*

"Di'Fier!" the elven guard screamed. "What are you _doing_?"  She thrust into the air, and the tempered steel of her rapier rang as it was deflected by a disc of force made momentarily visible by the impact.  "This is no time for a snack!"

The wizard paused, his hand already reaching unconsciously for another of the purple berries.  Then a strange expression came over his face, and he clutched his stomach.  His face writhed, mirroring the turmoil in his gut.

"Di'Fier, _he's getting away!_" Dru lashed out again, and somehow her blade bit home, eliciting a screech from the invisible wizard. The unseen man yanked himself away from the blade and spat a syllable of mystic power.

Dru ran forward, her blade sweeping through the space where the wizard had been. Only the chance dislodging of a pebble made her think to look up. "Di'Fier, he's climbing the tower! Get him!"

Her partner lurched to his feet, pulling his well-used wand from his belt. Waving it in the invisible mage's direction, he shouted a command, and a brilliant streak of energy shot forth...

...only to be intercepted by the unseen disk!  And still the invisible wizard climbed.  Dru and Di'Fier scrambled among their potion vials to find the ones that would enable them to mimic their opponent's feat.  The guards raised matched vials, grimacing at the bitter taste and the unpleasant sensation of swallowing a still-squirming spider, and then started up the wall after their quarry.

As they clambered over the top of the wall, they heard the sound of glass on stone.  The stopper to a potion vial bounced along the rooftop, followed momentarily by the vial itself.  As they charged forward, swords swinging, they could hear laughter...and the sound of wings, carrying the wizard out of their reach.







*Five of the Clock - Old City - Guard Headquarters*

Captain Donnach stared levelly at the pair of guardsmen in front of his desk.  "Magus Kenzil of the Guild has filed a complaint," he said, tapping the paper in front of him.  "He claims the two of you burst into his house without provocation and began attacking his manservants."

"He had the contracts," insisted Dru, sullenly.

"And we know what happened to the missing journeyman," Di'Fier added - still looking pale from his encounter with the poisoned berries. "If we can get back there, with a warrant..."

The Captain looked the two of them over.  "I'm going to lose this piece of paper for a short time. I trust you can have this wrapped up within two days?  Good. Now get out of my office."

"That was unexpected," Dru muttered as they left. To the waiting Guardsmen, she offered a feral grin. "Sorry...we're still on duty."  Someone cursed, evidently having lost in the suspension pool.

"For now, anyway," Di'Fier muttered.

"Shh.  Let's go get these wounds seen to, and then some dinner, and then we can check out that address from the crate."

"Sounds good to me."






*Seven of the Clock - Merchant's District*

Dru shook her head.  "Verlaine's house. Why am I not surprised?  And I'll bet that the sewer map leads right under it from the old temple."

"Well, that's what we're ging to find out," said Di'Fier, leading the way back towards the Old City.  "Maybe then we can figure out where...Brother Egil!"

The slim figure walking toward them was indeed the priest of the Temple of Knowledge.  His expression did not bode well, however - it was a mask of fear and concern.  "My friends," he said, stretching out his arms. "It is good that I have found you.  Lucius has been kidnapped again!  I have no idea where they could have taken him!"

Dru looked over at her partner. "I have an idea."

Di'Fier nodded, and pulled Egil to a narrow side street, just inside the Old City.  Bending down, he tugged vigorously on a metal grate.

"Here, let _me_ handle that," said Dru, planting her feet and yanking the grate up with a squeal of protesting metal.

Egil looked from Dru to Di'Fier in confusion. "You think they took him into the sewers?" Both guardsmen nodded, and the young priest's face set into an expression of firm resolve. "I'm coming with you, then. I've got to help rescue Lucius."

_He was certainly helpful against those skeletons,_ Dru thought. "All right, Brother. Let's go."

The trio crawled down into the stinking darkness of the Freeport sewers.


*Sewers - Somewhere Under the Merchant's District*

"Barred, just like Reed said," Di'Fier observed.  "So no undesirables can get into the Merchant's Quarter this way."

Dru was already moving forward, inspecting the iron bars that blocked the passage.  Beside the walkway, a thick stream of sludgy water, mixed with things best not thought about, moved sluggishly down the brick tunnels.  After a moment longer, Dru reached out and grasped two of the bars, and with a firm jerk, pulled them free! She handed them to a stunned Egil and Di'Fier with a grin, and they saw how the bars had been cut at top and bottom, then carefully put back in place so as to seem undisturbed.  "Come on," said the elf. "Let's go.  Egil, you take the map. I'll go first.  Di'Fier, bring up the rear."

The three moved on, the darkness illuminated only by the mystical blue light shed from the blade of Dru's punch-dagger.  Her eyes roved across the muck, and spotted something out of place.  Lifting it free with her blade, she saw the tattered remnants of a shirt.

Even in the blue light, she could see Egil turn pale.  "That...that is Lucius's shirt.  We must hurry!"

Not a hundred yards farther on, Dru raised her hand for a halt.  "Look here," she said, gesturing towards a section of wall that looked much like any other section of wall.  "Egil, are we at the end of the trail on the map?"

The priest perused the document. "Yes...yes, we seem to be."

"What is it?" asked Di'Fier.

"A secret door," said Dru, her fingers working over the bricks.  "And secret doors are made to be opened." A section of the brick wall ground aside - bricks mounted upon an iron door.

Egil clutched the map and peered into the darkness.  "Maybe you had better go inside first," he began nervously.

The Watchmen crept slowly into the room.  The light of Dru's punchdagger revealed strange piles of rocks, stacked against metal walls. "What kind of place is this?"

A grinding noise behind them heralded the closing of the secret door.  "What the-?" Di'Fier began, as Dru sprang towards the door - but it was too late! The door had inexorably closed, and would not open from this side.

From somewhere outside the room came the hiss of steam, and a grinding noise.  Rock began to fall from the tops of the piles, skittering down to the iron floor like miniature avalanches.  The room began to shake.

Dru and Di'Fier exchanged glances.  "I've got a bad feeling about this..."







_Stay tuned for "Butchery and Bloodbath" - later tonight!_


----------



## Thorntangle

*Re: Session Ten, Part Three: Betrayal*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Stay tuned for "Butchery and Bloodbath" - later tonight! *



So this episode will involve investigating the local meat-handlers and bathhouses?  Er, I guess not.  Sounds like a lot of fun - keep up the good work Doc.


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## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part Four: Dirty Secrets Underground*

_Yeah, I know I said "Butchery and Bloodbath", but it took me longer to get to the butchery than I thought.  So next time._

*Eight of the Clock - A Deathtrap, Somewhere Under the Merchant's District*

The trapped guardsmen turned their attention to the walls. "There's got to be another way out!" snapped Dru.

"This wall is hinged," grunted Di'Fier, as he pushed against it. "But I can't budge it...too heavy!" A head-sized chunk of rock rolled down a pile and slammed into his leg, nearly knocking him over.  He scrambled away from the wall and over to a tiny window set in the side of the room. "There's someone out there...hey!  HEY!"

The room began to tilt, and Di'Fier swung away from the window. "He's in on it.  He saw me and kept going."

Dru growled, and in one smooth motion pulled her bow from her back, nocked it, and fired an arrow through the tiny window.  It thudded home deep in the man's skull, knocking him over backwards.  "Take _that_," she spat.

Slowly, the room tilted ever upwards, and more and heavier rocks bounced down to smash into the hinged iron wall.  It began to swing open, pulled by gravity, and the rocks fell into the grinding teeth below, skittering and spinning until they were sucked between the massive rollers and crushed to powder.

Suddenly, the rocks under Di'Fier's feet gave way, sending the watchman sliding downwards! Dru's hand darted out and latched onto his wrist as he slid past her, but his weight yanked her off balance as well.  The elf grabbed desperately at the edge of the window, catching on with her fingertips.  Her forgotten bow bounced once off the floor, and then was splintered by the grinding teeth of the rock crusher, revolving scant inches from Di'Fier's boots.

"Can't hold on much longer..." she gritted.  "Looks like this is it..."  She could feel her grip slipping.

Then, she remembered.  "Di'Fier...in my pouch...spider climb potion..."  With a mighty effort she pulled him upward.  "Grab it!"

The room began to shake, and she could feel the sweat making her grip slick, watching her partner dig for the potion vial...then there it was, in his hand.  He flicked the cap free and swallowed it as Dru swung him over to the side of the wall, and then slipped free of the window, barely catching herself on his back.  The mage climbed to the top of the box as it shuddered and shook, dislodging the last remnants of rock and pulverizing them...

...and then began slowly to settle back to a horizontal position.






"I don't _believe_ he did that," growled Dru, as the pair worked on the concealed door back into the sewers.  "When I get my hands on him..." The clenching and unclenching of her fists left little doubt as to the unspoken end of her sentence.

"He took the map, too," said Di'Fier.  "But I'll bet it wasn't the real Brother Egil.  It seems like _everyone_ we run into these days hides their identity with magic." The door finally opened under his prying fingers, and he stepped into the sewers and looked around.  "I'll bet he went farther on," he said.  "There must be another secret door."

"Yeah, or another trap," muttered his companion - but she pulled her punch-dagger, illuminating the tunnel with an azure glow, and moved on down the walkway.

A dozen steps farther on, she slowed, then began to study the wall. "I think there's another door."

"It's a lot better hidden than the last one," Di'Fier observed.  "That looks promising..."

Dru grunted her assent as she studied the door.  Somewhere was the key top opening it...ahh, there it was.  She fitted her slender fingers into the mortarless gap between two bricks and was rewarded with the click of a latch.  The door swung noiselessly open onto darkness.  Stepping forward, she nearly tumbled down the steep slope behind the door.

"What kind of idiots put a _ramp_ right inside their front door?" she grumbled, descending more carefully.  Above her, Di'Fier half-walked, half-slid down the slope, making her inch to the side.  _Just in case_.

The narrow corridor at the foot of the ramp led off into darkness, with open archways intermittently spaced along the walls.  The first led only to storage rooms, but the second was a room filled with books and papers.

"I can't read this gibberish," Dru said, tossing the book back on the desk and beginning to rifle through the drawers.

"These books are written in Valossan," said Di'Fier.  "Maybe Garto could translate them for us.  Hmm...what's this?"  He reached out and picked up a slender volume.  "_The True and Secrette Historie of the Brotherhoode of Free-porte_.  And it's in Common."  He shoved the small book into his pouch and promptly forgot about it - his partner had finished searching the desk and was fondling her throwing knives as she regarded the book-case.  "Let's keep going for now," he decided hastily, and they moved off down the corridor, as it curved around in a semicircle.






Unknown to the two watchmen, their progress did not go unnoticed.  A jangling of bells, unheard save for one person, marked their passage.  The hearer slipped from the bed of pillows she had made for herself, and for a moment her silhouette was visible on the wall - a silhouette clearly not human. But any casual observer would think that such an impression was mistaken, for in moments the shadow had softened, changed, even as the flesh of its caster did the same.

The woman looked down at her naked form and tried to supress a shudder at the things she was forced to do in the service of the Brotherhood.  A heavy, jeweled ring glinted in the dim light as she reached out for a garment to cover herself, and she slipped into a set of plain grey robes - the robes of an acolyte of the Temple of Knowledge.

There was a rustle of fabric, a creak of a door, and she was gone.  Only a few stray scales left behind in the massed pillows marked that she had ever been present.






The passage curved around and opened into an enormous hall, hewn from the rock under the city - a natural cavern, enlarged to meet the needs of its present occupants.  Despite it's size, the cavern was dominated by an enormous squatting statue: the tentacled reptilian horror known as the Unspeakable One - and carved into the stone above it was the all-too-familiar Yellow Sign.

Below, dwarfed by the idol: a black altar of basalt with a figure strapped to it, and another, robed figure pacing back and forth.  The robed figure droned a chant as it swung its thurible back and forth, clouds of smoky incense pouring from the metal ball at the end of its chain.  Beside the altar stood a brazier filled with glowing coals, and the handle of an unknown implement projecting from it indicated that it was not merely to warm the chill air of the room.

The Guardsmen hunched in the entryway long enough to take in the scene - until Dru recognized the figure on the altar. "Egil!" she gasped, and in one motion she was charging across the room at top speed, her rapier ringing as she pulled it forth from its sheath to strike at the acolyte. With a startled squawk, the priest dove out of the way, shouting for help and leaving the thurible to bounce and spin on the cavern floor.

Di'Fier drew his blade with one hand, the other already bent in the mystic pattern that would conjure forces to protect him from harm.  He spoke the familiar words of the spell and for a moment was surrounded by a blue shimmer that quickly faded to invisibility.  Thus defended, he moved forward into the center of the room.  Behind him, he heard the clacking of claws on stone, and whirled to face a pair of the vile serpentmen as they entered from the hallway.

The second time, Dru did not miss - her blade found the acolyte's heart.  But it was too late - the alarm had been raised.  Moving to Egil's side, she pulled a potion from her pouch and poured it down the unconscious priest's throat, then began sawing at his bonds.

Meanwhile, Di'Fier was holding off the serpentmen - but more were emerging from the tunnel. A second of the creatures crashed to the floor beside the first, but two had already gotten past him and charged towards his partner and Brother Egil.  

Dru shoved the battered priest out of the way, but for her trouble one of the spears found a home in her side.  The blood only seemed to make her angrier, and her arm thrust forward, sending steel six inches through the ophidian warrior's skull and out the other side.  The other serpentman raised his spear to strike as Dru struggled to free her blade - but it suddenly staggered.  The hiss of pain blended with the hiss of burning flesh: Egil had delivered a two-handed blow with a red-hot branding iron!

Di'Fier moved forward to hold the doorway as another pair of the creatures entered.  "How many of them _are_ there?" he wondered to himself as his heavy blade knocked aside their spear-thrusts.  His riposte staggered the creature, and it managed one last feeble thrust at him before it expired.  Its partner had already gone to the aid of the serpentman attacking Dru and Egil.  Seeing no more appearing, Di'Fier followed.

Dru had leapt upon the altar, her blade a shining arc of steel as she parried the creature's thrusts.  Egil's weakened state made his mighty swings with the branding iron go wide. But Di'Fier's charge from behind turned the tide, and the two remaining serpentmen were quickly dealt with.  The stone statue of the Unspeakable One stared impassively down at the carnage.






*Half Past Eight of the Clock - Temple District*

In the city above, wheels were set in motion and plans advanced. But Brother Harmon, acolyte of the Temple of Knowledge, knew none of this.  He was returning from an errand, hurrying, because the sun had already sunk below the horizon, and the brother firmly believed that the streets of Freeport were not safe after dark.

In this, the brother was perfectly correct.

A pair of shadows detached themselves from a nearby doorway, and moved to flank the unsuspecting priest. Before he could even cry out, a hand was fastened over his mouth, and the luckless acolyte was half-dragged, half carried into the shelter of a nearby alley.

Moments later, Brother Harmon emerged. His robe and tunic were askew, torn and bloody.  He looked pale and disheveled.  As he hurried towards the temple, one hand slipped inside the robe to caress the knife hidden there.

The scene repeated itself, all across the city.






Meanwhile, Dru and Di'fier had searched the blood-splattered temple.  Di'Fier studied the paper he had found with a frown.  Dru returned from her inspection of the statue to look at it. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure," the young mage replied.  "It's in Valossan - or most of it is."

"Most of it?"

Di'Fier extended a finger.  In more than one place on the page, words - or rather names - were written in the Common tongue: Verlaine...Drusillia Naïlo...and "Di'Fier".  "I'm not sure what it says, but it can't be good."

"Well, come and have a look at this. There's a back entrance to this place."  Dru led the others behind the statue, where a ramp twin to the one they had descended lead upward.  "I think we should find out where this leads," she said.  Di'Fier and Egil nodded their agreement.

As her partner struggled up the slope, Dru remained behind to help the battered Brother Egil with the climb.  She extended a hand to the priest. "Come on, I've got you."  Grasping his hand, she moved to pull him up, but even as she did, her foot slipped.  Egil, his support suddenly removed, tumbled back down the ramp into the temple.  "Egil!" she cried, running headlong down the ramp.

The priest lay in a moaning ball at the bottom. Dru fumbled another vial of healing elixir from her pouch and poured it into his mouth. As she watched, the scrapes and contusions he had suffered vanished, and the priest sat up. "Come on," she said again, but Egil held upa hand to forestall her.

"Thank you, I think I will climb on my own."  On hands and knees, he made slow, laborious progress up the ramp.

Di'Fier waited at the top.  "We're in some kind of wine cellar," he reported. "Again.  There's more of those Bierce Vintner crates that the serpentmen had, but they're all empty."  He paused a moment, then took a deep breath. "I think this is Verlaine's house."

Dru shrugged. "Wouldn't surprise me at all.  Shall we check it out?"

Di'Fier nodded. "There's a stairway at the far end of the room. I haven't checked it out yet."

As quietly as possible, the trio crept up the stairs.  Verlaine's home was well-appointed - lavishly so - but there was one thing missing.

"Where _is_ everybody?" asked Di'Fier.  "No servants, no guards...I don't like this."

Dru frowned. "He's left his dinner uneaten," she said, looking into the dining room.  "I _really_ don't like this.  Let's check out the second floor."

Again, the trio crept up the wooden stairs, passing by paintings of merchant freighters owned by the councillor.  As their heads reached the level of the floor above, Dru looked to her left - and froze.

Three doors opened off of the upstairs hall. From underneath one of them oozed a slowly spreading pool of red.  A coppery tang permeated the air - a smell all too familiar to both watchmen...the smell of blood.






_What fate has befallen Councillor Verlaine? What sinister plots were set in motion when the Watchmen discovered the serpent temple? Who yet lurks in the shadows ready to betray the Temple of Knowledge?  Find out in our next episode: "Butchery and Bloodbath (for real this time)"!_


----------



## DiFier

The True and Secrette Historie of the Brotherhoode of Free-porte

Doh, I guess I should read this huh?

We're just so busy.  I should definitlly read this prior to . . . oh wait,  they will find out about that a little later.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Base slander by Freeport creator!*

Excerpted from the Chris Pramas chat:

*Question for Chris: What is the strangest thing you've seen happen in a Freeport-based adventure?*

_Oh, one player thought he could solve a problem by reporting it to the authorities! That was pretty funny. Freeport isn't that kind of town. _

Harrumph.  Clearly Mr. Pramas is not aware of the sterling efforts of the Freeport City Watch, whose vigilance and stern, watchful eyes have prevented innumerable dastardly crimes from occurring in the Rusty Lantern tavern, countless doorways, and all manner of other places where one can grab a quick smoke out of the wind and rain.

And then there's Dru and Di'Fier...

J


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Base slander by Freeport creator!*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Excerpted from the Chris Pramas chat:
> 
> Question for Chris: What is the strangest thing you've seen happen in a Freeport-based adventure?
> 
> Oh, one player thought he could solve a problem by reporting it to the authorities! That was pretty funny. Freeport isn't that kind of town.
> 
> /B]*



*

ROFLOL!!!

That was funny!!!!
Really, you should mail him and point him to this Story Hour *


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Base slander by Freeport creator!*



			
				Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> ROFLOL!!!
> 
> That was funny!!!!
> Really, you should mail him and point him to this Story Hour  *




Actually, I'm a reasonably frequent poster over on the GR boards as well...so he's probably seen my incessant advertisements there.   Whether he's _read_ the SH or not...anyway, we just started a rather altered version of his free "Holiday in the Sun" adventure.  

Hello to anyone from GR who's reading.  Still waiting to see the Freeport HB at my FLGS. 

Anyway, it's back to the land of short serial-style updates for a while - not because of any pressure on my part, just because I want to see how it goes.  I'll be experimenting with some other stuff in the coming weeks as well, including trying to get some more writeups from the actual players.  Stay tuned...

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part Five: Butchery and Bloodbath, Part I*

Dru looked back at her partner, indicating the door with a nod of her head.  With the kind of silent communication that only comes from years of working together, Di'Fier moved up to cover the doorway even as Dru reached for the handle.  The battered Brother Egil huddled in the corner, well away from whatever was behind the portal.

Careful to avoid the slowly spreading puddle, Dru took the time to look at it before opening the door. _Definitely blood_, she thought. _and fresh - it's barely started to cool._  With a firm motion she depressed the handle, flinging the door open and leaping back, her rapier flying to her other hand.

The door opened on a scene out of Hell.  The thick carpet of Verlaine's bedchamber was entirely soaked with blood - far more blood than could have come from a single man.  In fact, a full five men lay in the room - some expertly slain with a single stroke, while others seemed to have been literally hacked apart.  There was no movement in the room.

Dru looked at her partner and Brother Egil.  The brother looked as if he were about to vomit, had he any food in his stomach.  Even Di'Fier was pale - a slaughter of this magnitude was rare even in the lawless streets of Freeport.

"They can't have gone far," whispered Dru to her partner, jerking her head towards the second door.  They skirted the pool of blood and moved down the hall.  Dru reached out, pushed the door open...

There, in the midst of the chaos that was Verlaine's study, was a heavyset ruffian. The canvas sack in his hand bulged with what looked to be valuables.  "I'm just about done," he said as he turned...and saw not what he expected, but the forms of two City Watchmen.

With a shout, he spun, dropping the sack.  Jewelry and silver spilled out as it hit the ground, and he sprung forward, sword in hand.  Dru leapt back into the corridor, and the blade slammed into the doorframe, knocking loose a chunk of wood.

_A robbery?_ she thought wildly, as she locked blades with the killer. _But that makes no sense..._ Di'Fier's blade flashed over hers, but somehow the bulky man managed to deflect it as well.  From behind, they heard a muffled cry. "Egil!" Dru cried, risking a glance over her shoulder.

A second man had emerged from the blood-soaked room - tall and whipcord-thin, dressed in dusky black.  One arm was locked across Egil's mouth, and the other held a dagger to his throat!

Di'Fier's wand was already in his hand.  Raising it, he called out the word that would release its power, and a streak of golden magelight shot forth, curving around the form of Brother Egil to sear into the assassin's arm.

With a hiss of indrawn breath, the killer jerked his arm...drawing the knife across the priest's throat.  He took a step back, and the astonished priest fell to his knees, hands at his throat in a vain attempt to stop the pulsing flow of blood.  Softly, he crumpled into the widening pool of gore at his feet.


----------



## drnuncheon

Here's the deal, faithful readers - I've got the next two (short) updates done, and one more to go before I finish up the tangled tale that is *Terror in Freeport*.  But I want to hear that someone's read this latest one first before I post the next one.  So let me know. (Except you, Horacio - I know you're reading. )

If you're a lurker, post and I'll put up everything I've got written so far. 

As for what you've got to look forward to:
* Two more parts of 'Butchery and Bloodbath' (already written)

* Secrets of the Temple, the shocking conclusion to *Terror in Freeport* (started)

* a rematch with the wizard and criminal mastermind Kenzil

* Dru and Di'Fier vs. the House of the Dead - this may get delayed, as I'm going to try to get more material from the players on this one. A little experiment. 

...and, of course, the city is gearing up for the week-long celebration of Swagfest, that culminates in the unveiling of the Lighthouse of Drac!

So...let me know you're reading, and I'll see you later tonight...

J
...bribing the readers for bumps and pageviews...


----------



## Boss

*I'm reading, I'm reading!!!!!*

Yes, I am definitely reading, and enjoying the story greatly.  To be truthful, largely due to your story, I am about to start up a city campaign of my own with some former 2E players that want to learn 3E.  So you do have readers out here, even if some of us are silent from time to time.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part Six: Butchery and Bloodbath, Part II*

_Aha! A poster! Well let no one say that I do not fulfill my promises - here is Part II of Butchery and Bloodbath!_


"EGIL!" The word ripped out of Dru's mouth as she flung the blade of her attacker back, spun, and charged - blade held low to rip into the guts of the man who had just felled her friend.  It lashed out...

...but the thin man's reflexes were too fast.  A step back, out of the spreading blood to firmer footing, followed by an almost casual brushing aside of the enraged elf's slender blade. Letting the knife fall to the ground, the killer drew his own rapier - a finely made instrument with a swept hilt.  He fell into a guard position and smirked.

Behind them, Di'Fier stumbled, distracted by Egil's fall, and the wicked blade of the ruffian sliced into his left arm. He could feel the blood soaking his sleeve, but instead of making a counterattack, he too whirled, diving and sliding on his knees into the pool of blood next to the gentle priest. One hand dove into his pouch, extracting a potion of a vivid blue hue, and he flicked the stopper free with his thumb.

White fire seemed to scorch along his back as the assassin casually dropped his blade and thrust it into the young guardsman's flesh.  A few precious drops of the healing elixer spilled on Egil's face as Di'Fier gritted his teeth and twisted, feeling the blade grate along his ribs rather than plunging into his heart as expected.  Behind the mage, the ruffian moved in, but a wild swing and a growl from Dru caused him to leap backwards.  Di'Fier's shaking hands maneuvered the vial to Egil's lips and tilted it up.

For a moment, nothing happened, and time seemed to hang immobile, paused on the brink of a precipice.  Then the flow of blood ceased. Egil's eyes flickered, opened. And the world crashed back into motion.

Di'Fier grabbed his sword from the pool of blood, rising up like some blood-soaked sirit of vengeance. His eyes blazed with righteous anger, and he seemed not to feel the wounds on his body.  The massive blade spun, forcing the killer back and opening a line on his chest.  Dru grinned, seeing the man pushed back towards her.  Her blade circled, evading his defenses and plunging deep into his kidney.  And behind it all was Egil's soft voice, calling upon his God to grant them battle-knowledge against these foes.

Egil's would-be killer found himself surrounded.  Wherever he turned was a wall of steel, that bit into his flesh and parried his own strikes.  The elven woman was growling like an animal, barely paying attention to the attacks of his partner behind her. He twisted out of the way of the bastard sword...

...and found himself looking at the once-in-a-lifetime sight of six inches of steel protruding from his chest.

Dru pulled her sword free as the killer crumpled, whirling to face her other foe and barely parrying his attack.  Her back ached with pain, and she could feel the blood practically pouring out of it, but now there was only one person to deal with.  She smiled grimly, and the man paled.

Backing away, the man sbegan to swing wildly in an attempt to keep the guards back.  His glances towards the door of the study were all that Dru needed to know there was something in there that he wanted - something that the guards no doubt didn't want him to get.  She tensed, spring forward - tucking into a roll that would take her under his blade...

...or would have, if he hadn't twisted it at the last second.  The blade slammed into her wounded back, and tore open a long gash as her momentum carried her past him. Stifling a cry of pain, she rolled to her feet, reversing her blade and stabbing behind her, deep into the thug, before turning to face him.

Ashen-faced, the man somehow managed to fight on.  He parried the strokes of Di'Fier's heavy blade, but that just gave Dru an opportunity to ply her own. Another wound opened on the man, and more of the hall's wooden floors were soaked with blood. 

With a quick glance at the watchmen, the man twisted around and launched himself through the study door, grabbing a ceramic flask from his bag of loot and barely parrying Di'Fier's blow.  Again Dru's blade cut into him, and he staggered - then raised his arm and threw the flask at the guardsmen!

Dru could feel the magic of her buckler tugging at her arm, eager to block the incoming blow - but instead she twisted away, taking cover behind the doorway.  Di'Fier did the same, and the flask slammed to the floor where they had been standing, bursting into tall flames that burned a hellish, unnatural red.

Egil had staggered to his feet, staggering forward.  He reached out to touch Dru, and she could feel the barest trickle of healing energy - just enough to stop the blood from her wounds. The brother slumped, exhausted, against the wall.

Di'Fier looked at the flames, and then beyond to the man behind them.  _I can't give him any more time to prepare,_ he thought desperately, and then he was moving, leaping through the wall of fire to land on the other side.  His cloak and boots smoking, he stepped forward towards the stunned ruffian and raised his sword.  There was a wet thud, and blood sprayed the papers scattered across the room as the headless corpse collapsed.


----------



## Jon Potter

*We're out here...*

You've GOT to know we're reading.

I was hooked long ago. I just keep quiet so that you can concentrate on writing.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: We're out here...*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *You've GOT to know we're reading.
> 
> I was hooked long ago. I just keep quiet so that you can concentrate on writing.  *




Actually, I'm able to write pretty quickly, so don't let that stop you from posting, discussing, asking questions, cracking jokes, making predictions, violating Rule One...

J
*Freeport, City of Adventure* Watch: my FLGS owner says Tuesday


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part Seven: Butchery and Bloodbath, Part III*

_A triple dose of updates! Thank Boss and Jon for this.  Now I have to go and write some more to catch up..._

Consider, if you will, the sight that the citizens of Freeport must have seen that night: Three figures running through the street, weapons drawn, their expressions a mix of desperation and determination.  The first, a young bearded man in the robes of a priest - the entire right side of which are soaked and dripping with blood.  The two who follow him are scarcely better: a tall man with a massive blade, his tunic blood-soaked and shredded, smelling of alchemists fire; and an elven woman, scarred and just as bloody as her companions, with a rapier in her hand and another at her belt.  Even if the latter two hadn't been wearing the medallions of the City Watch, it is unlikely that anyone would have dared to challenge their passage.

What inspired them to this mad dash across the normally quiet streets of the Merchant's District? And what was their destination?  For the answer, we must trace their bloody footprints back to the house known as 100 Wave Avenue: the residence of the late Councillor Verlaine.






Dru and Di'Fier piled the possessions of the killers in the study - it being the least bloody of the rooms. Egil had managed to douse the flames with the blessing of his deity, and now Di'Fier called upon his own magic, letting it pass in front of his vision, surrounding two of the items: the assassin's blade, and a carved wooden amulet - as well as the potion vials they had already set aside.  Di'Fier looped the talisman around his own neck, and passed the blade to Dru, who inspected it closely.

"I could have told you it was magic," she muttered. "You should see the marks it left on my blade." She struck a guard position, getting the feel of the new weapon.  

Di'Fier looked through the pouches of the dead men.  "Here's a map...I'm not sure what it's of...and some kind of contract." He passed the map to Egil and scanned the other parchment. "Listen to this," he said, and began to read.

_As a duly elected officer of the City of Freeport, I hereby appoint Drusillia Naïlo and Di'Fier special deputies of this council, empowered to carry out, with full discretion and authority, the infiltration of the Temple to the God of Knowledge and uncover what secrets it may hold.

Signed,

Councillor Verlaine_


"This map...is a map of the Temple," said Egil.  "Which means that when they were done here..." His voice trailed off as the implication sunk in - and then the young priest was off, fear and renewed adrenaline washing away the fatigue and pain of his wounds.  The Watchmen were only moments behind him.

And so it was that three figures out of nightmare burst through the front doors of the temple.  The acolyte at the front shrieked: "Pirates!" and dove beneath his desk.

"Norton, we haven't got _time_ for this!" cried Egil.  "We must see the high priest - we are all in terrible danger!" A low moan answered him, and he led the way to Thuron's office.






Thuron regarded the evidence arrayed before him: the "contract", the map...and the Valossan document that the Watchmen had discovered in the hidden temple beneath Verlaine's house.  He took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh.

"I have known this day would come, ever since the Brotherhood first came to Freeport.  They will always try to take revenge on those who hinder their plans.  These documents prove it.  Should we survive the coming battle, I will tell you what they contain - but there is no time.  Egil, wake the others and have them begin casting spells of protection." The high priest turned to the two Watchmen.  "It seems I owe you an apology - and I must further ask you to fulfill your duties to this city in protecting this temple."

Di'Fier nodded. "We've already sent my raven to fetch backup." He glanced at his partner. "Let's get upstairs before the trouble starts."

The watchmen pounded up the stairs - Di'Fier to the eastern entrance, Dru to the west.  Almost as they reached their destinations, the doors began to open...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part Eight: A Desperate Defense*

The great doors to the Temple creaked open, revealing a ragged and bloodied group of acolytes behind each, hurrying to crowd into the Temple.  Dru growled, her hand going to her blade, and moved to block them. "Not so fast," she said, an inch of steel bared.

A woman stepped forward. The flickering candlelight was reflected momentarily from the heavy gold ring on her hand. "Please, you must let us in - they are after us!"

"Who?" the elven guard demanded suspiciously.

"I...I am not sure, but they set upon us as we were running errands, and tried to slay us." The exhausted woman screwed up her face in an effort to remember. "I heard one of them say something about a 'brotherhood'."

Across the hall, Di'Fier was receiving much the same story.  "Norton!" he snapped, and the poor lad slunk warily over towards him. "Go and fetch Brother Egil, or the High Priest - we need their help.  In the meantime, the rest of you wait here.  You can close the door behind you," he generously offered.

"We must prepare defenses - they will attack the temple!" one protested.

Di'Fier just grinned.

A few moments later, Norton returned with Brother Egil.

"Egil, go help Dru," Di'Fier said.  "Norton, are these people from your temple?"

Norton peered at the faces, the acolytes with their worried and fearful expressions. "I...yes, they are."

Across the great hall, Egil was performing the same inspection. "I recognize all of you," he said.  Nonetheless, something seemed to trouble him.  His eyes fixed upon the heavy gold ring, he said slowly, "but our order practices a vow of poverty..."

The room exploded into chaos.  Almost before Egil was finished speaking, Dru's blade had quit its scabbard, but the ringed woman proved to be wearing armor beneath her robes, and it was turned aside.  Dru was not so lucky, however, as the woman's knife slashed through the soft leather she wore and cut deep into her side. Di'Fier's battle-blade proved to be a more effective deterrant - few of his attackers were willing to close when they bore only knives, especially after the one poor fool who did was left lying in a pool of blood on the marbled floor.

The press of battle carried Dru away from the woman with the ring - evidently the leader.  Fiercely, she fought agains the foes surrounding her, dealing one a vicious blow that staggered him. As he fell back, she caught sight of the woman, who sketched a glowing sigil in the air - the Yellow Sign. "It is useless to struggle against the Unspeakable One," the woman informed her as the sigil dissipated - and Dru could feel the leaden press of fate upon her.  Her reactions slowed, her senses dulled, and the battle whirled chaotically around her.

Di'Fier heard the incantation, stepped back from his fight, and uttered a single word - a word that erased him from sight before its echo had fully died.  Thus unseen, he whirled and charged across the Temple. The spell would not last for more than a few seconds, but that was all he needed...

Perhaps it was the sound of boots on marble that alerted the woman.  Perhaps some lingering traces of blood on his boot-soles let her see his progress across the hall.  Whatever the reason, the woman twisted out of the way of Di'Fier's strike, her robes flaring around her as she spun - and laughed.

At the end of the hall, the High Priest entered to see the chaos that had ensued - Egil had run to fetch him when the battle began.  In his hands he bore three rocks, softly glowing, and it was one of these that he raised above his head, pulled back...and let fly at one of the "acolytes" that was charging across the room to reinforce their brethren. The other two stones were pressed into Egil's hands.

"You cannot defeat my master," the woman snarled - and as it had once before, fear hammered at Dru.  _This woman is unbeatable,_ it seemed to say. _The Brotherhood is unstoppable.  Your only chance is to flee._

The elf shook her head to clear it, letting the pain of her wounds focus her mind.  "That didn't work for your b-tch friend, and it won't work now," she snarled, leaping forward to plunge her rapier into the woman's breast.  As her target sank to her knees, Dru saw her skin begin to tint green and turn to scales - and then the acolytes were on her, mobbing her.

As Egil cast the second stone, Thuron raised a hand in supplication, and called out a prayer - but Di'Fier's ears were keen, and it was not the God of Knowledge that Thuron called upon.  As the priest moved towards them, he cried to his partner, "Dru! Watch out for Thuron! _That wasn't a prayer to the God of Knowledge!_" Then he could do nothing but parry and cut as the attackers threatened to overbear him. Three had already fallen, but he was flanked now, and forced to fight defensively just to remain alive.

Bursting free from the members of the Brotherhood that surrounded her, Dru cast a glance over her shoulder.  Di'Fier was right - Thuron was coming towards her, chanting another spell. She stabbed at a cultist, sending him sprawling, but she could feel the blood ebbing from a dozen knife wounds, and knew she could not hold out much longer.  A strangled cry marked the fall of Norton to a cultist dagger.

"Watch-Sergeant!" Thuron commanded. "Take my hand!"  He reached out for her, divine energy radiating like heat from his outstretched fingertips.


----------



## Jon Potter

You're a master at the cliffhanger, that's for certain!

You're encouraging me to do the Green Ronin "potty dance".


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *You're a master at the cliffhanger, that's for certain!*




I do try my best.  Just ask my players.   It's a habit that brought much woe to my gaming group in college, especially when they were fleeing an army of enraged dragonmen and fell into a hidden cavern. A luminous eye the size of the room opened in the darkness before them...and we stopped for winter break.

Another good one - not mine this time - was in a superhero game, when the missing member of our group opened the door on our gathering...and threw a bundle of dynamite into the center of the room.   (The GM made us write our next actions down without consulting each other.  When we resumed, three of us smashed into each other while trying to grab the dynamite, and everyone else went out the window...)

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part Nine: Secrets of the Temple*

_*Spoiler Warning*: Even more massive spoilers for *Terror in Freeport* follow. Don't say you weren't warned!_

Dru's rapier danced, keeping the cultists back as she hesitated - unsure what to do about Thuron. _Well,_ she thought, _guess it's about time to find out if we really can trust the old b-st-rd._ She lunged at an acolyte, missed, recovered, and stretched her free hand back towards the high priest...

...their fingertips touched.

Cold energy flowed up Dru's arm and into her spine, and for a moment she was sure she had been betrayed.  But then she felt the bleeding ebb, and saw her wounds begin to close.  With a fierce grin, she returned to the fight, and within the space of a few heartbeats one of the cultists was sprawled lifelessly upon the floor.  Di'Fier renewed his assault, removing the problem of being flanked in the most direct way possible, and the pair turned to the remaining two attackers. It was the work of a moment to finish them.

Dru looked around.  Egil cradled Norton's head in his lap as he called upon the last of his healing energy to stabilize the unfortunate lad.  The Temple's few remaining acolytes filed in and began to dispose of the carnage.  Thuron leaned heavily on his staff as he surveyed the scene, exhausted.

Then, the old man spoke.  "Egil. Dru. Di'Fier. I believe I owe the three of you some explanations. Come. Leave Norton to the acolytes, they will see he is healed." He turned, and led the trio out of the Temple's main hall.







Below any of the temples in Freeport that you care to choose, there are catacombs: resting places for the honored dead, hewn from the very rock of the island that the city squats upon.  Unlike the graveyard outside of town, they are a place for the honored dead, and that peaceful reverence makes a journey into them an unusual thing indeed.  Di'Fier, Egil - and even Dru - were very conscious of the seeming impropriety of their blood-soaked forms, but Thuron led them on, to the deepest portion of the Temple's catacombs, stopping only by an unmarked crypt.  A moment passed in silence, and he began to speak.

"My friends - and I hope I may still call you that when my words are done - I must make a confession.  I have lied to you.  For the best of reasons, it is true, but I have lied nonetheless.  I can only swear to you that I had no part in what you are about to see."

The trio waited, barely breathing, as High Priest Thuron bent his head in solemn prayer, then with a strain of effort, slid open the crypt.  A billow of sweet incense filled the air, and Dru, Di'Fier, and Egil saw the form of who was interred therein:

High Priest Thuron, of the Temple to the God of Knowledge.

Di'Fier's brow knit in concentration.  Egil's jaw dropped.  _Oh, no,_ thought Dru. _Not again._

"As you can see, I am not the High Priest. My name is K'Stallo, and I am the last living priest of Yig.

"The Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign were not the only serpent people to survive the destruction of our homeleand.  Yig preserved some of his people in isolated pockets, scattered across the world.  But even after our fall, we were proud and foolish, and many turned to the Brotherhood, or degenerated into mere animals.

"Lucius came to us, during his travels, and I believed that the knowledge he had found could lead us to a greater knowledge of Yig, an understanding of what has been lost since the fall of my people.  And thus, I followed him to Freeport.

"I slipped into the temple, disguised as a human, to peruse the scrolls that he had collected.  It was while I searched that I discovered the High Priest had passed away - peacefully, at his desk.  His heart had given out.  Nobody had found him yet, and so I made a fateful choice.  Perhaps not a wise choice, but the path that seemed most clear to me at the time.  I took his form, took his place, and devoted myself to the study of the scrolls.  I even visited Lucius' home once to see if he had kept any when he returned to the temple."  K'Stallo nodded to the open-mouthed Egil. "I believe I startled you, brother. My apologies.

"I should have spotted Milos - but I was too involved with the scrolls.  I should have given up my charade when I learned of your encounters witht he Brotherhood.  But I was too selfish, too greedy for the knowledge I was receiving.

"But I will give you what little help I can. The Valossan document..." He held out his hand, and Di'Fier passed the battered scroll to him.  "This document is a speech, an explanation of tonight's events. Listen."






_This evening, Councilor Verlaine and the clergy of the God of Knowledge have been slain. Their murderers are renegade members of the City Watch well known for their unofficial investigations and vigilante activities. After an investigation by the Council and my own personal Guard, we have pieced together the truth.

Chief Councillor Verlaine, that great servant to the city of Freeport, heard rumors about town of unwholesome activities at the temple to the God of Knowledge. He instructed the Watch-Sergeants Drusillia Naïlo and Di'Fier to investigate.  They made a tremendous discovery: The temple and its priesthood were a cover for the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign, a grotesque cult of serpent people.  The Watchmen joined the tmeple to gain its secrets, but they proved treacherous to both masters. They revealed the caves beneath the city and threatened to expose even more secrets unless the Brotherhood paid them a fortune in gold.

The Brotherhood agreed to their demands, on condition that the Watchmen accept one final task for their serpent masters — assassinating their erstwhile superior, Councilor Verlaine. The double-crossers carried out the grim job, but they quickly found themselves double-crossed.  The Brotherhood refused to pay them their blood money. Watch-Sergeants Naïlo and Di'Fier went mad with rage and slaughtered the cultists, but were killed themselves in the battle.

We mourn the loss of Councillor Verlaine, but his efforts brought this menace to light—and rooted it out of town, once and for all._






K'Stallo looked up at the others as he finished the speech. "The note," he began. "Is addressed to Sea Lord Drac.  And his name is marked with the Yellow Sign."

_Here ends *Terror in Freeport*...but Dru and Di'Fier's adventures continue, as the Brotherhood's schemes come to a head.  Will they get their hands on the fleeing Kenzil? Who or what is behind the undead problems that have been plaguing the city? And just what is the Sea Lord's connection to the Brotherhood?  All these questions will be answered...but the answers will raise yet more questions.  Stay tuned!_


----------



## Horacio

An ending that wakes up new questions...

Great update!


----------



## Thorntangle

Great ending!  I'm looking forward to more adventures with D&D.

I can't remember if you said you picked up Freeport yet?  If so, impressions?


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Great ending!  I'm looking forward to more adventures with D&D.
> 
> I can't remember if you said you picked up Freeport yet?  If so, impressions? *




Hopefully today...need to call and see if it's in...

(doing the GR potty dance)

And since there's 2 more sessions to write up already - and no end in sight to the campaign - you need have no fear of lacking Freeport adventure. 

J


----------



## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Hopefully today...need to call and see if it's in...
> 
> (doing the GR potty dance)
> 
> And since there's 2 more sessions to write up already - and no end in sight to the campaign - you need have no fear of lacking Freeport adventure.
> 
> J *




Cool!

So your Freeport book is arriving today. Mine is on its way to France, but it can take a week yet to arrive...  So, when you will get it, do here a small expert review


----------



## Dust

*Submissions?*

Are you still accepting submissions for the cohort contest?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Submissions?*



			
				Dust said:
			
		

> *Are you still accepting submissions for the cohort contest? *




Sure, what the heck, send 'em in.  I'm rotating some of the submissions through so I can see who fits in the best. 

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Guess I should have spread that out more...*

...because now I've gone a week without making an update.  Most of my gaming time is preparing for the big climax of *Madness in Freeport* (which we start play in this weekend) and planning ahead for 'Book II', tentatively titled 'Inheritance'.  I've also been making an NPC and monster database so I can print them all out on helpful index cards.

Anyway, I feel all guilty now, so I'm thinking about updating the Rogue's Gallery thread with some statblocks.  Is there anyone you guys want to see?  Let me know.

J


----------



## Jon Potter

*Hmmmm....*

That’s a tough order. We don’t know who you’re planning to send the intrepid pair  up against and it’s no fun if they get a sneak peak at their opponent’s stats.

I’m interested in Garto and Gothos Ebonrazor, but they may end up as adversaries.

How about some of the other Watchmen?

What’s Hallfred’s got going for him besides Herculean Str? Or Jaffar? I would imagine the latter’s got to have a high Con to survive the ‘Freeport Noose’ (and probably a low Wis as well - why else would he go back to work after almost dying his first night on the job?  )

I think it would be interesting to see how the other members of the Watch stack up against our heroes.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Hmmmm....*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *That’s a tough order. We don’t know who you’re planning to send the intrepid pair  up against and it’s no fun if they get a sneak peak at their opponent’s stats.
> 
> I’m interested in Garto and Gothos Ebonrazor, but they may end up as adversaries.
> 
> How about some of the other Watchmen?
> 
> What’s Hallfred’s got going for him besides Herculean Str? Or Jaffar? I would imagine the latter’s got to have a high Con to survive the ‘Freeport Noose’ (and probably a low Wis as well - why else would he go back to work after almost dying his first night on the job?  )
> 
> I think it would be interesting to see how the other members of the Watch stack up against our heroes. *




Well, keep in mind that anything I post would merely be them at this point in time.  I could post Kenzil, for instance, since he's out of the picture for now (as you will see in the next installment)...and if or when he comes back, he'll have changed, gone up some levels - perhaps in some unexpected ways.

I will put up some of the other Watchmen, including the two you mentioned and Captain Donnach.  Hallfred doesn't have much going for him at all right now, but I haven't gotten to that point in the story hour yet...

OK, OK, I'll stop talking about what's coming up and start writing it. 

J


----------



## drnuncheon

...and so I have.  Check out the Rogue's Gallery thread for stats on Hallfred, Jaffar, and Capt. Donnach - as well as a bit more info about the Watch.

J


----------



## Jon Potter

*Cool...*

Thanks for the update.

Second Level Warriors, huh?

No wonder they were getting the tar kicked out of 'em at Tas' funeral!

Now, about this Kenzil...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Cool...*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Thanks for the update.
> 
> Second Level Warriors, huh?
> 
> No wonder they were getting the tar kicked out of 'em at Tas' funeral!
> 
> Now, about this Kenzil... *




Actually, at that point they were _first_ level warriors.  I had to give 'em some props for surviving.   (Which reminds me, I ought to stat up Kiva sometime...)

Kenzil.  Heh.  Kenzil was Dru and Di'Fier's first inkling of what a prepared 7th-level wizard could do - and he was focused on getting away rather than hurting them.  Even in the rematch (coming soon, I promise) when he's low on spells, he still manages to nearly get away.

Stats for him at their last encounter will be up tonight.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eleven, Part One: This is a Bust*

The shovel bit into the dirt, but there was something unusual about the feel of it. The figure looked up, only its eyes visible above the mass of cloth wrapped around its face.  "I think I found something."

The other two diggers moved over to him - one brushing aside a vine which hung from the branches of a lemon tree, the other fumbling with a strange makeshift rope tied to his waist.  "Let's check."  The other two began plying their sovels with vigor.

Some distance away, a fourth figure craned his neck to see what was going on.  He hed three ropes of braided cloth in his enormous hamlike fist - one leading to each of the masked diggers.  He shuffled his feet and waited, an impatient sentry.

Shovelfuls of rich earth fell to the side, and soon the target of their digging was uncovered: the body of a young woman lay before them, bits of dirt still scattered across her fine features. The thin tendrils of roots had already begun to twine about her arm. The first figure raised its shovel and savagely hacked the roots away.  "Let's get her out of here.  What do you want to bet the boy is under the other one?"  The other two nodded, and shouldered their shovels.






Not an hour later, a second body lay beside the first - a young man this time.  The two figures carrying him set him carefully down beside the woman.  Perched on the wall, a large black bird eyed the bodies speculatively, before taking wing and gliding off across the city.

One of the masked diggers pulled off his gloves, and began unwinding the length of cloth from his face.  The features that emerged were fine, almost delicate, with a definite sign of elven blood.  He dropped the cloth to the ground. "Buried them in his own garden. I can hardly believe it."

The other two had followed suit, their face-wrappings falling away. "I can," said the second - a full-blooded elven woman whose face looked as if it had been chiseled out of stone. She showed no trace of expression as she looked down at the bodies, running a hand through her ragged black hair. "But then again, you never had to deal with him."

The third nodded his agreement. He was a tall man, thin and wiry, and his normally amused expression was dampened by the morning's work.  He reached down and picked his sword up from where he'd laid it in the grass, and slung it over his shoulder.  "He probably expected the vines to get rid of the evidence," he mused.  "In fact, that's probably what killed them in the first place."  His eyes darted towards the luscious red berries dangling from the plant in question.  "Trust me, Antone, it's a good thing these wrappings worked.  Otherwise Hallfred would have spent all his time dragging us away from the fruit."

The big man just grinned.






"He's guilty," Dru said flatly as they walked across the marketplace towards the Platinum Quill.

Di'Fier glanced over at his partner.  He was used to her snap judgements, but usually she had some reason. _And I have to admit,_ he mused, _she's often right.

"He saw us and looked scared," the elven Watchman continued.  

Of course, that may be because everyone in this city is guilty of something..., Di'Fier thought. And nobody likes to see four armed Watchmen making a beeline for them...  The raven that rested on the pommel of his sword took wing to circle behind the shop as the Watchmen politely waited for the man to finish his business.  Antone and Hallfred flanked the entrance as Dru and Di'Fier went in.

Pushing past the exiting merchant, Dru leaned forward, her knuckles on the table. "Why did you lie to us about the journeyman?"

The man was taken aback. "The, ah, journeyman? Which one?"

Di'Fier described the boy they had found in the garden. "You said you'd never met him."

Confusion flickered across the man's eyes. "Yes, he was here..."

Dru reflexively reached for the man's shirt, only stopping herself at the last moment.  "The one we talked to you about?" she demanded.

"Watchman..." the man swallowed, nervously brushing wrinkles from his clothes, "I have never seen you before in my life."






"I didn't buy them...and he hasn't been back."  The woman looked nervously between the two guards, as if hoping for their approval.

Dru frowned.  Usually nobody's this scared until I threaten them a few times.  Maybe I'm getting a reputation.

As she and Di'Fier turned to leave, the woman called out. "You'll tell him I did as he asked?"  Her voice was tinged with fear - almost hysteria.

Dru whirled. "Who?" she snapped.

"Your father."






"This is getting far too complicated," complained Dru as she sat down across from her partner. "First Catellion at the Quill claims he's never seen us before in his life."

Di'Fier nodded. "That shouldn't surprise us, since we already know that Kenzil can disguise himself."

"Then Roseshade the shuffler is threatened by my father if she buys the contracts," Dru continued.

"I'll bet if we talked to other shufflers we'd hear the same thing."

"And now Arrasti and Zahad have both had offers from an unknown person to destroy the contracts for a certain amount of money," she finished, taking a long drink from her tankard.

"It sounds like Kenzil can't find any buyers, and he's trying to make the money any way he can."  Di'Fier leaned back in his chair and sipped his own drink.  "And since we've got the place where he's supposed to meet each of them...I think it's time to pull off a little scam of our own."






Di'Fier pounded up the stairs.  His lungs burned from the exertion, and tracers of fire wound their way across his chest where the wizard's magic missile had slammed into him. How can he move that fast?

It had started so well.  He and Dru had arrived, disguised as Arrasti's guards. They'd even made the swap for the contract.  Sure, the wizard was invisible, but Di'Fier had planned for that.  What he hadn't planned for was the speed at which the wizard seemed to be able to move...and cast his spells.

Even as he had finished casting see invisible, the wizard had been chanting as well. He'd dodged Di'Fier's blade as if the guardsman had been moving in slow motion, and then started summoning hounds from the air. At least these ones didn't breathe fire.

At least Dru can see him now, Di'Fier grimaced as he bumped his arm into the wall, and the pain shot across his chest again. His partner had run right past the wizard earlier. And he can't have many spells left...

Ahead of him, the wizard turned.






"And when he went to run past me," Dru gestured with the skewer she was gnawing the meat from, "Wham. Right in the leg.  He never saw it coming.  Should have seen the look on his face right before it slammed into the floor."  Her audience laughed.

Di'Fier was lost in his own thoughts, though. I can't believe he's out on bail already, he sighed. It's like someone was just waiting for him to get arrested. He took a long drink of the Lantern's finest. Oh, well.  We recovered the contracts, and Kathkallan is ecstatic.  We could have had permanent jobs heading up his security forces...but there's still plenty to do here in Freeport.  Maybe someday...






The wizard Kenzil knelt in the opulent, dimly lit cabin. The tide gently swayed the ship from side to side.  The massive bestial forms of two ogres, bent almost double, flanked the kneeling wizard, making him feel even smaller.

Somehow, the man he knelt in front of didn't seem to be dwarfed by the ogres at all. Perhaps it was the mute deference they paid him, or the regal confidence with which he held himself.  The captain swirled the rich red liquid in his snifter as he looked down at the wizard.

"Your gifts were very impressive," he purred, his rich voice filling the room. "Aside from the dagger, which was a poor forgery." He smirked at the wizard's reaction. "I see my tastes are well known.

"Th-there are more," stammered Kenzil. "The statues, the painting..."

"Hm, yes. The items which were too large for you to move in your condition.  Perhaps I shall send my men for them in the morning.  But that is not what I want."  He raised the glass to delicately inhale the scent of his drink. "I have need of a wizard, and you will perform admirably."  

The captain's smile seemed warm, but it still managed to chill Kenzil to the bone. The wizard forced the words out. "I will...serve you."

"Yes. Yes, you will. One way or another."  And Bloody Jenkins smiled._


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Session Eleven, Part One: (placeholder only)*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *OK, I'm going to admit it - I have writer's block on the first part of Session Eleven (the rematch with Kenzil). I've tried to start it about six times and never gotten anywhere that I'm happy with.  I'm beginning to think that this is the downside of going to story format...log format would be much easier, and if I keep beating my head against the wall I may flip back to that.
> *




Writer's block sucks 
Go on, drnuncheon, you can do it! relax a bit and try again. And again!  (I want my freeport update)

And if you don't arrive, at least tell us your opinions about the Freeport book...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eleven, Part Two: Shipping News Special Edition*

_Compiler's Note: The following clipping from the Freeport broadsheet "The Shipping News" was published in the wake of the undead uprising that occurred just before Swagfest this year.  The opinions are most certainly not those of yr. humble chronicler, and are displayed here merely in the interest of providing an alternate viewpoint - in addition to providing my gentle readers with further information about the situation in Freeport, the reporting of which I have been intolerably lax in of late.

It has also been pointed out to me that past editions of this Story Hour have inaccurately referred to Dru and Di'Fier as 'guards' and 'guardsmen'. Reader "D.N." informs me that Dru and Di'Fier are members of the Watch, and that they do real work, unlike members of a certain other organization who she refuses to mention (but see my notes in the Rogues Gallery for a potential insight).  My most heartfelt and humble apologies to Watch-Lieutenants Dru and Di'Fier._



		Code:
	

[color=silver]
[size=4][b]
Undead Invade City, 
      Watch Invades Sanitarium[/b][/size]

FREEPORT -    As their comrades bravely
battled the hordes of walking dead that
invaded  the city,  four Watchmen crept
off to break into the sanitarium on the
outskirts  of  the  Old  City on an un-
disclosed mission that cost one of them
his life.

These Watchmen,  led by notorious Watch
trouble-makers  Di'Fier   and  Drusilia
Nailo, entered the grounds,  where  the
3rd Watchman,  new recruit Paden Black-
batel,  used some  form  of necromantic
ability to  gain control of the  undead
outside of the building!   If the Watch
is now recruiting  potential masters of
the dark arts,  it is a rather chilling
prospect indeed, and one which does not
bode well for our fair city.

Their  actions   after   entering   the
building  are   uncertain,   but   this
reporter had the  opportunity to  visit
the  site  of the  carnage,  where  the
Watch claims  they  battled  legions of
the  walking  dead,  including  ghostly
manifestations that attacked their very
soul,  and some form of  ghoulish ogre.
Unfortunately,  the  physical  evidence
for their outlandish  tale is lacking -
of all  of  the  alleged undead,  not a
single one could be produced.

It was clear  that [i]something[/i]  occurred,
however, as the residents of the asylum
had been savagely  butchered,  and  the
fourth Watchman,  one Hallfred by name,
met his  gory end  in catacombs beneath
the site.   Watch-Lieutenants Nailo and
Di'Fier  are  no  strangers  to  either
bizarre claims or unofficial  so-called
"investigations"  based  on  their  own
paranoid  delusions  -   witness  their
claims of a secret cult of snake-people
operating  unseen  in our city,  claims
which led  to the temporary  suspension
of their duties  after a  confrontation
with  High Priest Thuron of the  Temple
of Knowledge.

Sources say  that in  recent weeks  the
officers  in question  had been  asking
questions  about  one  Amarylis  Green-
bottle, a noted halfling brewer who had
recently been admitted  to the facility
after a breakdown.  Is it possible that
the  entire episode  was engineered  to
gain access to Greenbottle?

Brother Norton  of the city's Temple of
Knowledge,  had this  to say about  the
pair:   "Ah- ah- ah...  kni ... knives.
S-s-snakes."   The traumatized  brother
was  found  in  the  basement   of  the
sanitarium,  where he was placed  after
the recent bloody attack on the  Temple
of Knowledge  -  an incident,  we might
add, that the Watchmen in question were
also  involved in.   Brother Norton has
since been transferred to the Temple on
the mainland  where he can  receive the
care  and attention  due someone in his
unfortunate condition.

It is clear from the  evidence that the
City Watch  is covering  something  up,
and we may never know the  truth behind
their  bloody foray  unless a  full and
accurate accounting  for their  actions
is  demanded by the  citizenry  of this
city.
[/COLOR]


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Cool...*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Now, about this Kenzil... *




Yes, about this Kenzil...

J


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Dr. Nuncheon decided to have character reactions to this bit of fine journalism, so here goes. 

Dru limped wearily into The Rusty Lantern, the city’s semi-official Watch tavern, and slumped down at a table full of her fellows, with faint nod to those closest to her.  For once she was without her partner, Di’Fier.  “We don’t get paid enough for this job,” she muttered to them.
	There was a chorus of agreement, and then Jafar brought out a folded copy of “The Shipping News.”  “Dru,” he whispered raggedly, with his long-damaged voice, “Have you read the latest about you and Di’Fier?”
	Dru’s eyes narrowed when she glanced at the paper.  “No,” she said with a sigh.  “What do they have to say about us this time?”  The elf ran a hand through her hair roughly,  before reaching out and snatching the paper.  He eyes skimmed hurriedly over the less than flattering article, while the rest of those at the table watched her with mingled amusement and concern.  More than one man was fully prepared to leap away from the table, if she decided to have an outburst.
	She glanced up, chuckling.  “Notorious troublemakers?  Seems that we’ve been doing our jobs, at least...”  She looked back down, and kept reading.   She started scowling as she read on.  “Potential masters of the dark arts?  Paranoid delusions?”  With a snort, the elf dropped the paper back down onto the tabletop.
	There was an almost inaudible sigh of relief around the table, one that Dru seemed to be unaware of.  Jafar whispered, “I don’t think he likes you much.”
	Dru chuckled.  “Oh, he’s been irritable ever since Di’Fier and I wouldn’t give him an interview once.”  She paused, brows wrinkling in thought.  “Or maybe because I chased him out of the Watch Headquarters with my sword...”  With a shrug, she says, “Who knows, really?”
	She seemed oblivious to the glances that the others watchmen gave each other, and gestured for the barkeep.  “Ale,” she said, almost cheerfully, putting the incident from her mind


----------



## Jon Potter

*Nice change of pace,,,*

... two changes actually.

I like the device of the 'news clipping' and hearing from Dru was also quite welcome.

Of course, this does make me all the more excited to eventually read what happened in Session Eleven, Part One. Not the least reason being to find out more about this mysterious practitioner of the necromantic arts...


----------



## Horacio

Hey, the newspaper format was really amusing. Congratulations for sucha nice way of riding off the writer's block!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Nice change of pace,,,*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *... two changes actually.
> 
> I like the device of the 'news clipping' and hearing from Dru was also quite welcome.*




With any luck Di'Fier will also post a bit, although his access isn't as steady as Dru's and mine.



> *
> Of course, this does make me all the more excited to eventually read what happened in Session Eleven, Part One. Not the least reason being to find out more about this mysterious practitioner of the necromantic arts... *




Gee, I wonder why?  

Actually, Part One is the rematch with Kenzil.  The "real story" of the article in Part Two will be coming up (er, in Part Three, I guess), in which everyone will get to met Watch-Private Paden Blackbatel - the first of the entries in the Create-a-Cohort contest to show up.

Paden was submitted by Mr. Jon Potter, and saved Dru and Di'Fier's bacon more than once...but you'll hear about that soon. (I've got to wait for the special effects people to show up with the second truckload of gore...)

J


----------



## Thorntangle

Will you post Paden Blackbatel in the Rogue's Gallery or is he a secret to keep from your players?


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Will you post Paden Blackbatel in the Rogue's Gallery or is he a secret to keep from your players? *




I'll throw him up there eventually, I expect, or Jon could (unless he doesn't want me to!) - I can't remember anything offhand that would have to be hidden.

J


----------



## DiFier

Here is Di'fier's reaction.  there may be more to this story coming later:


The latest edition of "The Shipping News" slipped to the floor . . sliced neatly in half . . . along with the table below it. 

Di'fier sheathed his sword and smiled up at Ampiel who had flown into the rafters.

“Better?” the bird asked

“Yeah. . . Damn it, I broke another table.”  He left the table where it was he’d take it out to the firewood stack later.  Ampiel just laughed.  He snatched up the two halves of the paper and sat in the overstuffed chair rereading the article, wondering who had slipped it under his door.  

That guy has it in for us, ever since Dru chased him out of the watch headquarters.  He kept getting in the way while trying to get an interview; we were just too busy to interview with him at the time.   

It was still early.  Di’fier stuffed the two half’s of the paper into his pocket and opened the door.  Ampiel landed on the pommel of his bastard sword and he quickly closed the door . . . eventually deciding to go the rusty lantern for a few drinks before telling Dru about the article.  He’d hate to how she will react to this.  . .


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I'll throw him up there eventually, I expect, or Jon could (unless he doesn't want me to!) - I can't remember anything offhand that would have to be hidden.
> 
> J *




Go for it.

He's yours now to do with as you wish. I'm just glad he proved interesting enough to be included. I thought he was, but I'm somewhat partial.

I'll leave the posting to you.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eleven: The Lost Episode*

_*Compiler's Note*: Ihave added the Lost Episode here, in chronological order. To do this properly, I've had to move Session Eleven: Brief Interlude to a later post.  So if things look a bit confused, or people are responding to posts that aren't there, that's what happened.  Now, on with the story!_

(collaboratively written by Dru, Di'Fier, and drnuncheon)

Dru tipped back her tankard of ale, letting a goodly amount of the burning liquid pour down her throat.  "So then," she said.  "You want to know the truth of what happened at the Asylum that night... "  She set down the tankard, looking up at the gathered faces of her fellow guardsmen.  "I still get the chills when I think of that night," she said bleakly.  She glanced over as the Rusty Lantern's door opened, and her partner's shape, complete with raven on shoulder, was silhoutted briefly, before stepping the rest of the way into the tavern.  The elven woman nodded once to him, kicking out an empty chair.  "Di'Fier," she said.  "I was just getting ready to tell the story of the Asylum."

"Ah, so I guess you all saw the ‘Shipping News'?" The tall mage spun the chair around, resting his arms on the back and leaning it forward on two legs.  "Please go ahead."

Taking another steadying drink, Dru continued. "Well, Captain Donnach called us in that night.  As you all know, the entire force was out on the streets, due to large amounts of undead rampaging about...  we were told that we had a special task to do.  This is when we were told that the undead seemed to be converging upon the asylum for some unknown reason.  No one knew the status of what was going on inside, or if there were any people still alive, but that is what we were to find out."  Dru grinned then, taking another sip of ale.  "Despite our rather impressive martial prowess, Captain Donac decided that we needed help.  We were Payden," she said, nodding at the grim faced cleric, and," she paused, sighing, "Hallfred."  A respectful silence fell over the table for a couple of moments, remembering the dead.

After a moment, Dru continued.  "The four of us went immediately to the asylum, fearing for the lives of those inside, especially young Norton, an acolyte from the Temple of Knowledge that we had become friends with."  Dru somehow managed to leave out the fact that she had terrorized the young man, and was probably part of the reason for him being in the asylum to begin with.

"Norton really liked Dru." Di'fier added with only a hint of sarcasm.  

"As soon as we entered the gate surrounded the asylum, it became obvious that there was something wrong."  Dru stopped to take a sip of ale to wet her throat.

"Why was that?" whispered Jaffar.

Dru grinned at him over her tankard.  "Because there was a cluster of skeletons standing on the front steps," she said, eliciting chuckles from the rest of the group. 

"Skeletons _and_ sombies. About a dozen of them," Di'Fier corrected. 

"They weren't paying that much attention to us, though.  It seemed like they were focused on the door, waiting for someone to come out."

"Anyway, we decided that we needed to attack the skeletons to get into the asylum.  As all of you know, skeletons are hard to fight with a blade."  Dru scowled.  "The very nerve.  It's unnatural to not be able to skewer something that moves with a sword..." 

"Hey," Di'Fier objected. "I yelled for everyone to use maces on them. _I_ had one.  Especially after last time."

Paden nodded. "It should be official Watch equipment."

"With any luck, we won't need them anymore." Dru swilled down more of her drink. "In any case, fight we did.  The battle was already going poorly for us, when Payden here did something that I wish I could do..."

"Me too."

"He ordered the skeletons to stand down - that must have been what the News meant by 'dark arts.'   It was nothing less than the skeletons bowing to the superior power of a god," she said, nodding once more to Payden.  Dru continued.  "In fact, Payden was even able to take control of some of the skeletons, and we used them as foot soldiers for a good way through the asylum before they were destroyed."

The Watch-priest allowed himself a small, amused smile. "Retribution is sometimes ironic, and using an enemy's own soldiers to destroy him is justice of a sort.  Some priests would have blasted them to ashes, but I feel that my way is more...efficient."

"Once we got into the front door,  we had to fight a..."  Dru stopped, frowning, and looking at Di'Fier.  "I can't remember.  It may have been a ghoul... I can't remember if we fought anything on the other side of the door or not..."

"It certainlly smelled like a ghoul, but it wasn't much of a guard.  After that we slowly made our way along the main corridor to the center of the building, then flipped a coin and went to the left..."

Dru picked the tale back up. "Eventually, we went into a room.  Even before we opened the door, we could hear music inside."

"Noise, more like.  But you could tell it was trying to be music." Paden called for refills.  

"When we stepped inside, we saw something that I hope that I never have to see again.  There were skeletons and zombies..._dancing_ together.  I kid you not.  They were dancing.  Took absolutely no notice of us.  After staring for a couple of moments, we just shut the door on them, leaving them to their fun."  The elf smirked at the disbelieving expressions on the others' faces.  "I am not lying," she said.

"It was a waltz." Paden set the fresh drinks in front of Dru, Di'Fier, and himself.

"Actually, it was kind of funny," Di'Fier interjected. "If I ever have to deal with the undead again, dancing skeletons and zombies that ignore us are what I want to run into.  The best part was the ‘band'. They were terrible.  There was even a skeleton trying to play the flute..." He paused to let that sink in.  "Think about it." 

"Anyway, we moved on, and heard weeping on the other side of another door.  I thought that we might actually be able to rescue someone that was still alive, and so was more than willing to burst in.  It turned out to be another undead creature...I don't know why it was crying.  Probably for the same reason that the others were dancing."

Paden looked into his mug thoughtfully.  "It was almost like they were trying to be alive," he said thoughtfully.  "Given what you said about their leader..."

Dru shrugged and continued the tale. "Anyway, it leapt at us, and we made pretty short work of it with our swords, as I remember.  Then there was an incident in the surgery." 

"This was upstairs," Di'Fier filled in. "We decieded to go upstairs first cause we knew there was only one floor above us and who know how many floor below us.  So we opened the first door we came to."

"It didn't have anybody or anything in it, so we were just about to shut the door when two scalpels animated themselves and flew across the room at us."

"There were four," Di'Fier interrupted.  "We closed the door on two of them. They were still sticking in it when our backup made a sweep of the place after it was all over."

"I batted one away with my sword, sending it winging across the room.  They flew back, and got trapped inside of the ribcage of one of our skeleton friends.  That was," she added,  "One of the more ingenious uses for a skeleton that I've ever seen."

Paden smiled.  "It wasn't exactly intentional.  They seemed to be attacking whatever was moving, and they weren't bright enough to realize that they couldn't do much to bone."

"Then there was the animal room."  The elf shuddered again, taking a long swallow of ale.  "It was full of cages, some of them containing animals. Unfortunately for us, most of the animals were out of their cages... and were undead.  There were zombie dogs and zombie snakes!  Anyway, we did fight them off, destroying all of them.  I felt sorry for the dogs, but what happened to the humans was far worse.  But that's later in the story."

Dru sighed.  "And then there was the undead ogre."

Di'Fier waved his hand. "Wait, wait, that was later.  We searched around the floor more.  That's when we found the cells and ghouls." 

"You're right, I'd forgottten about the ghouls.  They were...feasting on something.  I don't want to know what it was, or who it had been."

Paden dropped his eyes to his mug. "There wasn't enough left to identify it by that point.  We couldn't even ask it who it had been."

"Paden rebuked them, making them cower away from him."  Di'Fier took over, filling in the missing details. "We went down the hall, checking the various cells.   Most of them were empty, a few of them had very still forms in them.  We left them there, assuming that they were either dead or safer in their cells than with us."

Paden sighed.  "_We_ may have been safer leaving them in the cells." He looked levelly at Dru and Di'Fier.  "At least one of the people that we thought were chained up was missing when the cleanup crew went in.  I think I'd rather believe that it was undead, because the alternative is that those things took him with them when they fled..."

There was a long pause as the assembled Watchmen thought about just what that implied.  Finally, Dru broke the silence. "Then we went downstairs.  I think that was the worst."

Paden nodded.  "The first things we found were huge barrels. When we opened them..." He shuddered.  Some things could chill the heart of even a priest of Retribution.  "They were saving some of their...food...for later.  I think we must have made too much noise, because we could hear something coming down the corridor."

"That was the ogre," Di'Fier confirmed.

"It wasn't very smart," Dru half-chuckled. "It thought that we were new undead.  It thought that we were zombies, and was upset that we seemed to be getting ready to go into what it called ‘the skeleton room.'  It lead us to the ‘zombie room'.  We ended up having to fight it, of course, because it figured out that we weren't zombies..."

"Hey..." Di'Fier said in a deep voice, his face assuming a blank, vapid stare.  "Zombies am not _talking_!" The Watchmen laughed at his impression, and he shrugged, with a smile.  "So we killed it."

"But then there were the shadow creatures.  They came through the walls at us, and our swords passed right through them!  One of them moved towards me, and I felt my strength being leeched out of me by it."  Dru shuddered at the thought. "I thought that it was all over for me then, but then Payden rebuked them.  They cowered back, going into their room.  I think that we did the only sensible thing at the time... we fled.  I was afraid that we would have to face them again, but for the moment, we were trying to get at the source of all of these undead."

"Around the corner, we found another door.  On the other side was something that would terrify your most hardened warrior. There was a hovering creature, with tenacles, that seemed to be over a...a _rip_ of some kind, just hanging there in the air, like the world had been torn open.  The creature was making these gibbering noises, that made no sense, and were very distracting...it was  fascinating.  It-it sounded almost like a language that I could understand, but couldn't quite grasp.  I don't know how long I would have stood there if Hallfred hadn't started shaking me.

"It was another creature that our swords seemed to pass through without injuring, but only part of the time.  Sometimes, we would be able to hit it, and seemed to be able to hurt it.  Finally, the death blow was dealt to it...I can't even remember which one of us did it...and then the gibbering stopped.  At least, it did out loud.  I could still hear it in my head, and it was very distracting.  I think that there were some others affected by that as well," she said, glancing at Di'Fier and Paden.

They both nodded.

"But that left the rift.  I couldn't think of any way that we could deal with the rift without killing ourselves, except for one, and that was even a guess. I guess that's more Paden's story, though."

The young acolyte looked uncomfortable as the attention shifted to him. "Ah..." he said, not sure where to begin. "Well, up on the first floor, we had found the office of the person in charge of the asylum, and we'd found a small cache of supplies that we appropriated for official use." He coughed. "Although we failed to leave a receipt.  In any case, one of the items was a scroll of dispelling, which Dru asked me to use - I think we all hoped that the rift was something magical, and that the spell would get rid of it."

"I could feel it fighting me as I read the spell from the scroll.  The magic almost wasn't strong enough, but I somehow managed to pull it closed and seal the rift behind it."  Paden shivered. _It was close...too close,_ he thought to himself.  _I could feel whatever was beyond that tear calling me, reaching for me..._  He shook himself free of his thughts to find that Dru had continued.

"We were in some catacombs, fighting all sorts of undead that we would have to get through to get to a throne, with some kind of creature sitting on it.  We knew, without a doubt, that this enthroned creature was the cause of this entire incident, but we had to hack our way through its minions first.

"A pack of ghouls tried to circle around and flank us, and Paden and Hallfred moved to stop them.  We were able to slay the other creatures...wights, I think they were - but I'm still not sure what happened on the other side."  Dru looked over at Paden.

Blackbatel closed his eyes a moment, remembering Hallfred.  Without opening them, he began to speak in a low voice, reliving the fight in his mind.  "We knew we couldn't let the ghouls get around behind us - we'd be surrounded and torn to pieces.  Hallfred and I knew that if we could hold them at the narrow point in the corridor, we could keep a line of retreat open for all of us."

"Hallfred was amazing.  The ghouls kept tearing at him, and he kept fighting.  I don't know how he did it. He cracked one's skull open, wounded another, and then his luck ran out.  His muscles froze up and he toppled over."

Dru took a breath. "That was when we heard you scream."

"Yes.  I tried to fight them off of him, but one of them clawed me, and I was paralyzed too."  Paden's voice was flat, with iron control.  "I had to watch as they tore his throat out.  I would have been next, if Dru and Di'Fier hadn't finished off their enemies and come charging around the corner."

"Couldn't you have saved him?" rasped Jaffar. "I mean, called on your God? Like you did with the other ghouls?"

Paden shook his head, eyes still closed.  "No.  I'd called on that power too often.  I couldn't channel any more of his power until I rested."

The silence hung heavy over the crowd.  Again, Dru was the one to break it.  "Between Di'Fier and I, we finished off the rest of the ghouls...although Di'Fier fell victim to the ghoul's touch as well."

"So it was just you?" asked Arinbjorn. "You were lucky.  If you'd have been paralyzed, it would have been all over for everybody."

Antone smiled. "Actually, elven blood resists the touch of the ghoul, so Dru was quite safe."  Seeing her look, he hastily added, "Aside from the fact that they still could have clawed her to pieces, I mean."

Dru waited until the others were done, then resumed her story.  "I finished the last one off, and then gave a paralysis removal potion to Di'Fier. The two of us stood over Payden, after I poured a couple of healing potions down his throat, to protect him while he was immobile.

"And then the thing on the throne finally noticed us, and came around to our side of the pillars.  It floated through the air, like an empty robe with two red eyes, and a bent piece of wire that I think was supposed to be a crown.

"I was afraid that it was going to be another battle, and as weakened and injured as we were, with one of our comrades dead and the other paralyzed, I knew that it would be over for us if it came to that.  But it stared at us, and said rather plaintively, ‘There was supposed to be an army.  This was supposed to be my revenge.  What have you done?'  And then it very sadly floated off, through a wall, and was gone."

Arinbjorn gaped. "So...it just _left_?"

Dru nodded.  "It seemed sort of...pathetic, in a way.  Not what you'd expect from a lord of the undead.  I have to wonder if it wasn't an inmate, before it became...whatever it was."

"I think with the rift gone, its plans were ruined," Di'Fier agreed.  "And it's a good thing it left...we were in no shape to fight it."

Jaffar whispered, "Let's hope it never comes back."







Paden Blackbatel sat alone at a small table in the back of the Rusty Lantern.  Jaffar's question still echoed in his ears: _Couldn't you have saved him?_  And his answer: _No...I'd called on that power too often._ His answer? No...his lie.

He had been afraid.  He had looked into the rift, and known _that_ was what he touched - every time he channeled his will against the undead.  That blackness was what had let him command the skeletons.  The cold was what made the ghouls fear him.  And it was always there, waiting for him to call on it.

So Paden sat, the other Watchmen leaving him to his thoughts: an endless echo of Jaffar's whispered voice. 

_Couldn't you have saved him?_


----------



## Horacio

Wow!

Your style is even better in that last post!
It seems your writer's block is over


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eleven: Brief Interlude*

_*Compiler's Note*: This post has been moved. Please see the note for "The Lost Episode", above, for explanation._

"Cap'n wants t'see you," Jaffar rasped as Dru and Di'Fier entered the Watch headquarters.  The pair shared a glance that seemed to ask, _What did we do now?_ as they headed to the back room.

"Dru. Di'Fier."  Donnach looked up from his desk as the wathmen entered his office. As the door closed behind them, he said, without preamble: "I need your badges."

Di'Fier's brow furrowed.  _Usually he starts yelling at us first._ Dru looked as if she were about to object, but she knew it would do no good.  The twin circles of copper rang on the captain's desk.  He scooped them up, turned behind him, and set two boxes in front of them. 

"Go on. Open them."

The Watchmen reached out for the boxes and opened them. Inside were gleaming circles of silver - detective's badges.

Donnach continued, "Of course, you can't be a sergeant if you're a detective, so consider this a promotion.  And you'll be remaining on day shift, of course." He paused, half-smiled. "Don't celebrate too much. The entire force is on duty for Swagfest."

The pair started to rise and thank him, but he waved them back down. "There's something else.  These came for you."  He handed each a folded letter on fine parchment, closed with a waxen seal - the seal of the Sea Lord.

Di'Fier broke the seal and began to read:

_Watch-Lieutenant Di'Fier is hereby invited to attend the Grand Lighthouse Ball at the Sea Lord's Palace four days hence, where he will receive the Order of Drac for his part in the defeat of the evil Councillor Verlaine and his services to the City of Freeport.

Formal dress required._

He stared at the paper, trying to make sense of it. _The Order of Drac? Defeating Verlaine?  But they were going to try to frame us for murdering him...and how did he know about our promotions?_






Dru sauntered out of the Captain's office and grinned at Jaffar.  "They took our badges."

For once, the swarthy Watchman looked surprised. "After that bust?" he rasped. All around the room there was the clink of money changing hands.

"They gave us new ones," Dru said, flashing the silver circle.

A brief scuffle as the coins returned to their former owners.

Jaffar chuckled, shook his head. "So you're off the beat. I wonder what poor sucker is going to get stuck on the docks now?"

From the open door behind Dru and Di'Fier, the Captain's voice rang out.  "Jaffar!  Mahmoud! Get in here!"

"Aw, _sh-t_."


----------



## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Nah, I'm still blocked on "The Lost Episode".   It's just everything else I can write...
> 
> I was pondering going back and redoing the early posts into story format at some point.  Opinions?
> 
> J *




If you have the time, and you want to do it, I would love to read it!!!


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## Jon Potter

Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> If you have the time, and you want to do it, I would love to read it!!!  *




I second that, wholeheartedly.


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## drnuncheon

Faithful readers, your patience has not been in vain.  I have _finally_ conquered my writer's block (what CR is that? I wanna figure out the XP) and posted Session Eleven, Part One.  The link is at the bottom of the post.

Meanwhile, Dru and Di'Fier have charged headlong into *Madness in Freeport*, as they race against time to unravel the plans of the Brotherhood before they come to fruition.

The end of *Madness in Freeport* will also be the end of Book One: Brotherhood.  Don't worry, I've got plenty of plans for Book Two: Inheritance - but there's still a lot left to plan.  So, at the end of Book One, drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour will be taking a brief hiatus as Dru runs a short (2-3 session) game and I rest my brain.  (Look for it on these boards - one of us will write it up!)  Then it's back to the mean streets of Freeport...and beyond, as Di'Fier and Dru both discover some surprising things about the people they thought they knew: their families.

Now, without further ado, *Session Eleven, Part One: This is a Bust*
http://www.enworld.org/messageboards/showthread.php?s=&postid=158018#post158018


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## Horacio

HEy, good update, really good!
I want more 

BTW, at last I have Freeport: City of Adventure in my little hands!!!!!!!!!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twelve, Part One: How many people are trying to kill you, anyway?*

_Compiler's Note: This post and those following contain spoilers for the free adventure "Holiday in the Sun", available at Green Ronin's website. On the other hand, they've been twisted from here halfway to the mainland, so you could also amuse yourself by downloading it and seeing the changes that were made.  Except you two, Dru and Di'Fier!_

Swagfest! A celebration of the Great Raid led by Captains Drac and Francisco two hundred years ago - a raid that marked the birth of Freeport as a naval power to be reckoned with, and brought uncounted riches to the city.  

Swagfest! A time of debauchery and decadence, of plunder and pillage, a last blowout before the weather turns and the port is all but closed. 

Swagfest! The rowdiest festival of the year, it shuts down the city for two days: one to celebrate and one to recover.

But this year's Swagfest was more special than most.  It was the bicentennial of the birth of the city, true.  But it had also become a week-long celebration to mark the completion of the project which has dominated the city for the last decade: the Lighthouse of Drac - or, as its detractors called it, "Milton's Folly."

And known only to a few, something else entirely was coming to fruition.  In the dank tunnels below the streets, they waited.  In the winding alleys of the Old City, they watched.  The storms were coming, and far sooner than the citizens of Freeport could guess.






Freeport, perhaps more than any city, thrived on gossip.  The merchants relied on it for advance notice. The beggars sold it for coin and bread. Noble and commoner alike united in their fascination for the stuff.  So it is not unusual that even the dingy headquarters of the City Watch might be a marketplace for rumor and hearsay, as the Watchmen prepare for the festival.

"Looks like Lydon's going all out for this."

"Yeah, he wants the popular support for his Council nomination.  Sucking up to the masses."

"Digging himself deeper, what I heard.  Crookshank said he in big to Finn from his gambling, and Finn ain't too happy that Lydon's throwing a party 'stead of paying him back."

"...heard he hired the Council of Wrath."

The voices paused a moment.

"Yer sh-ttin' me."

"S'what I heard."

"Hell, they got their work cut out for 'em.  You hear who's playing undercover angels to Lydon?"

"Nah, who?"






"Dru, Di'Fier," Jaffar rasped in greeting.  "Antone and me have been checking the crowd just like you said, but it seems pretty usual.  Most'v'em are drunk already."

Behind the three, on the stage that had been assembled, the massive bulk of Captain Lydon was surrounded by his cronies, admirers, and a pair of barely clothed women. Dru eyed the assemblage sourly. "Remind me again how we got into this?"

Her partner shrugged, sending his raven to check on the windows overlooking the square.  "Captain Donnach said he asked for us by name."

"Great. Well, we'd better spread out."

Di'Fier took up a position by the stage, and slipped behind it with a nod to the guard posted there.  Out of sight, he chanted the words to a spell that would allow him to detect magic.  Then, slowly, his concentration on the spell, he moved back into the crowd and began scanning it.

Dru glanced up at the window.  Lydon was about to give his speech, and that was the third time she'd seen movement from it - and not like the other windows, where the onlookers leaned out for a better view. She didn't like it.  Not at all. Pushing into the crowd, she began to use her elbows to jostle her way closer to the stage.

"Aarrrrrr, mateys," the captain roared, and the masses roared back.  "Welcome...to...SWAGFEST!"  More cheers punctuated his words.  "It be my honor to open the festivities this year!"

_Hmm...not much to see,_ thought Di'Fier as he scanned the crowd.  Most of it was quite mundane.  Movement cought his eye, and he turned his gaze onstage. One of Lydon's wenches was adjusting what little clothing covered her, and from here he had an amazing view...but the barest hint of a glow had caught his eye.  A glow that meant magic.

Lydon continued, unaware.  "As ye know, the Sea Lord be busy with his lighthouse," a pause for the requisite chuckle from the onlookers, "and so it fall upon yer humble cap'n to take this duty.  Are ye ready...for _plunder and pillage_?"

_DANGERDEATHPREDATOR!_ The feeling of fear slammed into his brain, and reflexively Di'Fier's head spun towards the source: Ampiel, circling and fluttering at an empty window.  Or was it?

Dru pummeled a swath through the crowd, leaving sore ribs and feet behind her, along with a string of people wondering if the little elven woman had _really_ hit them that hard. She was almost at the base of the stage, and glanced over to see her partner staring at the window.  _Good, he sees it too,_ she thought, and then glanced up at Lydon.  Her eyes widened as she saw a glint of well-concealed steel slip into the hand of one of the wenches flanking him.

Di'Fier fumbled with his wand, trying to get it out in the midst of the crowd, hoping it could reach as far as the shadow at the window.

"Two hundred years ago, the fleet of Freeport first took to the waves!" The sound of the crowd was like those waves, magnified a thousandfold.  Dru could barely hear Lydon, and he'd never hear her in time. "Two mighty captains had we, and the landlubbers shuddered..." 

She lunged.  Her fingers brushed the ankle of the woman, but she was too late. The woman took a step back, her eyes never leaving the Captain.

"...as the cap'n's gave them _fire_..."

An arrow arced through the air towards Lydon.

"_and Freeport steel!_"

The knife went into his back.


----------



## Jon Potter

*Very Nice.*

Good work, as always...


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## Horacio

Yes, as usual, great!


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## drnuncheon

Good grief. Between the time I post that from home and the time I check from work, you guys have both responded.  I guess it's good to have devoted readers. (Horacio, when do you _sleep?_)

Obviously, though, since you're not cursing my name, I need to make my cliffhangers bigger.   Now where'd I put that dragon...?

J

(Jon, I finally saw your mail...after my block broke. Heh. It got caught in my spam filter for some reason, which is why I never wrote back. I wasn't ignoring you!  Thanks for the offer...)


----------



## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> * (Horacio, when do you sleep?)
> *




Why do you think I need to sleep?
Maybe I don't exist really, maybe I'm a sort of AI program designed by Morrus and Piratecat to bump story hours...
Maybe...


----------



## Thorntangle

*Turnips!*

Great updates!  I'm late, but still to be counted as a loyal fan, Doc.

I remember Di'Fier's father and the turnip connection.  I guess the turnip "seeds" planted earlier are growing into fruition?  What does it all mean?  Does Di'Fier's father mastermind an evil turnip cartel in Freeport engineering a capture of the turnip market?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Turnips!*



			
				Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *I remember Di'Fier's father and the turnip connection.  I guess the turnip "seeds" planted earlier are growing into fruition?  What does it all mean?  Does Di'Fier's father mastermind an evil turnip cartel in Freeport engineering a capture of the turnip market? *




Curse you! Yes, Di'Fier's father is in league with Lucius.  Forget vanilla beans, they're driving the price of turnips up!  They plan to use the lighthouse to misdirect ships full of turnips and sink them, thus closing the city off to imported turnips.

But now that you've revealed my insidious plan, I'll have to come up with something else.  Maybe this is all the work of a secret cult of underground snake people...

J
...nah, they'd never buy it...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twelve, Part Two: Like a Rat in a Cage*

Lydon stumbled, twisted, the knife cutting a jagged gash into his side.  The arrow struck home in the stage to his left.  Growling, the would-be assassin raised the knife again.

Dru reached for the Captain's leg to drag him out of danger, but the sailor was operating on instinct, and stumbled away from her grasping hand. Behind her, Di'Fier had finally drawn his wand, and a bolt of arcane energy slammed into the woman on the stage. The Captain ran to the edge of the patform, tripping  and falling to the ground, and in an instant the killer was above him, slashing with the knife.

Dru dove and slid onto the stage, rolling to her feet and drawing her blade.  She caught a flicker of motion from the corner of her eye, and the buckler on her arm knocked a second arrow from the sky. Her wild slash at the assassin did not connect, but drove her into the path of Di'Fier's shortsword. As Lydon crawled to his feet and lumbered forward, the woman slashed him again with her blade - then spun, ducking and twisting under the Watchmen's strikes, and vanished into the dark water of the harbor.

Antone stepped in front of the captain as Di'Fier pointed out the window the arrows were coming from. Dru leapt from the stage to land by Lydon, already pulling a curative potion from her pouch as her partner strung his bow. She tried to shield his bulk behind her body, but an arrow still managed to hit home.  

As Di'Fier raised his bow and aimed, Dru fumbled with the wand of _shield_ she'd taken from Kenzil, trying vainly to make it work.  Her partner released his shaft, which sailed into the window - and the shadowy figure there disappeared farther back into the room.

"Antone, Jaffar! Get to that building!" At Di'Fier's command, the two began shoving their way through the crowds.  _Follow!_ the mage told Ampiel, only to be met with a sense of frustration as the raven battered at the door leading out of the room - a door the sniper had slammed behind him.

Captain Lydon struggled to his feet and dusted himself off, climbing back to the stage.  Someone in the panicking crowd noticed, and the reaction spread: people turned, saw the Captain returning to his place...and the cheers began.

Lydon held up his hands.  "Francisco be not the only cap'n with a knife in his back!" he called, and the crowd roared its approval. "Now...while we wait for the ale..._let Swagfest commence!_" He descended once again, waving to the cheering multitudes.

Dru and Di'Fier flanked him protectively.  He turned to the two of them. "That were a nice bit o'work you did there.  What were yer names again?"

"Dru."

"Di'Fier." The young mage looked across at his partner...who bore a similarly puzzled expression.

"Dru and Di'Fier. I'll remember that.  But now I need to speak with the people." The Captain grinned. "Show them that I'm not afraid.  Stand back, don't be so obvious."  And he moved off.

"Didn't Captain Donnach says he asked for us by name?" frowned Dru.






"He's not the most helpful protectee," grumbled Dru, as they trudged after Lydon. "No idea who's behind it, refuses to let us near him. It's like he _wants_ to be killed."

Ahead, the Captain turned. "Got to let out some of the ale," he roared.  I'll be just down 'ere." With that, he staggered down an alley.

"This is like a bad dream," muttered Di'Fier. "Ampiel, go follow him."  The bird flapped twice from his perch on the mage's shoulder, then flew down the alley after Lydon.

"Where's your sword, anyway?" Dru asked.  "Ampiel's upset that you took his perch away."

Di'Fier chuckled. "He'll have it back soon enough. I left it with Garto - spent some of the money we've collected to have it enchanted.  I want to be ready for anything at the Lighthouse Ball."

"And he was willing to do that during _Swagfest_?" Dru's brow wrinkled. "I can't imagine anyone doing work this week. Except taverners and innkeeps."

Di'Fier shrugged. "He said he drinks himself under the table every other night, and he needed a rest.  He's a strange one."

_MURDERDEATHPREDATOR!_ Di'Fier was running even before the feeling was fully formed, and Dru was a step behind him. As they skidded into the alley, they saw Lydon at the other end, with another man. Ampiel flapped crazily in midair as the two stared at him, then turned to look at the charging Watch.

Lydon pulled a dagger from his belt and slashed the air near the man. "Hah! Attack me will you?" 

The man turned and ran. 

"And stay away!"  Turning to the Watchmen, he grinned.  "Nothing to worry about.  It's about time for One-Eyed Jack's Stand..."






Dru watched the third contestant being untethered from the post and dragged off.  The dozen 'fishmen' leaned on their padded poles as they waited for the next brave soul. She shook her head slowly.  "Humans."

"Dru. Di'Fier." A voice jerked her out of her thoughts.

"Captain Donnach!"

"At ease. I heard there was a little trouble this morning." The Captain looked over the two of them as they nodded. "Good work.  Unfortunately, your undercover status is compromised, so I've assigned Mahmoud and Konstantine to the job.  Take the rest of the afternoon off."

The pair nodded, and headed back to headquarters.

"Where's Donnach?" Dru asked as she came in.

"He headed off to Swagfest. He was looking for you two."

Dru glanced at Di'Fier.  "I guess it really _was_ him."

Her partner shrugged.

"Well, I'm going to go see what the festival is like."

"I think I'm going to sit down and rest for a while," mused Di'Fier. "Maybe read that book we got from the serpent temple.  I'll see you later."






Dru wandered through the wagons that had arrived for Swagfest.  _The quality of the guards he hired is awful,_ she thought. _I didn't even have to try to get back here.  I could be an assassin, or a thief..._

She paused by a large covered wagon, glancing around.  Nobody was watching - they were all consumed in keeping the ale flowing and the other necessities of the festival. She leaned up against the frame...

...and heard a scratching noise.  Faint, persistant scratching.

Warily, she crept around to the end of the wagon. Normally the translucent cover would have let in some afternoon light, but the wagon was parked in the shadow of a building.  She took a moment to let her eyes adjust...and saw movement.

Dru glanced about, and carefully put one foot on the baseboard of the wagon. Levering herself slowly inside, she crept forward until she could see the source of the movement.  

An iron cage with a wooden floor stood behind some crates and boxes.  Its occupant stared up at her from where it had been futilely scratching away at the base of one of the bars.  Its emaciated arms shook from the effort, and the brown fur on them was matted and ill-smelling.  Its naked pink tail twitched feebly in the straw on the cage floor, and whiskers and ears twitched.  And although the pitiful creature seemed far from human, there was no mistaking the light of intelligence in its crimson eyes.


----------



## Vurt

[delurks]

I've been following this story-hour from the beginning as well, and I just wanted to say that it makes for a great read.  dmuncheon, you're doing an awesome job with it, and I always look forward to seeing another message in this thread.  And if I'm even remotely representative of anything, it likely means that there are loads more lurkers who don't regularly chime in when you're making a headcount of your readers.  Good on ya!


----------



## Horacio

Goodgoodgooodgoood, as usual


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twelve, Part Three: The Great Escape*

"I found a demon," Dru informed her partner.

Di'Fier paused, his mouth open, his own news momentarily forgotten. "A _what_?"

"A demon...rat...man." She waved the question of what exactly it was away. "It was trying to get out.  It looks unhealthy."

Di'Fier struggled bravely with Dru's rapid train of thought, then gave up and let it race past him. "Where is it?"

"In a wagon. Come on.  How was your book?"

"Forget the book," Di'Fier said.  "I was walking around the wagons, and I overheard Captain Lydon talking to someone..."







"...get yer money," Lydon said. "But ye should have told me ye were hirin' help! Girl nearly killed me..."

"But, Captain...I didn't hire anyone."

There was a long moment of silence.  Then, quietly, "She damn near ended my sailing days...did you hear that? Someone's coming. Go!"






"Hey! You can't go back here. We're setting up."

A glint of moonlight on silver. "City Watch."

"...oh. Is there a problem?"

"Probably not."

Dru and Di'Fier strolled past the worker and into the knot of wagons. "That's the one the demon is in," Dru commented loudly, and heads swiveled to look at her.

"Demon?" Di'Fier asked.

One of Lydon's guards hurried over. "That's for the rat chase, you don't want to go in there."

Dru sniffed. "I've already _been_ in there. This is for the rat chase, you say? Nothing...nefarious?  Not going to...take over the world with it?"

The guard's mouth opened as he struggled with what to say. Di'Fier stepped in to rescue him. "I'm not going to be in the rat chase. Do you mind if I have a look?"

"Well..." The guard rubbed the back of his neck. "Seeing as how you're the ones who saved the Cap'n, I guess it's OK."  He pulled back the flap, and followed the two Watchmen into the tent, turning up his lantern so the trio could see.

The ratman huddled in the corner of its cage, looking warily up at them.  Dru could see that its paws - no, hands - were carefully folded over the section of wood it had been scratching away at, hiding it from the guard's eyes.  "Where did you get it?"

"The Captain bought it from some traders, said it came from way out west, across the ocean."

"...semis tau..." The rat-thing looked at Dru as if its words could be conveyed by the sheer intensity of its gaze - but the language was none she had ever heard.  The guard didn't seem to notice.

"What did it go for?" Di'Fier asked, digging in his pouch for some jerky. He tossed the dried meat in front of the cage, and it promptly vanished.

"A couple of hundred in gold, but the Cap'n wanted something _special_ for the chase this year.  Something unique, yeah?"

Dru looked it over. "You got that right.  What happens if nobody catches it?"

The guard shrugged. "Nobody gets the prize."

"Huh. Well, thanks." Dru led the way out of the wagon, with Di'Fier just behind. After they had vanished into the maze of alleys, she leaned closer to him. "It tried to talk to us, Di'Fier. It's intelligent."

He nodded. "So it's against the law to enslave it like that.  But it's not on the books as intelligent.  So..."

"...we free it. Him.  I'll buy a cloak to put over it, then you can turn me invisible and I'll slip inside and let him go."

"All right.  I'll make a distraction."






A drunken sailor staggered through the Freeport night, his parrot on his shoulder and a bottle in his hand. The moon was a mere sliver above his head, but he seemed to know his way despite the drink, as he weaved through the collection of wagons.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be back here..."

"Ah, ish all right...I jush, just brought some rum..." Most of it on his clothes, judging from the smell.  Even the parrot seemed to be swaying a bit on its perch. "Have a drink."

"Well, if you insist."

The sailor passed over the bottle, belched once, and broke into song. A surprisingly clear baritone rose over the docks in an old longshoreman's shanty that soon had the guards grinning and clapping along.  

_I didn't know he could sing_, thought Dru as she darted across the alley. Even if she was invisible, there was no point in taking chances. Without a sound she boarded the wagon, as the disgused Di'Fier attracted even more attention with his lusty ditty.

As she approached the cage, she could see the rat sniffing the air, looking around to see who was producing this new odor.  "Shh, it's me," she said, trying to reassure him.  _Hopefully he recognizes my voice._ "I've come to set you free."

The darkness made picking the lock all the more difficult, but within a few moments it was open, and she swung the cage door wide.  As the creature crawled from his erstwhile prison, she handed the cloak to him.  He nodded, and draped it around his shoulders, pulling the hood up to discuise his features.  _Well, almost disguised.  But he's definitely intelligent._

As she peeked out of the wagon, she saw trouble.  Di'Fier had exhausted his knowledge of dockside shanties and was making a rather miserable attempt at a hornpipe. The guards and workers were drifting away, and one of them was heading straight for their wagon.

"_Run_," she said, and even if the rat did not understand the word, the urgency in her voice was clear. He darted out the door, Dru pelting along behind him - barely able to keep up, even with the creature as ill as was.

"Hey...HEY! The rat's out!  It's loose! HEY!" Footsteps began to follow them: jogging, then breaking into a run.  

She reached out, grabbed the rat's arm, and swung him around a corner. "This way!" A few steps took her to one of the grates set into the ground. She knelt and heaved, and with a squeal of protesting iron, it opened. "Down here. Come on."

Dru and the rat-man descended into darkness.






Di'Fier staggered into an alley, looked about to assure himself that nobody was watching, and let the magic lapse. On his shoulder, Ampiel too resumed his normal appearance.  "Well, they got out of there," he said. "Just in time, too. I thought I was going to wet myself."  He stepped over to the side of the alley.

As he finished up, an odd odor struck his nose.  Freeport - especially the Docks - was full of odd odors, but this one seemed wrong somehow. He peered around the darkened alley, finally calling a globe of light into being to hover above his hand.

From a doorway, a thick, dark trail of liquid ran into the street.  Di'Fier stepped forward, the light illuminating what had once been a woman.

She was dressed in gaudy red and gold, such as a performer might wear, but her face had been mutilated beyond recognition.  The jacket had been torn asunder along with her chest.  

Her ribs were cracked and spread apart.

Her heart was missing.


----------



## Horacio

Wow, my friend, your updates are more and more wonderful...


----------



## Thorntangle

Doc, I agree with Horacio (as I usually do).  You are really coming into your own with your writing style.  I really like the way you cut from scene to scene, even going back in time to replay dialogue from a scene.  Very effective and a pleasure to read.


----------



## drnuncheon

Vurt, always great to hear from someone new. Thanks for posting! Hopefully some more lurkers will follow your example.

Horacio, you are my favorite French person. (Well, favorite living one anyway - I'm rather fond of Dumas and Edmund Rostand as well.)  Your enthusiasm helps keep me writing, because I know you'll read it within half an hour of my posting.  

Thorntangle, I must admit, a lot of that technique is born from sheer laziness.  I only scribble my notes on the highlights of a session, so I have to fill in the rest of it later, from my rather dodgy memory - and sometimes it's not up to the task.  Either that or I can't face the idea of writing up three pages of dialogue with Dru and Di'Fier interrogating helpless merchants... (I did that a lot in the "Thirds of Purloined Vellum" writeups, as you'll notice.)

I'm thinking about collecting Book One (after it finishes...just a couple more sessions folks!) and putting it up somewhere for download, if there's interest.  I'd probably throw it up as a set of zipped Word files for PC users, a gzipped tar file (text only) for Unix, and a .sit archive of Simpletext files for Macs.  Maybe if I can get Di'Fier to draw a couple of pics I'll include those too.

J


----------



## Jon Potter

*I can only agree...*

I'm thrilled every time I log on and find an update!

And I'd almost forgotten about the bit with the missing hearts.

Are we coming up to the asylum or is it one of the "lost posts". I have to confess that I'm a little confused with the timeline since I know that you've discussed in-game events that haven't yet made it into the Storyhour both here and on the GR boards.

But other than my head reeling a bit trying to follow your multiple plot threads, I have nothing but praise for your efforts.


----------



## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Horacio, you are my favorite French person. (Well, favorite living one anyway - I'm rather fond of Dumas and Edmund Rostand as well.)  Your enthusiasm helps keep me writing, because I know you'll read it within half an hour of my posting.  *




Living in France doesn't make me a French 
(I'm Spanish )
But thanks a lot for the flattery 



> *I'm thinking about collecting Book One (after it finishes...just a couple more sessions folks!) and putting it up somewhere for download, if there's interest.  I'd probably throw it up as a set of zipped Word files for PC users, a gzipped tar file (text only) for Unix, and a .sit archive of Simpletext files for Macs.  Maybe if I can get Di'Fier to draw a couple of pics I'll include those too.
> J *




If you need some place to put them, I have a nice website waiting for your work. 
If you give me a week, I can even design a web page to put your story into. Seriously.

_Edit: This is my 1111 post!!!!!!_


----------



## drnuncheon

> _Originally posted by Horacio _*
> Living in France doesn't make me a French
> (I'm Spanish )
> But thanks a lot for the flattery
> *




Well, you're my favorite non-fictional Spaniard then. (Sorry, Inigo Montoya still takes the crown! )

I do have web space, so I don't think that will be a problem (unless hundreds of thousands of people go to dwnload it every day...in which case I have a _lot_ more lurkers than I thought!)



> _Originally posted by Jon Potter _*
> And I'd almost forgotten about the bit with the missing hearts.
> *




I think they had as well. Muahaha...



> _Originally posted by Jon Potter _*
> Are we coming up to the asylum or is it one of the "lost posts". I have to confess that I'm a little confused with the timeline since I know that you've discussed in-game events that haven't yet made it into the Storyhour both here and on the GR boards.
> *




I understand that, I get confused myself sometimes.  The asylum is (at the moment) the last remaining "lost episode" - Dru and Di'Fier have expressed an interest in cooperating to write up the tale, so currently the newspaper clipping is all that's been written.  I will throw draining undead at them until they write it.  

I've got 2 more sessions yet to write up, one of which was a double-length Saturday run.  We finish up with Swagfest, and on the day of the ball, Captain Donnach assigns Dru and Di'Fier to help Spruce back at headquarters, so they don't somehow show up for the ball covered in blood...

J


----------



## Horacio

Iñigo Montoya? The man who said "I'm Iñigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die" (or at least in Spanish he said something like that)? 

Well, so if you have webspace, you have no excuse


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Iñigo Montoya? The man who said "I'm Iñigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die" (or at least in Spanish he said something like that)?  *




Precisely that Inigo Montoya! And the translation is almost perfect. (In the original it was "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.")  One of the best books and best movies ever!  (Probably because William Goldman wrte the screenplay, too.)

J


----------



## drnuncheon

Hm.  Sorry, folks, my schedule is looking like no update until Saturday or so.  Tomorrow I'm working late, and Friday night is the game. As penance I'll put up some more folks in the Rogue's Gallery.

J
...er...tonight? Tonight I'm busy with my new copy of HERO 5th Edition...


----------



## Jon Potter

*All of which begs the question...*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Hm.  Sorry, folks, my schedule is looking like no update until Saturday or so.  Tomorrow I'm working late, and Friday night is the game. As penance I'll put up some more folks in the Rogue's Gallery.
> 
> J
> ...er...tonight? Tonight I'm busy with my new copy of HERO 5th Edition... *




... when do you sleep?


----------



## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *...er...tonight? Tonight I'm busy with my new copy of HERO 5th Edition... *




You too? 

The biggest RPG book I've ever seen... I mean, the BIGGEST!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: All of which begs the question...*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> ... when do you sleep?  *




Hey, only having to sleep 1 night/week costs 1 point...I'm a long time HERO player, I can scrounge that from _somewhere_...



J


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> You too?
> 
> The biggest RPG book I've ever seen... I mean, the BIGGEST!  *




Yeah, I failed to disbelieve when I saw it in the stores. It might not really exist, but I own it.  As for the biggest, the 4e "Big Blue Book" actually weighs in at 10 more pages. but about 1/4" thinner. I guess the pages in 5e are thicker.  Truly a massive tome.  I hope it doesn't scare people off...

J


----------



## Horacio

I stand corrected 

It's the THICKEST rpg book I've ever seen. 
And it's worth every €uro cent I spent on it


----------



## drnuncheon

As I promised, an update to the Rogue's Gallery: Watch-Private Antone, the late Watch-Private Hogni, and Garto, dwarven wizard.

http://www.enworld.org/messageboards/showthread.php?s=&postid=167065#post167065


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Thirteen, Part One*

Below the streets of Freeport, there is only silence and the dark...under normal circumstances, that is.  Of late, the sewers had seen much more use of a less conventional nature.  Those poor unfortunates whose job it is to travel below the streets - for whatever reason - had begin to hear strange things, see signs of tracks not their own...tracks not human.

Had any of these souls been present at this time - instead of above, in the noisy streets and crowds of Swagfest - they might have seen and heard such things: a shimmering blue glow passing along a tunnel, the scrape of boot on stone, a pause, and then the silence broken by a single word: 

"_Sh-t_."






Di'Fier looked down at the body at his feet.  "Ampiel, go and fetch backup." The great black bird croaked once, and lifted off into the night.

The Watchmen knelt. There, in the light, nearly obliterated by the spreding blood - runes, again. He wracked his brain for the meaning of the one most intact. _Transfer? Taking? Something like that..._ The rest were unreadable.

He straightened, turned.  _What went on here?_ He walked slowly around the alley, his eyes searching for any signs. There...on the wall.  He touched the brick-work, and his fingertips came away black.  _Scorch marks...but there's no sign of where the killer went._

Something made him look upward.  There, at the edge of the light, barely glistening...

...a single handprint...

...at the top of a twelve-foot wall.






"Ye bleedin' _idiot_!  What d'ye _mean_ he got away?  Ye'd better find me another rat or it'll be _ye_ they're chasin'!"






Deep in the heart of the Warehouse district, an iron grate gave voice to a rusty complaint as it swung open, and an elven woman's head emerged. The head looked around, swore once. "How in the hells did we get over here? We're almost at the Hammocks..."  The grate settled back into place as the elf vanished.

Below the streets, Dru looked at her rodent companion. "I guess I took a wrong turn.  I'm Dru, by the way." Touching her chest, she repeated loudly: "Dru."

"Sathok."

"Uh-huh. Well, listen, Sathok, I can't exactly take you home with me, so I'm going to take you to the Temple of Knowledge." Even as she spoke she was walking down the tunnels, peering into the gloom. "If I can ever find the right way."  She paused. "What are you looking at?"

The rat-man might not understand the words, but the tone was clear. He extended a finger to point at the dagger in Dru's boot.

"Oh, you want a weapon.  All right." She passed the short blade to him, hilt first, and he promptly flipped it around into a comfortable reverse grip. Dru peered down another passage. "I recognize this. Someone tried to kill me here." She began down the corridor, paused a moment.

Behind her, the rat-man tensed, shifting his grip on the blade...


----------



## Jon Potter

And? And?

Always leave them wanting more.

Isn't that the saying?

Although it seems to be more of a philosophy of life with you.  

Great (and thoroughly unexpected) update.


----------



## Thorntangle

Rat Bastard! (NPC or Story Hour Writer - your choice  )

Your skills at teasing must have been taught to you by the teasingest teases that ever teased.  Probably by the chief teaser in some harem in Asia minor no doubt.


----------



## Horacio

Another cliffhanger! 
AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGG!!!!


----------



## drnuncheon

Ahh, howls of outrage. Now that's what I like to hear.   My 'working late' didn't go as late as I thought, so I had a bit of spare time even after relaxing and watching some Blackadder.

Since Dru's player is ill (it's that elven -2 Con penalty again) I'm not sure what will be happening tonight. It may be the next part of *Madness in Freeport*, we may work on characters for her interlude game, we may just write up the rest of the "Sanitarium Seige" or watch Evangelion, depending on how it goes.

More update Saturday.

J
...hey, at least I didn't drop them in front of a dragon...
...just before a month-long winter break...
...like I did in college...


----------



## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> More update Saturday.
> 
> J
> ...hey, at least I didn't drop them in front of a dragon...
> ...just before a month-long winter break...
> ...like I did in college... *




Saturday passed, and no update 
Sunday passed and no update 

So I *bump* it


----------



## drnuncheon

Saturday? Saturday? I said 'Monday night', right? 

Heh.  I took a bit of break from gaming and the internet this weekend.  There was no Freeport on Friday - instead we made characters for Dru's upcoming game (which will be quite a different flavor from this story hour!)  Look for a couple of character introductions soon.

D & DF also did a first draft of the "missing episode" which I need to go over and add Paden's commentary into.

Plus, I'm hard at work planning Book II. 
OK, so I didn't really take much of a break at all. Heh.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Thirteen, Part Two: Bloodstains and Bargains*

"Give me a boost, will you?" Di'Fier stepped into the hands of Arinbjorn, who grunted as the Watch-mage put his full weight onto that boot. With that aid, he was able to pull himself to the top of the wall, where he studied the handprint.

_Small hands,_ he thought, holding one of his own above it. _And how did it get all the way up here?_ He looked down to the others, below. "No sign of anything else, just the handprint."

Below, Captain Donnach grunted as he crouched by the corpse, his eyes tracing a track from it to the wall. Di'Fier watched the Captain consider for a moment, and reflected how rare it was that the man actually got out from behind his desk these days. 

"Let's look at the other side of that wall," Donnach decided, and Di'Fier let himself down to follow him.  A few moments later, and they were studying the dusty cobbles.  Donnach pointed. "You can see where the killer jumped down, there, and out to the street...but there'll be no sign of him now, not with as many people have walked there today."

Di'Fier stared at the spot on the cobbles obediently, then nodded as if he saw exactly what the Captain was talking about.  "Whoever it was, they only left one handprint...like they just vaulted over the wall..."







Dru glanced to the water, her keen elven eyes spotting reflected movement. She stepped back, her hand going to the hilt of her rapier as the rat-creature lunged past her, knife whistling through the air to connect with solid wood.  Then the serpentmen were upon them.

Dru's blade batted aside a spear-thrust, and the creature hissed with rage.  Calmly, she reaached her swordblade into its open mouth and punctured its tiny reptilian brain, giving the blade a twist to dump the corpse into the sewer-channel.  Her companion slid easily under the other serpentman's guard, half-climbing it as he fastened his teeth in the back of its neck.  The serpentman arched its neck in pain, and the rat's blade slid across its throat.  A spray of blood, almost black in the half-light, arced out to splash into the water.  The serpentman collapsed to its knees, trying to cover the wound with its hands, but the rat shoved it from the walkway and into the muck. He turned to Dru and grinned a bloody grin.

Moments later, two figures climbed carefully from a sewer grating just outside the Temple of Knowledge. They slipped unseen into the building.






"Where's your partner?"

Di'Fier hesitated. "Oh," he said, as casually as he could. "She's probably at Swagfest." _Definitely not roaming around the streets with a recently freed rat-creature, no sir._

"Mm-hm.  Well, you'd go find her - I want the two of you in Swagfest tomorrow, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious."






Brother Jemis was not having a good night.  Bad enough that he was stuck on desk duty when the rest of the city was at Swagfest, but now a pair of blood-soaked apparitions had appeared in the vestibule - and from the smell of it, they had taken the low road to get there.

"I-is that a _tail_?" he ventured, trying to get a closer look at the smaller one in the dim light.

"It's a long story," said the elven woman testily. Her hand was resting on the empty dagger-sheath at her side, her fingers drumming nervously.  Hadn't Brother Norton said something about an elf? It was her, it _had_ to be her.  The woman's next words confirmed it.

"How _is_ Norton anyway?"

"He...ah...he is quite fine.  He's getting the best care the temple can provide...on the mainland." _And far away from you,_ he thought, _which is probably exactly what he needs.  I know it's what I need..._ He looked at the elf, swallowed, and turned his gaze to her companion.  Surely that wasn't a snout under that hood...

"Dru!" A voice called out. "And...is that a _tail_?" Brother Egil, lantern in hand, had emerged from the depths of the library, and Jemis sighed with relief.  Egil could handle this now. He closed his eyes for just a moment, and when he opened them the elf was leaning across his table.  His eyes went wide with surprise.

"You tell Norton to get better soon," she said, and grinned the sort of grin that he always imagined a wolf grinning, just before it did something very unpleasant to you.

As Egil, the elf, and her cloaked companion moved off, Brother Jemis' right eye began to twitch.






Di'Fier squinted into the morning sun as Captain Lydon held up the struggling wharf rat. He delivered the speech for the opening of the rat race with little enthusiasm, and heaved the creature out into the crowd.  As the racers thundered off in hot pursuit of the rodent, Dru leaned against the wall of a tavern.  "Hard to believe that Egil won that three years ago," she began.  "He says he's going to pray for a spell that will let him understand our friend."

Di'Fier nodded, studying the crowd.  Most of the younger, fitter celebrants were off chasing the rat.  It looked to be headed east, to Scurvytown. _It'll probably feel right at home,_ he thought.

His ponderings were interrupted by Dru. "I've never seen a ship like that before." 

Di'Fier turned to look at it. _Now where did that come from?_  The ship was some sort of strange outrigger craft, long and slender, its front sweeping down to meet the water in a graceful reverse curve that would have signalled the presence of a ram on a warship - but no warship would have been built like that.  Its hull was painted in bright colors: a cerulean blue with gold trim, and its sails were translucent against the sky.

The pair moved to the end of the pier to study the crew - for now there were creatures visible on the deck. More or less humanoid...but definitely not human.  Chestnut hair was pulled into a knot above mustard-yellow skin. Their noses were practically nonexistent - little more than a pair of vertical slits above their lipless mouth.  The things had high cheekbones and pointed ears even longer than an elf's. They were tall - taller than a man - and skeletally gaunt.

A group of the creatures was assembling on the deck.  No sailors these, but some sort of guard in ornate armor. They gathered around the gangway to the lower portion of the ship and waited.

"What the hell are _those_?" Dru asked her partner, but Di'Fier could only shake his head.

Rising now from the midst of the yellow-skinned creatures was a different being entirely.  Like them, it was tall and gaunt, but there the resemblance ended.  The creature's skin was a blue to rival that of its ship, and it towered several feet above the tallest of its escorts. Its spidery fingers grasped what looked to Dru like a small metal egg.

Together, the strange assemblage moved down the gangplank and to the docks. Di'Fier glanced around and realized that the crowd has backed away, and he and Dru were alone.

The creature lifted the egg to its lips and murmured into it, then extended it towards Dru. A whispery voice came from the egg. "_Your swordsman is fine specimen. What is his price?_"

Dru glanced over at Di'Fier. _Hmm..._ she pondered briefly, then shook her head. "I'm sorry, he...is not for sale.  He's a free man."

The blue-skinned creature listened to the thready sounds emanating from the metal egg, and its lips pulled back to reveal tiny, needle-sharp teeth. "_My apologies_," the egg said. "_I hope I did not offend._"

Di'Fier shook his head, bemused. "No, it's all right. But..." he hesitated, then plunged ahead. "Why have you come here?"

The blue creature reached into the folds of its robe and with great solemnity pulled forth a piece of paper.  It was crumpled and travelstained, but the thin fingers smoothed it out as if it were a great proclamation. Dru and Di'Fier craned their necks to look at it.

It was a broadsheet flyer - the same as the hundreds littering the streets of Freeport - and its trading partners on the mainland.  It bore a rendition of Milton's Folly, and invited one and all to visit Freeport for the city's bicentennial celebrations...for the christening of the Lighthouse...for Swagfest.

"_We have come,_" the egg said, "_to trade._"


----------



## Horacio

Who are they?
What are they?
What do they want?



Great update, as usual!


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Who are they?
> What are they?
> What do they want?
> 
> 
> 
> Great update, as usual! *




Longtime players will (hopefully) be able to recognize what they are from my descriptions - one of the beings was on the cover of a rulebook after all.  (If not, I guess I need to work on that more.)

As for what they want...well...it's obvious.  They want to trade. 



J


----------



## Thorntangle

We have come..._To serve man!_

Great update.  Mysterious alien traders coming into port, Swagfest, Ratmen.  This couldn't possibly mean trouble in Freeport. 

Edit: Spelling


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Longtime players will (hopefully) be able to recognize what they are from my descriptions - one of the beings was on the cover of a rulebook after all.  (If not, I guess I need to work on that more.)
> 
> J *




I think they might be Githyanki, although their ships are usually seen plying the Astral plane rather than the waves around the Serpent's Teeth. And without mention of their trademark silver swords, I can't be certain.

The rest of the description seems to fit, however.


----------



## Horacio

Mi first idea was Githyanki too, but I could figure them sailing in a normal sea...


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> I think they might be Githyanki, although their ships are usually seen plying the Astral plane rather than the waves around the Serpent's Teeth.*




Well, I haven't gotten to this part yet, but when asked where they came from, the answer was "across the Sea of Dreams".  Make of that what you will.  One thing's for certain...they ain't from around here.

(Yeah, they are githyanki.  The big blue guy is an Arcane, or I guess Mercane nowadays, from Spelljammer/Manual of the Planes.  Why does a Mercane have githyanki bodyguards? Hmm...he must have made a good deal...)

J


----------



## Boss

*Gonna have to do it...*

I just bought the Freeport city book last night.  Between that book and your story, it is a must that I set up a campaign in Freeport.  I've been trying to decide exactly where iw as going to start one for my friends that have only played 2nd edition before.  I never read the adventures (don't know why, I bought everything else) but man, this city's got it all.  Thanks for bringing it alive, making it easier to see in the dark places a little better.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Thirteen, Part Three: Economics, Linguistics, and History*

Dru flashed a coin at the urchin standing in front of her. The child's eyes lit up at the sight of gold. "Run and fetch Lucius the Librarian from the Temple of Knowledge, and there will be another one for you," she told him, and in an instant he was gone.

The other children surrounding her, on the other hand, had not. She waded through the crowd of them to return to Di'Fier, who was helpfully assisting the blue-skinned trader with the process of obtaining a stall in the Dockside Market. More of the yellowed crewmembers were approaching, bearing crates and boxes which they began to stack behind their master, as his armed guards smiled savagely to keep the crowd back.

As Dru watched, the negoiations were concluded, and the last porter brought what looked like a stone disk to the trader. The trader set it on the table, spoke a word, and held his hand over it, indicating that Di'Fier shoudl do the same.

"It's warm..." Di'Fier reported, puzzled.

The trader turned the item over, spoke another word, and repeated the process.

"...and now it's cold."

The trader smiled, handed the disk to the Watchman, and turned to the crowd. The egg's wispy voice was still somehow audible over the crowd. "_There are many wonders in my cargo...allow me to demonstrate them..._"

Di'Fier barely managed to get out of the way of the crowd.  The trader's guards were having difficulty channeling the crowd as the bizarre merchant began to demonstrate the virtues of a cooking knife that would seemingly cut through anything - except living flesh.

"I guess he was happy I helped him," said Di'Fier, turning the disk over in his hands. "It certainly got people's attention."

Dru nodded. "I sent for Lucius. I know he'd want to see this." She jerked her head towards the stands. "Looks like something's gathering over there as well.  Maybe the rat race is over."

As the pair made their way towards the stage, they saw that indeed it was.  A stubby dwarf was receiving a cask of rare spices from Captain Lydon in exchange for the struggling rodent.

_I wonder how a dwarf managed to catch the rat,_ Di'Fier thought idly. _You wouldn't think he'd be able to keep up..._

His partner was having doubts of her own. _What's that on the rat? It looks like...cobwebs._

Still, the matter was of little import, and the Watchmen quickly shrugged it off in favor of more entertaining pursuits.






"I still don't believe that one of those kids swiped my coin-purse," growled Dru. "And that I didn't even notice!"  It was clear that the latter complaint aggrieved her far more than the former.  Larceny was understandable, but for her to fail to notice it was nigh unforgivable.

"I think we've got other things to worry about," said Di'Fier. "Look."

Dru followed her partner's glance to where she saw a trio of unsavory types moving through the crowd - heading, it seemed, for their azure-skinned friend. "The Buccaneers," she grumbled. "I might have known they'd show up."  She reached down and loosened her blade. "No sense in your generous friend getting the right impression of the city on his first night here."

But before she could move, the toughs had been intercepted. Three men had made their way through the crowd.  Dru could spot the type as soon as they moved: the men had the assured and dangerous quality of trained killers. She tensed, feeling her partner do the same. 

But there was no bloodshed. The men merely smiled at the toughs, speaking a few words and making a gentle gesture.  Di'Fier's eyes narrowed.  He knew an enchantment when he saw one, and the friendly smiles which spread across the faces of the Buccaneers were not usual, not at all.

Still, the situation had been defused, and the six of them walked away from the docks together.

"What do you make of that?" Di'Fier asked.

"I'm not sure.  I've never seen them before...but at least it looked like they were interested in keeping the peace..."






"So, does Thuron know that he's here?" Dru asked, as she lounged in a chair in Egil's new office, idly flipping a knife in her hand.

"I...have not found it wise to tell him, especially given the proclivities of our new friend here," Egil said, with a nod towards the ratman.  His spell of _comprehend languages_ had at least enabled communication one way, and through a mixture of pantomime and repetition, they had managed to convey a few key phrases to the creature.

"Dru...what is _this_ called?" it asked, tapping a claw on Dru's dagger.

"It's a dagger, Varesh."

"So did you find his homeland?" Di'Fier asked hopefully.

Egil shook his head.  "Unfortunately, he's either terrible with maps, or his homeland isn't on any of the ones we have here.  I haven't found any references to his kind in any of the literature I've studied, either."

"Have you ever come across something referring to the 'Sea of Dreams'?" Dru queried.

"Not offhand...why?"

"It's apparently where the blue merchant has come from," Di'Fier supplied. "It sounds familiar, but I can't place it either."

"What is this called?"

"That's a rapier."

Di'Fier looked over at the rat-man. "I managed to use Kenzil's spellbook to memorize a spell of translation this morning..." He spoke a few words, feeling the arcane energies settling into his ears.

The rat-man turned to him and hissed, his hackles raising. <<You cast spells the way the serpents do...>>

"No, no..." said Di'Fier, wishing the spell went both ways. "I study...in a book..." He took a book and mimed reading from it, then casting a spell.

Varesh's eyes narrowed, but he seemed to accept that answer.  <<For the serpents it comes naturally. Who are you, that studies your magic in books?>>

Di'Fier cast about for the best way to explain the concept of the Watch. "I'm...a Watchman," he said, knowing the words were meaningless.  He got up and positioned himself in front of Egil, as if to guard him.

<<You protect the priest?>> At Di'Fier's expansive gesture, Varesh reconsidered. <<...everyone.  You protect everyone.>> He nodded understanding. <<I protect as well.  I hunt serpents.>>

Di'Fier nodded.  "We do too," he said, gesturing to himself and Dru.

<<You...protect by hunting? Hunting serpents?>> Varesh studied the two Watchmen, and his lips pulled back from his teeth in what passed for a grin.

<<Take me,>> he said, <<to your leader.>>






"You've got to admit, he'd make a decent Watchman," Dru said as they left the temple.  "He was able to smell me when I was invisible."

"I'm not sure the Captain would like it much," Di'Fier replied. "And I kind of like our new promotions.  We'll have to wait until things calm down anyway.  Lydon's still upset about losing him."

"Where's the blue trader?" Dru asked.

"Roth and the bigwigs from the Merchant's Guild came by to treat him to a dinner," grumbled one of the crowd.  "They'll probably tie up his entire stock and get an option on future shipments, too."

Two of the armed creatures stood guard over the stall.  One looked Di'Fier up and down, its' gaze falling on the short sword at the Watchman's waist.  The words were no longer translated by Di'Fier's spell, but the intent was clear.

"Must be a dominance thing," muttered Dru as they walked away.

Above the harbor, the night began to light up with greens and reds - a display of imported fireworks sponsored by Lydon. The city echoed with the thunderous booms as Dru and Di'Fier headed back through the streets to the Old City.

"Garto should have my sword ready by now - in plenty of time for the ball," Di'Fier said.

"Maybe we should go back and talk to your friend after you pick it up," Dru suggested, her eyes flashing at the idea of a possible scuffle.

Di'Fier coughed gently. "That...may not be wise.  Fun though it might be."






"And Dru, Di'Fier..." Donnach said as the rest of the Watch began filing out to their morning assignments.  "You're on special duty today."

"What's that, Captain?" Dru asked, pullingher feet off of the chair in front of her and leaning forward.

"You're helping Spruce down in Records.  I don't want the two of you showing up to the Lighthouse Ball covered in blood."






Dru sneezed.  Records, it seemed, hadn't been dusted in the hundred-and-four years since the creation of the Watch.  Even the _dust_ was dusty.

"Oh, Dru," said Spruce, his face barely visible over a stack of papers. "I meant to tell you, I found something out about what you wanted to know...you remember, the rose?"

Dru's head swiveled to look at him.  She'd nearly forgotten.

"It took me a long time to find it, because there was nothing in the recent archives.  But I was sorting some stuff from about forty years ago, and I found a reference to it - during the last big crime war in the city.  Your father was involved."

Dru nodded.

"Well, the guy on the other side was named Morgan Haisa - he ran the Eastern District.  At the end of the war, they found him dead in his room, with a rose next to him.  Without a head."  Spruce set the stack of papers down and rubbed his raw, red nose.  "They never _did_ find the head."


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## drnuncheon

*Special Added Bonus Inside!*

Wow, an almost completely non-combat session.  There was a lot of roleplaying that I couldn't keep up with in my notes, mostly involving the language lessons between Dru, Di'Fier, and Varesh. Between that and the last session, though, Dru and Di'Fier earned enough to tip them over into 7th level - so expect an update to the Rogue's Gallery at some point.

For now, though, you get a *drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour Special Added Bonus*: a complete writeup of a new magic item.  Amuse your friends, bewilder your players, or just give it to your local high-level wizard.

*Stone of Heating/Cooling*: This thin marble disk (about 4 inches in diameter and 1/2 an inch thick) is inscribed with a rune on each side: one in gold, the other in silver.  When the rune from the side sitting face-up is spoken, the disc will heat (if the gold rune is face up) or cool (if the silver) whatever is placed on it by about 40 degrees - although it will stop short of freezing or boiling the substance.  It is intended to warm or chill drinks, hence the common appelation "Drinkstone".  Some alchemists have found it useful in their work as well.
_Caster level:_ 1st; _Prerequisites:_ Craft Wondrous Item, _prestidigitation_; _Market Price:_ 100 gp; _Weight:_ 1 lb.
_DM's Note:_ The "by the book" price for this item should be 900 gp: 1/2 (spell level) x 1 (caster level) x 1800 (command word). On the other hand, this object is by no means the equal of the magic items in that range (_bag of tricks (grey)_, _bracers of armor +1_, etc), so I arbitrarily and summarily reduced the price to something more reasonable.


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## Horacio

*Re: Special Added Bonus Inside!*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Stone of Heating/Cooling *




I want one more powerful for cooking


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## Vurt

dmuncheon, with the last half dozen write-ups, I think you're really hitting your stride.  That was excellent, and I look forward to reading more!

-- Vurt


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## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part One: The Lighthouse Ball*

_DM Note: Well, here we are at last - the culmination of the Freeport Trilogy: *Madness in Freeport*.  Needless to say, enormous amounts of spoilers follow. As we get started I want to thank Chris Pramas, Bill Simioni, and the rest of the Green Ronin folks for the great work they did on the trilogy, and the City of Adventure hardback.  Now, onward towards madness..._

Dru pulled at the high collar of her uniform jacket, trying vainly to loosen it. "I hate these things.  The collar's too high and the jacket binds.  What if we have to kill someone?"

"We did alright at the funeral," her partner answered.  "We'll be fine."  They turned onto the main road leading towards the Sea Lord's palace, their high boots ringing on the cobbles. "And with any luck we won't have to fight, anyway.  We'll just get our medals, rub shoulders with the important people, have some of those fancy snacks, and avoid bloodshed.

Dru gave her partner a pitying look.  "When was the last time anything like that happened to us?"

Di'Fier coughed. "Well, there was the...hmm. How about...no."  His brow wrinkled in thought.  "The Wizard's Guild Dinner was fine."  He paused. "Until we left."

"And if we'd stayed, it would have goen downhill," Dru predicted dourly.  "You probably would have wound up in a magic duel with Eligaard, and I'd have thrown Alust into the punchbowl."  She checked her rapier as they approached the gates, then pulled her invitation from a concealed pocket in her cloak.

The guards gave the invitations a cursory glance, then began methodically wiring the pair's swords to their scabbards. "I guess they know our reputations," Dru sniffed.  "If it comes down to it, we'll just have to use the silverware."






The pair of Watchmen stood, rather uncomfortable and alone, in the foyer of the palace.  Dru studied the nautical mosaic under her feet, as Di'Fier scanned the ornate gilded furnishings and portraits from the city's history.

"There's nobody here," he whispered, but his words still managed to echo in the empty room.

Dru nodded.  "The Sea Lord's going to be mad when he sees that nobody showed up for his party."

At the far end of the hall, the gilded double doors swung open just wide enough to admit a short, portly figure, who adjusted his jacket before striding towards the two.  Dru looked down at the approaching halfling with a smirk.

"Greetings, heroes!" he began. "Milton Drac welcomes you to his home."

"I thought he was taller," muttered Dru.

The halfling forged bravely on. "I am Tomas Fleetfoot, High Chamberlain of the Sea Lord's Palace.  And you are quite early...the first to arrive, in fact.  If you please, I will conduct you to a sitting room where you may rest and await the other guests."

The room he led them to was hardly less impressive than the entry hall.  In fact, the sheer size of the chamber dwarfed the house that Di'Fier had grown up in.  Imported wood paneling lined the walls, a rich carpet lay across the floor, and two velvet couches ocupied the center of the room, with other chairs scattered about the perimeter.  Di'Fier wandered restlessly around the room, pausing by the door as he heard voices.

"...the sides."

"They'll never know the difference. Serve it to them anyways."

Di'Fier frowned as the door opened, admitting a servant in the Sea Lord's livery.  He bore a small silver tray on which rested some kind of small pastries. The servant paused in fromt of Dru, sweeping the tray in front of her.  "Hors d'oeuvre, ma'am?"

"Thanks," said Dru, taking the tray and wandering towards her partner.  She picked up one of the pastries and sniffed it, oblivious to the nonplussed servant.  "Smells like crab, and cheese.  But all the filling's run out of the side. Is it supposed to do that?"






"Lady Elise Grossette, of the Captain's Council," announced the Chamberlain.

The woman who entered - the first of the guests to arrive after the Watchmen - was plain but elegant, with an air of stern respectability about her.  Dru leaned to her partner.  "Lady Elise leads the part of the council that opposes the Sea Lord," she murmured.

Di'Fier had little time to swallow his surprise, as Lady Elise approached them.  "So," she said, looking the two of them up and down.  "You are the guards that everyone is talking about."

Dru raised an eyebrow.  "Not all of it's true?" she offered, hopefully.

Lady Elise smiled.  "If you've given Milton half the headaches I think you have, it's well worth your salaries."

"Cheap headaches," muttered Di'Fier.  Then, a bit louder, "This is actually a bit of a surprise, after the incident with Councillor Verlaine."

"I imagine it is," said Lady Elise dryly.  "And I should very much like to hear what happened from your own points of view."

"Captain Melkior Maeorgan, of the Captain's Council."

Lady Elise rolled her eyes as the dark and muscular Captain entered the room.  The oil lamps glinted off of the ostentatious silver chasing of his breastplate, and winked on the jewels set in the hilt of his longsword. Di'Fier checked it reflexively, and noted that Maeorgan's blade was not bound the way his and his partner's were.  He began to feel more than a bit nervous.

Meorgan's eyes lit upon the tray Dru still held.  "Are those crab morions?" he said, one hand already moving to seize the pastries. Dru handed him the tray with a smile.

"Perhaps sometime later," Lady Elise said to the Watchmen as she moved towards the door, sweeping past the enormous bulk of a newly arrived guest.

"Captain Lydon, of _The Gambit_," called the halfling.

"Dru! Di'Fier!" the Captain bellowed as he crossed the room. "Just who I wanted ter see.  I've had a theft, I have.  Someone made off with me special rat that I'd found for Swagfest, and I wants them brought ter justice."

Dru glanced at her partner. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral.

"Aye, it is.  Nobody got a look at him that did it, but 'e had an accomplice - fellow with a parrot.  'E ha da fine singin' voice, they said, but 'e couldn't dance a step."  The Captain's beefy hands clapped them on the shoulders.  "I know you'll find 'em, though, and send 'em to the hulks."

Di'Fie rmanaged a rather sickly grin, and Lydon turned. "Be those crab morions?" he asked, lumbering after Maeorgan.

"Captain Garth Varellion, of the Captain's Council."

"I suppose people are finally starting to show up," muttered Dru, as Varellion wandered towards Maeorgan and Lydon. "It's about time."

"Honored guests," the chamberlain began, "the Sea Lord asks that you please feel free to make use of any of the rooms on this floor.  When the rest of the guests have arrived, we will assemble in the ballroom for the ceremony." With a bow, the halfling departed.






"Guildmaster Torsten Roth, and family."

Dru watched the head of the Merchant's Guild, his wife and daughter enter the room, along with another girl about Roth's daughter's age.  The young girls clutched each others arms and whispered, but there was something about the way the other girl walked, something out of place with her gown...she walked like she was used to wearing a blade, that was it.

The older man approaching them bore some kind of resemblance to her - her father, perhaps. A wide grin split his face.  "Ah, you must be the guards everybody is talking about."

Dru glanced sidelong at her partner. "Do you think it's the uniforms?"

Captain Marcus Roberts chuckled.

"His Holiness Thuron, High Priest of the Temple of Knowledge."

"Pardon us," said Dru, as she and Di'Fier made their way toward the elderly priest.

"Thuron, it's good to see you," Di'Fier said.

Thuron half-smiled. "Perhaps," he said. "But I worry about the speed with which tonight's performance was contrived.  Be on your guard, Watchmen, and be careful who you trust."

"Lady Marilise Maeorgan."

"Still," Thuron continued, "this may be an opportunity to find out just what the Sea Lord is really up to.  Lady Elise has been conducting some investigations of her own into the matter of the lighthouse.  Perhaps she might be persuaded to share what she has learned...ah, Sister Gwendolyn."

The woman that Thuron greeted was slender, ageless.  Her face was framed with hair of a deep green, and a miniature silver trident hung around her neck - the symbol of the God of the Sea.  She smiled at the Watchmen and Thuron.

"Watch-Lieutenants Dru and Di'Fier," Thuron said, indicating each in turn. "As I was just saying to them, it might be quite profiable to all concerned if they were to share their information regarding...recent events...and vice versa, of course."

"Of course."  The woman's smile was as deep mysterious as the sea.  "I will speak with Lady Elise.  A pleasure."  She nodded to Dru and Di'Fier, and glided off.

"Have you seen the library?" asked Dru. 






The library stretched the length of one of the palace walls - it had been three sitting rooms, but Sea Lord Anton Drac had their walls removed to create this momnument to learning.  Since the beginning of Milton Drac's reign, it had fallen into sad disuse.  Thuron looked rather mournfully at the thin layer of dust coating the shelves.

For her part, Dru fiddled unconsciously with her dagger, vaguely irritated that it, too, was wired to its sheath.

As Di'Fier wandered among the shelves, he became aware that there was another person in the library.  His eyes had flicked over the shape more than once, but now he noticed: a black-clad elf, sitting, calmly reading, in a chair tucked into the corner. "Dru..." he ventured.

His partner looked up, followed his gaze, and stared in open-mouthed shock.

Tensin Naïlo closed the book he was browsing through, and looked up at his daughter with a thin, cold smile.


----------



## Horacio

Wow! Wonderful! Excelent! More! More!

It was your fault, I bought Freeport book, and I love it, I bought Hawk and Fisher books and I loved them, and now I'm beginning a Freport campaign. It's your fault. Thanks!


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## Jon Potter

*Wow!!*

Excellent!

I really like the way you've taken the Freeport trilogy and really made it your own, weaving the threads of the stolen ratman and Dru's dark familial past into the already complicated Sea Lord's ball.

Very well done indeed!


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## drnuncheon

Wow.

OK, not to tease you all or anything...well...OK, to tease you all:

We are on the verge of the final battle.  Dru, Di'Fier, and their brave companions have cut a swath through the forces of the Brotherhood...but not without cost.  Two have died already. Di'Fier's magic is nigh exhausted, and the sinister leader of the cult yet awaits.

The brave companions have everything they need to save the city...but they don't know what to do with it.

Will they survive?

Can they save the city?

Or will all their effort come to naught?

J


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## Horacio

Why are you so ruthless? Why do you tease us?

I NEED to know the ending!
I NEED it!


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## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part Two: New Mysteries and Old*

_*DM's Note*: Sorry Horacio.  I'm mean cos I'm a Rat B@$tard DM at heart.  Yes, it's all over now...we finished up around 3 am.  There will be one more session of tying up loose ends and then drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour will go on hiatus while Dru runs a short game.  I've got nearly twenty pages of notes left to write up from two sessions, so answering the question will have to wait.  In the meantime, though...an update!  Enjoy._


"Daughter."  The faint smile on Tensin Naïlo's face was entirely missing from his voice.  Then again, it always was. 

"Father. What are you doing here?"

Still the smile. "I was invited by my dear friend, Torsten Roth.  He knew that I would not wish to miss the presentation of such a prestigious award to my own daughter." He set the book down on the table beside him, and stood.

Dru watched him with a wary eye. _One blade in the boot. One up each sleeve. One at the nape of the neck..._ Her gaze narrowed. _Where are the others?_ "Yes, I appreciate the little friends you've been sending over to play."

"I'm sure they keep you in practice."  His gaze took in Di'Fier as well.  "Thank you, by the way, for taking care of Kenzil.  He was growing bothersome." His expression changed faintly, and the voice dropped a few degrees colder.  "Soderheim."

Dru glanced back.  Captain Arias Soderheim, of the Council.  She knew the name - she'd heard her father's disgust more than a few times.  A half elf, representing the interest of elves on the Council? Insulting.

"Naïlo.  And is this your famous daughter, and her...partner?"  Soderheim smirked at the elf, bowed deep over Dru's hand. "A pleasure."

Naïlo looked at his daughter. "Congratulations, Dru." Was there a flicker of warmth in his voice? Or was it her imagination?  Whatever it was, it was gone as swiftly as her father was.

The Chamberlain's voice echoed dimly down the corridor.  "High Wizard Tarmon, of the Freeport Wizard's Guild."  Moments later, Tarmon arrived, his apprentice in tow. "Ah, Di'Fier.  Congratulations, my boy.  You've done the Guild proud.  How are your studies coming? Have you mastered the third circle yet?"

Di'Fier coughed.  "I believe I have, sir," he said.

"Splendid, splendid. Ah, Councilman Arnig," Tarmon turned to greet a stocky gnome, who bowed.

"Please, High Wizard, a moment of your time..."

"Certainly."

The woman who had entered with Arnig smiled at Dru and Di'Fier.  Thuron moved forward to make the introductions. "Watch-Lieutenants, this is Petra Fricke, nominee for the Captain's Council.  Petra, Watch-Lieutenants Dru and Di'Fier.  Petra's done a great deal of sculting for the Temple," he added.

Petra turned her smile on him. "I'm glad you liked it," she said.

Dru raised an eyebrow.  "A sculptress? Did you work on the lighthouse?"

The smile vanished from Fricke's face. "No," she said, then sighed.  "For some reason, Sea Lord Drac has not seen fit to use local craftsmen for his wondrous project - nobody from the city has worked on it for the past three years." She shaked her head as if to clear the subject from it, and her good humor returned.  "I understand you two solved a crime rather close to the hearts of the Craftsman's Guild.  The mad alchemist?"

Dru snarled. "He got away," she said bitterly.

"Well, there's been no further problems with him," Petra said. "Which is all we can ask."

"Honored guests," panted the halfling as he entered the room and bobbed in a quick bow.  "The Sea Lord requests your presence in the main ballroom."  And he was gone.

"I hope we'll have a chance to talk later," said Petra, as they filed out the door.







"Thank you all for attending this grand ball, to celebrate the opening of the Lighthouse of Drac - a monument to the greatness of our city," the Sea Lord said, opening his arms expansively. "The light of its beacon will shine forth across the world, proclaming the power and majesty that is Freeport."

A smattering of polite applause died as he held up his hands for silence.  "But tonight...tonight we also honor two heroes of this city.  Heroes that have delivered us from the evils of the late Councillor Verlaine, and the dark Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign.  If not for their vigilance, our city might have fallen under the sway of an indescribable evil."

"Come forward, my friends, and accept the Order of Drac...with our sincerest gratitude."

Dru and Di'Fier stepped forward in unison, marching to the dais and bending their necks to accept the heavy gold medals.  They turned to the crowd, which erupted into applause.

"And now, my friends, let the ball truly begin.  Musicians!"







Dru leaned up against the wall and loosened the high collar of her dress coat. "Gods, I thought we'd never get out of there.  I hope we don't have to fight, my hands all numb from being shaken so many times."

Di'Fier nodded in agreement, but his words were forestalled by the sudden appearance of Sister Gwendolyn.  She smiled briefly at the pair, and said in a hushed voice, "Lady Elise would like to speak with the both of you. Here, in the sitting room."

"Of course."  They let themselves be lead to a large and comfortable room, where both Lady Elise and Councilman Arnig awaited them.

"Please, do sit," Lady Elise said.  "I am told that you have been conducting some investigations into the matter of the lighthouse." She paused a moment. "Have they uncovered anything?"

Di'Fier thought a momentm choosing his words carefully. "We have...suspicions, nothing more."

"I see.  Ah, Captain Gordon. Join us." Lady Elise turned her gaze back to the Watchmen.  "I propose we lay all of our cards on the table, Watch-Lieutenants.  At this point, hiding what we know can only lead to problems.  Xavier?"

Captain Gordon let out his breath.  "I've had one of my privateers in the vicinity of the lighthouse, mooring nearby at night.  The captain reported that a ship without lights landed there and unloaded some cargo.  The man in the crow's nest used a spyglass to watch them, and he swears he saw a passenger with a serpent's tail."

Dru frowned.  Di'Fier didn't look much happier. "That's about what we expected, though," he said.

"One of the priests of my temple was watching the lighthouse from his window," began Sister Gwendolyn. "He saw strange flashes of light.  I was able to speak with some of the workers, and one of them said that they found the bodies of two strange creatures at the base of the lighthouse - with the bodies of bears, and the heads of some kind of bird.  I've never heard of anything like them before."

"From what I understand," said Di'Fier, "Freeport is at some kind of a nexus of ley lines.  I don't know much about them myself - I saw it in a..." he hesitated. "...colleague's research.  But between that and the bricks we found..."

"They have the Yellow Sign in them," Dru explained.  "The symbol of the Brotherhood."

"Then it is even worse than I suspected," said Lady Elise.  She looked pale, but still controlled.  Her eyes bored into Dru and Di'Fier's.  "I must ask you to go, speak with Drac's servants.  You are not yet marked as one of my supporters - listen to them.  Perhaps they will let something slip."






"So, it is almost over."  Arias Soderheim swirled the brandy in his glass as he gave a sidelong glance to Guildmaster Torsten Roth.  "I'll be sorry to see it go."

"You [u[would[/u] be," Roth muttered. "With your exclusive rights to the shipping."

"Tch, tch, Guildmaster." Soderheim took a sip.  "There was more than enough gold for everyone.  Don't think I don't know about the special orders the Sea Lord made through you.  What was he looking for?"

"So there are things you don't know, eh?  Rare for you to admit that, Soderheim.  You'll just have to be curious," Roth said smugly.  "It took me two years to find it..." Here his mood darkened. "And Drac still hasn't made good on his promise."

"The nomination?" Soderheim chuckled.  "Drac has dangled that in front of so many fish over the years its a wonder he has room for them all."

Unnoticed, Dru wandered away from the pair.






"So, Lord Drac..." _Nothing like grabbing the bull by the horns, right Di'Fier?[/u] he asked himself. "Now that the lighthouse is finished, what will be your next big civic project?"

"I...haven't considered it much," the Sea Lord smiled.  "Perhaps...a new headquarters for the Guards."






Tomas Fleetfoot, High Chamberlain for the Sea Lord's Palace, sat heavily down on a bench and mopped his brow.  "There hasn't been this much activity since that man jumped out the window."

"Oh really?"  The voice made Tomas jump to his feet. "No, no, sit down."  Dru emerged from the door she'd been standing in.  "Don't mind me. I may be a guest, but I'm a public servant, too."

"Well...if you don't mind."  Fleetfoot sat down heavily. "They've run me ragged with last minute preparations."

"I imagine so.  This fellow who jumped out the window.  That was the merchant?"

"The Sea Lord's factor in Highgate, yes...Weggit."

Dru put on her best look of concern.  She must have been at least partially successful, as the Chamberlain wasn't turning pale and shaking the way peple often did when she questioned them.  "Why would he jump?  Was there some kind of trouble?"

"No...I don't think so. It was really the most terrifying thing. I was walking down the hall, and he came bursting from his room just in front of me, screaming like there was a devil pursuing him.  He ran down to the end of the hall and leaped through the window." Tomas paused to wipe his brow again - he had broken into a cold sweat at just the memory.  "When I went to check his room..."

"Yes?" Dru prompted, as gently as she could.

"There was a book lying open on the table, and inscribed on one of its pages..." Fleetfoot hesitated.  The officious Chamberlain was completely gone now, and in his place a tiny, frightened halfling.  "...a strange yellow symbol.  It took all my willpower to leave the room and not follow Weggit."_


----------



## drnuncheon

*drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour: The Lost Episode*

Yes, it's finally done!  Find it here, lovingly placed in chronological order.  What did go on in the asylum? Hear it direct from Dru, Di'Fier, and Paden...

Also, Paden's stats have been updated in the Rogue's Gallery.

J


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## Horacio

Wow! Wonderful, as ever!

After the hiatus, will you continue with Dru and Di'Fier adventures?


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## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Wow! Wonderful, as ever!
> 
> After the hiatus, will you continue with Dru and Di'Fier adventures? *




You won't get me to give away anything that easily. 

I will say this much: After the hiatus, I will continue with drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour.

J


----------



## Horacio

GREAT!!!!!! 

And I will add, while the hiatus I will bump this as strongly as I bumped Lady Despina's story!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part Three: A Strange Alliance*

The High Wizard of Freeport sat at a table, the smoke from his pipe curling around his head.  In his hand he held a piece of folded paper loosely, as he stared at the dancers - or more accurately, somewhere past them in the same general direction.  Dimly, he became aware of a presence nearby.

"Ah, Di'Fier...sit down, my boy, sit down.  Quite a change from the Guild Dinners, eh?"

"Yes, sir, it is."

Tarmon glanced down at the paer in his hand, slid it across the table to Di'Fier.  "Here.  Tell me what you make of this."

Di'Fier looked at the sketch.  It was a complex drawing of some kind of crystal, covered with angle calculations and other mathematical formulae.  He began puzzling out some of the equations.  "It looks like it's designed to channel some kind of magical energy," he began.

"A great _deal_ of magical energy," Tarmon confirmed.  He tapped the paper with the mouthpiece of his pipe. "Arnig gave that to me, said that the Sea Lord had it commissioned.  On the mainland, no less."

Di'Fier's mind was already racing...back to the books he had seen in Kenzil's manse.  "Do you think it could be used to affect...ley lines?"

"Ley lines?" The High Wizard's brow furrowed as he pondered the possibility.  "I suppose it might.  You'd need something damned large to channel the energy through to do that.  Not just the crystal.  A building of some sort."

"Like the lighthouse."






"Watchman!" a voice hissed urgently.  

Dru spun from where she'd been watching Fleetfoot dissappear in the direction of the kitchens. "Who is it?"

A figure stepped forward out of a shadowy doorway.  "My name is Brock Wallace."

Dru's eyes narrowed.  "_Captain_ Wallace, of the Captain's Council?"

"The same." Captain Wallace was a large man, and not all of it was muscle. He dressed fashionably, and a black tricorn was set at a rakish angle atop his rather lamentably bald head.  "Please, I must speak with you.  I have information, and I believe that you and your partner are the only ones who can help me."

"All right," Dru said.  Her left hand slid unconsciously to the scabbard at her hip, thumb ready to push the blade towards her sword hand...and then she remembered it was wired closed.  With a mental curse, she followed Wallace into the room.

_Wine bottle - that'll do,_ she said, taking note of her surroundings.  She moved to stand by the improvised weapon of her choice, watching Wallace all the while.  "So, what can the City Watch do for you, Captain?"

Wallace doffed his hat, rubbing his bald scalp with his other hand. "Watch-Lieutenant, I...I know that you have spent some time investigating the strange goings-on in the city.  And of course there was the matter about Councillor Verlaine." He stepped closer, looking from side to side. "We both know that he was not truly the head of the cult."

Dru nodded carefully.

Wallace took a deep breath.  "I have discovered Drac's plan for the lighthouse...and the city."  He paused to let that sink in a moment, then continued.  "Drac plans to use the lighthouse as a magical beacon, a focal point for summoning an army of monsters.  He thinks that he can use them to attack the mainland, and bring back the glory days of Freeport."  He swallowed nervously.  "He's a madman. I don't think he can control what he summons, but he plans to do it anyway."

Dru studied Wallace carefully. "You've supported Drac, though.  Why this change?"

"I wasn't always on his side.  In fact, I never was.  But when I discovered his plans, he...I have a family," Wallace said.  "He threatened to kill my wife and daughter if I told anyone - and nobody would have believed me anyway.  Until you came along."

"So what is it you want from us?"

"I want you to kill the Sea Lord."






"...he said he'd lure the Sea Lord into one of the sitting rooms, and we could kill him. Then he'd help us hide out until the furor died down, and get the Council to pardon us after all the evidence came out."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him we'd think about it," Dru said. "It would certainly solve our problems...but...it frightens me that I can't tell whose side Wallace is on."

Di'Fier sighed.  "Everything he said seems to fit, though.  The bricks and crystal would channel the energy of the ley lines...Arnig tells me that Maeorgan brough back a shipload of ritual candles - candles that are used in summonings.  And we _know_ Drac is up to something."

"So let's go kill him."  Dru started towards the sitting room.

"No, no, wait!  We don't know if we can trust Wallace."

"Who cares? We kill Drac, he turns into a snake, it's all over."

"I just have a feeling it would be a bad idea."

"Well...all right," Dru grudningly relented. "I wont kill him."  She brightened. "Unless he forces my hand."  Glancing across the room, she spotted Wallace, giving him a discreet headshake, then turning away from his pleading look.

The crowd began to murmur and part for someone.  Dru and Di'Fier turned to see the new arrival.

A man, impossibly ancient, bent and withered, hobbled slowly across the ballroom floor.  His ragged brown robe was tied by a belt of dirty rope, and his beard and long hair were unkempt and tangled. How he got in past the guards was a mystery.

The crowd moved back from him in an ever expanding circle as he reached the center of the floor, and then raised his stick-thin arms. "Heed me well," he rasped. "The words of an old man should not be ignored. In the ancient scriptures of Yig, it is written..."

Dru looked at Drac.  His face was flushed as he gestured for his guards to take the old man.  But the guards seemed strangely hesitant, as the old man began to chant:

_The Yellowed Sign once again shall appear,
Then the time for Yig's revenge will be near.
As the finger of evil rises towards heaven,
One must pay heed to the call of his brethren.
Search below waves for that which was unmade,
And return with the serpend carved of jade.
With the madness unleashed upon the land,
The icon of jade alone shall stand.
The end of the creature from outside,
Contained in the serpent from deep inside._

"Remember these verses well, citizens of Freeport. The prophecies of Yig do not lie."  As his words finished, the man seemed to shrink. His robe collapsed to the floor, and a snake darted from its folds across the marble.  One guard, of sterner stuff than the rest, stepped forward to impale it with his spear.  There was a puff of smoke, and the serpent was gone.


----------



## Zarthon

Greetings all,

I stumbled across this story late last night, and let me tell you something, I had a REALLY late night after that.

drnuncheon I think you have done a great job keep it up. I really 
am looking forward to the next update.

I am now officially a Dru & Di'Fier groupie


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part Four: Black Dog's Cave*

"...and so Thuron thinks that we need to find an artifact called the Jade Serpent of Yig," Di'Fier explained.  "He thinks that's what the prophecy was referring to.  Some kind of holy statue."

Garto nodded. "Makes sense so far. And yer want someone who can read Valossan."

"Exactly," said Dru.  "We figured you and Gothos would be interested."

"Well, I'm yer dwarf...but Gothos is a little, ah, _busy_."  Garto waggled his shaggy eyebrows, leaving little doubt as to his meaning.  "He's been shacked up with that half-elf that works for yer father."

"My father doesn't have any half-elves working for him," Dru said. "He hates them."

"Yeah? Well, I guess nobody told her that, eh?" Garto laughed. "She's got Gothos whupped, so he won't be comin'.  Now, how do yer plan to find this sunken temple place?"

Di'Fier laid the tattered remnants of a logbook on the table.  "Thuron had found this in his research.  It's the logbook of Black Dog, the pirate.  If you look here," he flipped towards the end, "there's a description of a mysterious door with serpent carvings on it.  Thuron thought the descriptions sounded like Valossan architecture."

Garto studied the entry for a time. "Aye, that it does."

Dru threw up her hands in disgust. "But all of that is no good, because we don't know how to find the _caves_!"

Garto laughed.  "Don't you worry 'bout that."






The two Watchmen followed the stumpy form of the dwarven mage as he led them through the narrow streets of the Old City.  "Ol' Gareth makes a livin' sellin' the location of Black Dog's cave," he explained. "Me an' Gothos never went, on account of nobody that's tried has ever come back.  But since we ain't goin' after the treasure, maybe there's a better chance."

Gareth proved to be the picture of a grizzled old ex-pirate, complete with peg-leg and a wicked scar across the empty socket of his left eye. The remaining eye fixed on them balefully through a hazy film as they mounted the steps.

"I know whats ye want," he said without preamble.  "It's the treasure of Black Dog, it is."

"Same every time," muttered the dwarf.

"I remember me days with him well.  We frighted every merchantman and schooner from here t'Highgate! Those were the days..."  The old sailor took a pull from the bottle at his elbow.  "O'course, me accident set me back a bit.  Fell through the riggin', damn near broke me back, I did.  Now I'm old, and I ain't got much money."

Garto tapped his foot impatiently. "And now the pitch..."

"I could tells ye where the caves are, but what good would that do me? I'm just a poor, half-crippled old salt without much money.  If ye could spare some coin for a crippled old man, I'd not steer ye wrong."

"How much?" sighed Dru.

"Two hunnert an' fifty," the sailor promptly replied.

Dru and Di'Fier looked at each other. "I'll get it," she said simply, counting out thick pieces of platinum. She dumped it in a pile on the table next to the sailor, whose eye widened.  "And I'll match it if you promise not to tell anyone _else_ where the caves are for a week."  More coins joined the first.

The salt's eye locked on the coins.  "Up the coast, ye'll find two standin' stones stickin' out of the water, the height of a mast or more," he said softly.  "The trick's in the tide - ye'll have t'wait for low tide t'get in.  After that,  I can't help ye."

"Thanks."

The trio disappeared down the steps, and the crippled old man stared at the pile of platinum.  After a moment, his thoughts turned from the uses of so much money to the problem of keeping it...






"I don't believe that _none_ of us checked the tides," Di'Fier grumbled as he pulled the boat up onto the beach.  "We would get out here as it was heading towards high tide."

Garto heaved himself out of the boat onto dry land. "Aye, well, there's not much for it but t'wait," he said, finding a comfortable rock to lean up against.  "This'll be the last of the good weather, so let's enjoy it."

"Dru.  What is this called?"

"That's an oyster, Varesh."

The ratman pried the mollusc open, pulling the tender meat free of the shell.

"Damn strange friend yer got there," said the dwarf.  "Where'd yer find him?"

"Captain Lydon had him locked in a cage. They were going to use him for the rat chase at Swagfest.  Have you ever head of anything like him before?"

"Hrrrrm." The dwarf scratched at his beard.  "He don't look like a were-rat, an' that's about all I kin think of.  Where'd Lydon find him?"

Dru shrugged.  "All I heard is that he was from far to the west, across the ocean."






"It's low tide," reported Di'Fier.  The other three gathered their things and piled back into the boat.  The sinking sun was largely blocked by the mass of the island as they rowed to the cave.

"T'the right a bit...good...keep it up," Garto called to Dru, who had taken the oars.  None of the four had experience with a boat, but she seemed to have taken to it the most naturally.  The boat shot forward into the blackness of the cave. "Er...slow down a bit..."

"I'm not rowing!" shouted Dru. "There's a current!" 

"Aye, well, it's...hang on!"  There was a terrible crash as the boat slammed into the wall of the cave, tipping dangerously onto its side.  With a startled yelp, the barely-visible shape of Di'Fier toppled over the side of the boat.

"Di'Fier!" Dru abandoned the oars and reached for her partner...and followed him into the water.  The current sucked at her boots, and water closed over her mouth as she was dragged onward.


----------



## Horacio

Wow! 
You're the master of cliffhangers, my friend!

More, please...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part Five: The Water Guardian*

_Horacio: Well, since you asked...now don't get too spoiled by this, folks - I'm a contract programmer by trade and in between assignments right now, so I've got plenty of free time.  That will change when I get my next gig, I'm sure._

Dru fought and kicked her way to the surface, feeling her head break through into the airy darkness. She could hear a thrashing off to her right that could only be Di'Fier, and two strong kicks sent her towards him.  Her gands grabbed him just as he sank below the water, and she hauled his face above the surface.

"SCROLL!" she bellowed over his choking coughs. "Read the damned scroll!"  She fought to keep her partner's head above the water as he fumbled for the watertight case.  He spat a word, and the case glimmered with light as he pulled the waxed parchment from it and began to read.

The magic settled over the pair of them, and Dru relaxed.  _At least I don't have to worry about drowning anymore...for a few hours, anyway._  She lowered Di'Fier back into the water and floated there for a moment, taking stock of her surroundings by the light of the scroll-tube: a huge cavern, mostly filled with water.  She could see tunnels leading off into the rock, and a sandy beach to one side, at the limits of her vision.  From the tunnel they'd come down she could hear the faint dwarven cursing of Garto.

"Di'Fier!" she called. "This way!"

As she began to swim towards the beach, the water next to Di'Fier exploded upwards.






"Damn it, we're hung up on a rock!" Garto shouted.  "What the hell is going on down there?" He listened for a reply but heard only the sound of tremendous splashes in the water - splashes far too loud to be just Dru and Di'Fier.  "Come on, rat-man, make yerself useful.  Push us offa this rock."  Garto sat down on the bench and stripped the oilcloth cover from one of the bundles he'd been carrying.  He placed his foot into the stirrup and heaved with all his might, bending the great steel bow just enough to hook the string over the latch.  "Hang on, we're comin'!" he shouted, as Varesh managed to work the boat free.

The tiny boat swirled and swayed in the current as Garto fumbled with his bolt.  Just as he set it in the nock, they burst into the cavern.

The watchmen desperately dived and swam as they fought their opponent - a bizarre shelled creature that resembled the unholy offspring of a turtle and a crab.  Di'Fier was surrounded by a cloud of blood in the water, but still the young watchman fought on, as Dru swam desperately for the shore.

The boat came careening into the center of the cavern, and Varesh leaped - but the creature chose that moment to spin, throwing the ratman from its shell into the water.

Garto held the crossbow loosely. "Di'Fier! Close yer eyes!" he cried, his thick fingers aready reaching for the multicolored grains of sand inside his pouch.  As he called out the arcane words, a wave of scintillating colors washed over the creature, and it paused, slowly blinking the eyes to either side of its bizarre vertical mouth.

Di'Fier lost no time.  Diving beneath the water, he abandoned the dagger he'd been using, and drew his long blade, thrusting into one of the openings of the shell.  He was rewarded with a dark cloud of blood staining the water.  Above him, Varesh's claws scrabbled uselessly on the thing's shell.  A crossbow bolt smacked into the water and shot past him as he stabbed again - and then the weight of his gear was too much, and Di'Fier began to sink to the bottom of the lake.






Dru hauled herself onto the beach and paused.  _What's that sword doing here?_ she thought.  Thrust into the sand was the gleaming blade of a saber.  _I don't trust that,_ she decided, and turned to see the combat.  Her rapier had been unable to pierce the thing's shell - hopefully Di'Fier was having better luck.

But the mage was nowhere to be seen.  Garto struggled with his crossbow, and the monster had turned its attentions to Varesh, whose fur was now matted with blood as well as water. "Varesh!" she cried.  "Over _here_!"

Again the thing reached out to bite the rat-man, its teeth ripping terrible gouges into his thigh. Garto lifted the enormous crossbow and took careful aim. "Jus' hold 'er there, Varesh," he muttered, and the bolt leapt forth to sink into the thing's unprotected neck.

"Aw, _crap_," said Garto simply.  The thing threw itself almost completely out of the water as it turned to face him with death in its eyes.  He dropped the crossbow to the floor of the boat and grabbed for the oars.

Dru launched herself back into the water.  Varesh had begun to flounder, and now struggled feebly to keep his head above the surface.  She wrapped an arm around his chest and kicked back towards the shore.  As she heaved him onto the sand, she yanked the healing wand from her belt and tossed it to him. "Here, use that."  Her ears rang with the sound of dwarven cursing, and she turned to see Garto beating the creature about the head with one of the oars.

"Row, Garto, row!" she cried.  There was a terrible splintering sound as the thing surfaced directly under the boat.  "Swim, Garto, swim!"  But it was not to be.  Dwarves are poor swimmers under the best of circumstances, and current circumstances were far from the best. The heavyset mage sank like a stone, and Dru dived back into the water after him, struggling along the bottom to finally grasp his hand and heave him to the surface.  The panicked dwarf pounded her about the head and shoulders as she struggled towards the shore.

Finally, Dru managed to heave the semiconscious Garto out of the water and onto the beach.  He repaid her for saving his life by vomiting seawater all over her boots - but Dru was busy searching for any sign of her partner.

The bloody water became still and silent, with no sign of the monster...or Di'Fier.


----------



## drnuncheon

For the benefit of readers who are having trouble accessing these forums, I've begun posting to the ENworld backup forums as well.  The thread is here: 

http://pub82.ezboard.com/fenworldfrm7.showMessage?topicID=7.topic

...which won't do you much good if these forums are down, but I can fool myself into thinking someone might bookmark me. 

Looking back, I see that I haven't tormented Horacio enough, so: *Madness in Freeport* came to a spectacularly bloody finale on Saturday, with no less than three brave souls paying the final price in their quest to save the city.  And as for the results of that battle...well...you'll have to wait.

J
...it's interesting to note that there are no priests in Freeport capable of raising the dead...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part Six: The Ghost of Old Black Dog*

For long moments the trio waited by the edge, but the surface of the water was undisturbed.

"He _can't_ have drowned..." Dru muttered. "He had the spell on."

Garto shook his head slowly. "Looks like he ain't-"  Any further words were drowned out by the titanic surge of water that blasted forth - water stained with red, carrying unidentified gobbets of meat with it.

"...the hell was _that_?" shouted the dwarf. The water rained back down from the cavern's roof, and then all became still once more.

Suddenly, a ripple appeared on the surface...and then an object broke through. Staggering, bloodied, barely alive, Di'Fier stumbled onto the beach, dropping a heavy object into the sand.  He let the water pour from his mouth before giving Garto a weak grin.  "Found your crossbow."






"Aye, that saber's magical all right," the dwarven mage confirmed.  "There's somethin' else about it, though.  Somethin' I don't like."

"Then maybe we should leave it here," said Dru, looking back to where Varesh was dutifully plying the magic of the healing wand on her partner. "I don't think we need any more fights than we absolutely have to have..." She shuddered to think how close they'd come to death. "I can see why nobody ever came back from this place."

"Well, we ain't findin' this door of yers just sittin' here lookin' at it.  Let's go."

Dru looked at the boat.  It was watertight - barely - and it creaked dangerously.  "I think Di'Fier and I will swim and hold onto the boat, since we've got the spell of water breathing on us.  You two stay inside."

The dwarf nodded, turned towards Di'Fier.  "Hell of a spell you cast there.  I've got one similar, but it ain't quite so powerful."

Di'Fier nodded, the healing having raised his spirits considerably. "I'm almost sorry I had to use it so soon, though.  It's not really meant for a single enemy - more for groups, or spirits."

"Hah.  Yer wouldn't've survived without usin' it, right? Then it were well cast.  I've seen more'n one wizard die with spells in his head, because they was _savin'_ 'em.  Don't do yer much good that way, an' it gets yer friends killed as well."  The dwarf hopped into the boat. "Now, let's get this show on the road."






Dru and Di'Fier heaved the boat onto the shore and looked at what awaited them up the beach.  Three poles, seven feet long and wickedly sharp, thrust up out of the sand to impale the skeletal remains of those who'd found the caves in the past.

"Right," said Dru.  "Looks like fun."  Her eyes narrowed as she peered into the dimly lit cavern.  "I can't be sure, but I think there's a hidden door that way...so these are probably traps, and not just a warning.  I'll go first."  With that she set confidently out across the sand, her eyes searching for any sign of impaling stakes.

There was a _thwock_ and a shower of sand, and Dru stared at the sharpened stake that thrust up where she had been only a moment before.  "Found one," she muttered.

Again she crept forward. _All right...I know what to look for, now...just a little depression in the sand..._

_thwock!_

Garto watched Dru limp back to the rest of them.  "I knew a dwarf used to find traps that way," he nodded, as Varesh moved forward with the wand.  "Looks painful," he observed, seemingly oblivious to the bloodchilling look Dru was favoring him with.  She turned and headed once again towards the cavern.  Her persistance was rewarded: no more of the stake traps remained in her path, and she reached the corner of the cave without further injury. Moreover, her instinct was right - there was indeed a secret door.

Moments later, her companions were beside her as she slid the portal open and they looked down a short hall to another door, this one of iron-bound wood.  Dru peered at it.  "Enter here and face the wrath of Black Dog."  She pushed on it.  "Locked."

"Right, my turn then," said Garto, rolling up his sleeves.  His stubby fingers bent in an arcane pattern, he shouted a single word that sent the door bursting from its frame to fall flat on the floor behind it. "Now, let's see what kind of treasure this Black Dog has to...ah...ah..." He froze in mid-stride.

"*Who dares disturb the treasure of Black Dog?*" The voice seemed to come from the very walls of the chamber, but as the foursome watched, a shimmering green apparition rose from the stone floor, cutlass in hand.  "*Ye cannot hope t'stand before me!  Leave now, and no harm will come to ye...or stay, and be doomed to everlasting damnation!*"

"Close the door, Garto," Di'Fier said urgently.

"Can't," the dwarf muttered. "Knocked it off the hinges." He began to back away as the apparition moved forward.


----------



## Vurt

*Re: Session Fourteen, Part Six: The Ghost of Old Black Dog*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Garto watched Dru limp back to the rest of them.  "I knew a dwarf used to find traps that way"...*




Garto wouldn't be referring to Wulf Ratbane two threads over now, would he?  *GRIN*

Great post, dmuncheon!  I'm really looking forward to reading how this all turns out.


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## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Looking back, I see that I haven't tormented Horacio enough, so: Madness in Freeport came to a spectacularly bloody finale on Saturday, with no less than three brave souls paying the final price in their quest to save the city.  And as for the results of that battle...well...you'll have to wait.
> 
> J
> ...it's interesting to note that there are no priests in Freeport capable of raising the dead... *




You're a really bad man! Torturing me day after day, teasing and cliffhanging your story! Bad! Bad!

And now I will have to wait  Because from tomorrow until Monday I will be out of town, on holydays, without computer and internet. And your teasing will spoil my holydays, I will be on the beach, thinking about Freeport instead of enjoying myself  

Until Monday, people!


----------



## drnuncheon

Vurt: Well, they do seem to share similar speech patterns...nah, probably just coincidence.    Garto hangs around with perfumed foppy elves who call themselves 'Gothos Ebonrazor'.

Horacio: Look at it this way...at the rate I'm going, I'll have finished *Madness* by Monday, so you'll be able to get through all the cliffhangers at once!  Have fun on your vacation!

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part Seven: The Serpent Portal*

"I think we need a better plan," said Dru as the shimmering ghostly cutlass swept up into the air.

"Got one," Garto assured her.

"Well, what is it?"

"_Run!_" And with that, Garto was out the door as fast as his stumpy dwarven legs could carry him.  Dru and Di'Fier gaped a moment, then followed, with Varesh trailing behind.

Out on the beach, they heaved the secret door closed.  "Do you think that will stop him?" asked Di'Fier.

"...no.  But maybe he won't bother us now if'n he see's we're not goin' after his treasure."

Dru scowled. "I didn't see a serpent portal in there.  Where did the logbook say it was again?"

"It didn't," Di'Fier said sheepishly.  "It just said that Black Dog had the passage boarded up so nobody could go down there."

Garto sat down in the sand.  "Great.  All that treasure an' no way to get to it.  We need a priest.  An' the only one who knows where the serpent door is, is back in there sayin' 'boo'."

Di'Fier thought about that a moment. "Maybe we could ask him.  I mean, as long as we tell him we're not here for the treasure..."

"_If_ he believes us..." muttered his partner.

Di'Fier shrugged. "We've got to at least _try_..."






The boards gave way with a wet, spintering crack.  Di'Fier tucked his mace back into his belt and took hold of the plank, tearing it away.  Garto and Dru helped to widen the hole.  "I see a beach up ahead," reported the dwarf. "Just like the ghost said."

In short order they had cleared a space for the boat, and guided it down the passage to a sandy beach.  Dru waded out of the water, lifting her glowing dagger high to cast light over the place.

"Will you _look_ at that wall..." muttered Garto.  "That's pure jade, or I'm a peck.  An' the mural's Valossan, too."

"What was your first clue?" asked Dru. "All the serpent people?" She knelt down by the carving of an enormous cobra that emerged from the door. "There's a knob inside, and an inscription below.  What did Black Dog say about the door, Di'Fier?"

"He said one of his crewmen tried it - stuck his hand in the mouth, tried to open the door.  He started screaming, and pulled his hand out, and the door spat some kind of poison onto him." The mage made a few passes with his hands and studied the door intently.  "Yep, there's definitely poison.  I can't quite figure out what kind, though."

"'All those who would enter the temple must pass the test of fangs'," Garto read. "'Reach into the mouth of Yig and your courage will be rewarded.'  Hm.  Draw straws, then?  Got some here...there ya go. Just pick one. Whoever gets the shortest...aw, _sh*t_."  

He  began rolling up his sleeve. "Awright, stand back an' watch how a _dwarf_ does it."  So saying, he thrust his arm into the mouth of the serpent, grabbed the knob firmly...and screamed.

A gout of black bile shot forth from the carved head, steaming where it hit the water.  Garto was cradling the arm he'd yanked from the serpent's mouth a split-second before. "Damn thing _bit_ me..." he said, but his flesh showed no wounds.

"It couldn't have bitten you, Garto," Dru said. "We all watched it, it didn't move." She stuck her own hand in, and her expression changed.  Again the gout of black fluid. Dru pulled her hand from the mouth, but not quickly enough, and her movement send drops spraying across the cavern.  She dropped to the sand and scraped the noxious stuff off of her arm. "_Damn,_ he's right."

Di'Fier studied the mouth.  "It must be some kind of illusion," he reported.  "There's no way for the mouth to move."

"Yeah, well, if yer so damned sure then _you_ try it.  How's that hand, Dru?"

"Burns a little, but I think I got it off in time."






The line in the sand where the venom hit was constantly hissing and steaming now, as the caustic stuff reacted with the dampness beneath.  All had tried and failed, and now they looked helplessly at the carving.

"Can't believe we're gettin' stymied by a damn _door_," muttered Garto, rubbing his arm where the venom had struck him on his second try.  "I know it can't move, but it sure as hell _feels_ like it's bitin' yer."

Di'Fier sighed.  "OK. There's no way the statue can move. It's an illusion.  We _know_ it's an illusion.  Therefore, I should be able to reach in there and open the door. Like this."

_click_

Di'Fier let go and gaped, as the door swung open.


----------



## Boss

*The temp boards*

Dr N,

Just wanted to let you know I have been reading your story on the temp boards, and it is VERY MUCH APPRECIATED that you have been posting there as well.  This is the first time since last friday that I have been able to get on the standard boards, so your posts kept me up to date.

Course, I can't post on the temp boards because for some damn fool reason, exboards won't take my id.  Bleh!

Just wanted to thank you for keeping me updated, if not anyone else.


----------



## Zarthon

Whats behind the door! Whats behind the door!

This is great drnuncheon, keep it comming.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part Eight: The Temple of Yig*

_Phew...this has been a long one...one more to go, I think!_

Foul, stale air seeped out from the long-sealed temple.  Varesh wrinkled his nose and crouched, the wickedly curved knife Dru had bought for him appearing in one clawed hand. "Serpents," he muttered. "Death."

"There's nothing moving," said Dru.  "Garto?"

"Not a damn thing. Let's go."

Cautiously, the foursome crept into the chamber beyond the door.  It formed a rough circle, and in the center was a marble statue: an enormous serpent.

"Looks like the right place," Di'Fier joked, but his words seemed flat in the dusty air.

Dru raised her glowing dagger higher, sending the blue light farther into the room.  The walls were covered, as the outside wall had been, with a mural depicting the legend of Yig.  But unlike the outside, these murals had been defaced: Valossan words scrawled in red ink, repeated all around the room.

"'Beware, brethren'," Garto translated, "'for Yig will abandon us.'"  Looking around at the room, he snorted.  "Looks like whoever wrote that was right." He kicked at the dust on the floor.

"I think I've found the way down."  Di'Fier stood at the top of a ramp which plunged into dark, unknown waters. "Looks like we get wet." He pulled out a second sealed scroll tube and broke the seal, withdrawing a sheet of waxed paper. "Varesh, Garto, time to learn how to breathe like a fish."

The words of the spell rang out and died away, and the magic settled into the lungs of dwarf and rat-man. One by one, the companions filed down the ramp into the dank, still water.







Dru let the water close over her head.  She hated the first breath underwater, the feeling of the water flooding into her nose and lungs, the instinctive panic of drowning.  She hadn't had time to _think_ about it the last time...

She shook her head, and a glint of light caught her eye.  She strained to see through the murky water. Was that gold? The others were already at another ramp, heading deeper.  She took a step forward, then stopped.  There was something else. A dark tenebrous shape, moving in the water. Two quick strokes brought her to Di'Fier's side, and the group started down the next ramp.

Her foot broke through the bottom of the water and hit solid ground.  _What the...?_  But it had happened.  As she took another step, her other foot did the same...then her knees, her legs...ducking down, her face broke the surface as well.  A reverse surface.  The water hung suspended above the ramp, with no means of support.  She bent and let the water pour from her lungs in a steady stream, thoroughly wetting a dusty pillow.

She straightened, and the others did the same, to look at their new surroundings.  Like the rooms above, this one was a circle, but it was lined with craved serpent heads holding ephemeral balls of light between their fangs.  To one end of the room was a marble altar...and in front of it was a shadowy shape, bowing and gesturing towards a jade bowl.

Hands went to weapons, and the creature turned - but it did not attack.  Dru could see Varesh's hackles raise, and knew how he felt - not only was the creature a serpentman, but it bore a disturbing resemblance to the shadow-creatures she and Di'Fier had fought in the asylum. _And this time, there's no Paden to cast them back,_ she thought.

The shadow serpent regardedthem for a moment, one hand outstretched - then it pulled back, as if remembering what its touch could do.  "At lasst...at lasst, living ssoulss are come to help uss..."

Varesh crouched, kukri gripped tightly, and hissed.

"Alisstar iss my name," the serpent began.  "The high priesst I wass of thiss temple.  Ssince the day of desstruction, by brethrenhave wandered thesse hallss...doomed to exisst for all time, to live withour failure..."

"We seek the Jade Serpent," Di'Fier said, stepping forward. "Our city is in great danger from the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign, and a prophecy said that only the Jade Serpent could save it."

"Yess, yess...the propheciess of Yig..." The shadowy head bobbed and weaved.  "If you help uss, if you break our cursse, then I will give you what you sseek."

"What _sort_ of help?" Dru asked suspiciously.  She was glad that Varesh didn't understand enough Common to follow the conversation.  She suspected he would be all in favor of leaving the Valossans to rot.

"Four relicss I need...a ritual...to atone to Yig of our crimess.  Four relicss of the Serpent...Sscaless, Venom, Fangss, and Amulet."

"And if we find them, you will give us the Jade Serpent of Yig?" Di'Fier pressed.

"Yess...the Sserpent will be yourss to ssave your city."






"I saw something in the water, up on the second floor," said Dru as they walked down the ramp.  "That might have been one of these relics."

"All right. We'll look for it after we search the rest of the temple," her partner replied.  "For now, we go down."  They reached the bottom of the ramp, which opened onto a curved hallway.  A door was set into the left side of the hall.  "All right, who gets to open it?"

Dru reached over and shoved the door open. Dusty, half-rotted pillows were strewn about the room...but there was something more.  Four shadow-shapes rose from the pillows...and unlike Alisstar, they did not look friendly.

"_Sh-t!_" bellowed Garto as the things flew towards them, taking no notice of furniture...or walls. Blades flashed, but the incorporeal touch of the shadow-creatures could not be parried - as Dru discovered when her arm chilled and her grip faltered.

Di'Fier was already chanting, calling on mystic forces to protect him, when Garto fumbled a scroll from his bag.  A quick calculation as he unrolled it, and a pained expression crossed his face. "Sorry, Dru!" he bellowed, and then his gutteral words coalesced into a gleaming red jewel that shot past her to impact against the far wall...and explode into fire.

Dru picked herself up off the ground, clutching her rapier tightly.  Her hands, her face, every exposed bit of skin felt tight and painful, and there was a distinct smell of charred hair. _I'm going to kill him,_ she thought, diving past one of the shadow-shapes and slicing it deeply _en passant_.  She whirled to see Di'Fier's own blade put an end to it, then looked for more.

They were all gone, presumably victims of the same fireball that had toasted her.  _Ok, maybe it did some good,[/u] she decided. Still hurts like a b-tch.  She glared down at the dwarf. "Never again."

He shrugged, with a grin. "Hey...yer lived through it."

"It wasn't a request."






"Go."

The door crashed open.  Di'Fier's voice rang out and a sizzling green arrow arched through the air to slam into the ghostly shape before them. An instant later, Varesh's claw tore through the ethereal fabric of the creature, causing it to howl in pain. 

How the hell did he do that? Di'Fier wondered, as the dun ray of Garto's disrupt undead passed over the wraith's shoulder. The dwarf swore, and Di'Fier lifted his sword.  Arcane strength filled his muscles, and he stepped forward.  His sword crashed down as its claw passed through his flesh and tore into his lifeforce.

The tearing pain made him stumble, and he looked up to see Varesh tearing at the thing as Dru hurled a vial towards it.  The liquid tore great, smoking holes in the thing's body, and it shredded like old cloth.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," Di'Fier said as he straightened up.

Dru frowned down at the smoking remnants.  "What I don't understand is why the undead like to compartmentalize themselves.  This thing was different from the other ones we fought, and it's in a different place.  That ogre in the asylum was trying to separate the skeletons from the zombies, too.  Is it just some kind of instinct?"

Di'Fier looked at Garto, who shrugged helplessly.






"Go."

The room was curved, following the outside edge of the temple.  A mosaic covered the walls: a serpent, coiling around the room, its head at the far end.  Di'Fier stepped into the room, his eyes looking at the serpent, following its length...and then locking with the serpent's own.

The soft green glow seemed to expand to fill his vision. There are intruders, it seemed to say to him. You must slay them before they defile the temple. He could feel his sword-arm raising...

"Don't look at the eyes!" he cried, throwing his other arm in front of his face. "They're casting some kind of spell!" As he blocked his vision, the green glow faded from his mind, leaving him in control once more. Shaking his head, he cautiously opened his eyes once more.  So far, so good.

Careful to avoid looking at the mosaic's eyes, the others entered, fanningout to search the room. "Nothing," Dru complained.  "We've been through nearly this entire floor and we haven't found a single relic."

"Hrm. The Way of Yig," Garto said, his hand tracing over the book. "Could be interesting." The tome vanished into his sack.  "Anything else? No? Let's go."






"OK...go!"

The door flew open, revealing some kind of training gymnasium.  Across the room, glinting in the dim light, was a scaled suit of armor, fitted to a Valossan.  A spear rested in its hand.

"Hot damn," Garto said. "The Scales of the Serpent."  He took a step into the room, and the armor turned. "ohsh-t."

Darkness flickered in the eyesockets of the armor's helm as the armor took up a fighting stance.  Lightning crackled around the spear as it raised its other hand and impudently gestured them forward.  "Come, young ones.  Come for your lesson," it mocked. "You must be strong to fight for Yig."_


----------



## Thorntangle

Great update as always, Doc!  Looks like they're in a real grinder right now.  Slowly whittling away...


----------



## Zarthon

Keep at it Doc.

Waiting in anticipation.


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Great update as always, Doc!  Looks like they're in a real grinder right now.  Slowly whittling away... *




Yeah...truth be told, I felt vaguely guilty since the asylum had been much the same - a meatgrinder-with-undead.  I think if I had to do it over again, I would have spaced those two out more.  I know Dru in particular got very frustrated with the number of incorporeal undead they encountered - even with the magic rapier she got from the dead assassin, it seemed like she had awful luck on the 50% miss chance.  I have a feeling that they will be looking for someone capable of making _ghost touch_ blades...but since I believe that requires _plane shift_, it might be a while.

Last game tonight before the hiatus (and Dru takes the DM seat for a while!)

J


----------



## Horacio

I'm back! I'm back!
But Madness isn't finished


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part Nine: The Scales of the Serpent*

_I saved it for ya, Horacio.  Nah, I just got busy over the weekend.  But here's the last part of Session Fourteen, and more to come (maybe even later tonight).  We wrapped up with the epilogue on Friday, no game next Friday, and after that it's Dru for a while - I'll link to her storyhour when she starts posting it.  For now, though...back to the sunken temple of Yig!_


The armored serpent stood amid the flames, and laughed.  Varesh was hunched in the corridor, hand clutching a bloodied chest, and the stink of ozone and burnt fur hung around him like a veil.  Di'Fier cursed as he saw that his _flaming sphere_ was useless, and let it sputter out.  Dru's blade had gone skittering off the scales, unable to penetrate...was there any way to hurt it? Di'Fier raised his own sword and stepped forward, the shock of impact numbing his arms to the elbow - but the serpentman stood unmoved.

"There's a discolored scale!" Dru cried.  "Try for that, it may be a weak point!"

"Where?" shouted her partner, fending off the crackling spear. "I don't see it!" He pushed the weapon away, and heard the thick Dwarven chanting of Garto...and then the room was filled with sticky strands of webbing, snarling the armor and its weapon.  The serpent fought to free itself, but to no avail.

Taking careful aim, Di'Fier swung again - this time at the stained patch of armor just below the right breast - and lo and behold, the blow made the shadow-creature inside the armor shriek with pain. Varesh tore the sparking spear from its grasp, and stabbed at the same spot.  The armored creature's struggles grew weaker, and then ceased...momentarily.

Erupting from the eyesocklets of the entangled armor came a shadowy serpent-form, roaring with range and frustration, liquid darkness dripping from its wounds as it lunged for the rat-man, tearing away at his strength. The blades of the companions slammed into the shadow-thing over and over, and soon it evaporated under the deadly onslaught.

Dru set about burning the armor free of the webs. "Damn shame this won't fit any of us," she muttered. "Invulnerable armor would be handy the way our lives go."






“The Fangss of Yig? Yig livess in the lowest part of the temple, in the form of a giant sserpent.  Perhapss that iss what you sseek.  Take the healing ointment on the sshelf - it can do nothing for uss.  Now, do ass you promissed...free uss!"

The serpent priests in the temple's infirmary had been cursed with undeath like all the others - but their wounds had not been cured.  So they lingered, in an unhealing, undying stasis.  The price for their aid was an end to their suffering.  Dru raised her blade in a salute.

"Ahh...I did not think...it would hurt...sso..."


----------



## Horacio

Grreeat update, but I NEED another one!


----------



## ValAssante

*Wanting more*

I want more....please finish the story the suspense is killing me

Nelson Rodriguez
VP Paradigm Concepts


----------



## Horacio

What can I add?
Me too...


----------



## Zarthon

Hmmm...what can I say??

oh yes!!    bump


----------



## Horacio

BUMP!


----------



## Zarthon

> BUMP




I miss Di'Fier & Dru.


----------



## DiFier

I'm still here.  Perhaps Dr. N is just depressed about the outcome of the first freeport book.  I don't want to give anything away but as you have probablly guessed from Dr. N teasers The end of this book was bitter sweet.


----------



## Horacio

That was ruthless, teasing us again! 

But seriosuly, I NEED to know the ending of the story, please! 

I only hope it is no too bitter


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

I'm still here too!  I'll try to sweet talk Dr. N into posting again, so that you addicts can have your fix.


----------



## drnuncheon

Memo to Self: in the future, avoid running dungeon crawls...they are darn hard to write and make interesting (for author *and* readers).  Like last time (the asylum), I bogged down writing about a long period of kick-in-the-door...

Anyway, I've been taking a long break from EN World, but I'm back now, and I'll resume posting just as soon as I find my notebook...

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part One: Yig*

_*Compiler's Note:* Dru has been instructed to beat me savagely if I don't start doing 'post a day' until we are finished.  With that in mind, here is today's installment.  Also, look for Dru's Story Hour, which should be posted soon - same players, different world, very different flavor..._

Session Fifteen, Part One: Yig

Dru stepped away from the door.  Unlike the others in the temple, it was securely locked...and spiked shut. "It sounds like there's someone in there.  Talking."

Di'Fier looked at the spikes and thought about how long the temple had remained lost.  "Let's leave that one until last."






It all started to go downhill when Dru was paralyzed.  Nobody expected it.  Her elven blood had always let her weather the worst wounds a ghoul could inflict, but there was something different about the serpentine horrors they fought now. Di'Fier's hands shifted on the hilt of his blade, trying to keep a good grip despite the blood that ran down his arm.  A crosswise cut, and one of the things leapt back, black ichor welling up in the wound.  Dimly, on the edge of his vision, he could see the weakened Varesh trying to drag Dru from the room, and then the creatures were upon him again.

Garto pulled his massive axe out of the chest of one of the things. "Run!" he shouted at Di'Fier, still fending off three of the creatures. "Run!" He jumped backwards, off the table he'd been standing on, and reached for a scroll.  

Di'Fier hadn't moved.  "We've got to hold them off!"

"I _told_ yer to run!" the dwarf shouted, ducking under a clawed swipe and chanting loudly.  Fire blossomed from the back of the room, rushing out to engulf the serpent-creatures...and Di'Fier.  A blast of heat forced Garto back as the flames cleared...revealing four figures still standing, locked in desperate combat.

"Garto..._it didn't kill them!_" Di'Fier took a step backward, swinging his blade - but claws tore into his smouldering clothing, and he, too fell victim to the numbing paralysis. He felt himself tip over, and begin to move.






Dru and Di'Fier lay side by side in the corridor.  The elf worked her jaw for a few moments, feeling the effects of the paralysis begin to come undone. "I hate this," she mumbled indistinctly.

Her partner would have nodded, if he were able.  The most he could do was to mumble indistinctly himself: "I'm ready to go home now."

Suddenly, the hairy face of Garto looked large in his vision.  "Good thing yer' wakin' up. They've just about made it through the door."  The sound of cracking wood underscored his words.

Slowly, the two Watchmen struggled to their feet, retrieving their weapons.  They arrayed themselves around the splintering door, and the slaughter began.






Dru surveyed the crescent-shaped room warily.  So far, nothing had leapt out to attack them.

She didn't like it.  Her eyes played over the faded rug, the empty glass case containing a rotting log - _what a strange thing to have in a room_, she thought - and alighted on the desk.  Atop it lay a journal, still open.

Behind her, Di'Fier sneezed.  She whirled, to see her partner standing rather sheepishly in the cloud of dust he'd raised by prodding the pillows.  Forcing herself to relax, she moved back towards the desk.

"It's in Valossan, of course," she muttered.  "Garto! What do you make of this?"

The dwarf ambled over, leaning his axe against the desk, and riffled through the pages.  "It's a journal...Alisstar's journal." He paused here and there to read in more detail, running his blunt finger along under the lines, then licking it to turn the page.

"Well?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry. I know a guy who'd pay a lot of money for this...there's a lot of detail on Valossan life in here that's been lost."  He looked at the book. "If he believed it was authentic.  Doesn't look like it's been lost for thousands of years, does it?"

Dru's eyes narrowed.  "What does it _say_, Garto?"

"Hm? Oh. Well, he was worried about the Unspeakable One." At Dru's 'go-ahead' gesture, he began to read. "'It is clear that this Unspeakable God is not of this world.  It is possible that he is from another plane of existence altogether.  To defeat him, it may be necessary to send him back to his own plane, or imprison him on this one.'"

"Dru, this chest is locked," called Di'Fier. "Come have a look."

The elf walked over pulling out her lockpicks.  _I guess Papa's training comes in handy sometimes after all,_ she thought, as she felt out the lock's mechanism with the tiny tools.  Dimly behind her, she could hear Garto and Di'Fier talking.

"Ya know, I know a guy useta keep his pet in a case just like that."

The lock clicked open.

"Oh really? What kind of pet did he have?"

The coiled darkness inside the box lashed out, wrapping its icy form around Dru. "_Snake!_" she screamed. "_Getitoffme! Getitoffme! Getitoffme!_" The shadowy head looked at her dispassionately as she struggled to breathe.  Somehow, that made it all the worse.

Garto and Di'Fier began to chant as Dru fell to one knee and wrenched her arm free of the coils.  Twin beams of dusty brown lanced out, boiling the surface of the snake where they hit, making it loosen enough for her to reach her rapier. She began to saw at the thing's scales with the blade.

A crackle of ozone heralded a near miss from Varesh, and Dru took a breath. "_Getitoffme! Getitoffme!_" she screamed, wrenching the thing farther from her body and hacking viciously.  Garto's axe passed through its insubstantial form - and nearly through Dru, who continued to hack furiously at the thing. "Varesh, the _wand!_ The _wand!_ Use the-" She hesitated. "Oh. It's dead."






So it came to this: the lowest level of the temple.  Two great double doors faced a statue of the coiled serpent-god.  Twin beams of light blazed from its eyes, lancing across the corridor to strike the eyes of the snake carved on the doors themselves.  Dru studied the statue. "I think I see something."

The others watched as she clambered up the side of the carving.  "These eyes have lids," she reported.  "I'm going to try closing them.  Get ready."  Stone covers slid down, blocking the light, and the corridor was plunged into darkness.  The four of them could hear the doors at the far end swing open.  Dru pulled her punch-dagger, its dim glow doing the best it could to illuminate the hall.

From beyond the open doors, they could hear the rasp of massive scales on stone.


----------



## Jon Potter

*At long last...*

It's good to see an update.

Been checking here and at the EZ board site daily; I'm always happy when my bull-headed persistance pays off.

Good to have you back and I also look forward to checking out Dru's storyhour when it debutes!


----------



## Horacio

An update!
An update!

_Horacio sings and dances happily_


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Two: The Madman's Riddle*

_Post-a-Day continues! Is the 200-post thread limit still in effect on the new servers?_


A single eye shone dully in the darkness - an eye far larger than any Dru had ever wanted to see in her life.  As the gigantic snake slithered out of the chamber it had been trapped in for so long, the stench of rot hit the Watchmen like a mace.  The monstrous serpent had suffered the same fate as the other inhabitants of the temple - trapped beyond death, forced to inhabit a decaying, almost mummified carcass.

_At least there's no maggots on this one,_ she thought wryly.

The snake reared up as high as it could in the tight confines of the corridor, and bared its fangs: two gleaming ivory curves as long as a man's forearm - the Fangs of Yig.  A bolt from Garto's crossbow clattered off the wall, and the dwarf swore as the serpent surged forward to meet them.  Their blades sunk into the undead flesh with no effect, but the fangs sank deep into Dru's leg, and she nearly fell from her perch on the statue of Yig.

Garto chanted, and the air was filled with the reek of acid as a magical bolt impacted on the creature's scales and started to eat its way through.  The fangs pierced Di'Fier's shoulder, and the coursing blood made the grip of his sword slick - but he and his partner's blades struck deep, cleaving off huge chunks of decaying flesh.

The serpent shuddered as Varesh plied the magic of Dru's healing wand against it - and attracted its attention.  Doubling back on itself, it struck like lightning - and then coiled its body around the rat, squeezing the breath from him.  He struggled futilely to free himself, but the undead muscles were too strong, and all he could do was gnaw away at the putrid meat that captivated him until the pain was too great for him to bear.

Letting its unconscious prey fall to the floor, the snake lashed out down the corridor at Dru, who dove behind the statue of Yig.  Di'Fier grabbed Varesh and dragged him away, pouring the contents of a vial down his throat and restoring him to consciousness.

The snake, foiled in its attempts to get Dru from behidn Yig's statue, reversed itself - and Dru took the opportunity to leap out and bury her blade to the hilt in its side.  Di'Fier's blade slashed across its snout, making the abomination instinctively rear back with a hiss.  Varesh plied the healing wand again as Dru's blade struck deep, and then dove out of the way as the creature thundered down the corridor towards Di'Fier.

The young mage drew his wand from its belt loop and pointed it at the snake.  The golden dart of energy slammed trough the back of the thing's skull, and it crashed unmoving to the floor.

"Di'Fier, are you all right?" called Dru.

"Hang on," he said, drawing his dagger and prying the great mouth open.  "I'm doing some dentistry."






With the Fangs and Scales of Yig safely in their possession, the foursome had half of the artifacts they had set out to find - but the Amulet and the Venom were yet to be located.  Di'Fier cautiously pushed the door in front of him open.

The room was small, and stones set into the walls glowed with heat.  The floor was littered with leathery eggshells, crushed, split, destroyed. They entered cautiously, poking about in the fragments.

It was Dru that found the intact egg.  Soon all four were gathered around it, looking at the only survivor of the carnage.

Varesh's opinion was simple. "Kill it," the rat-man hissed.  As if to punctuate his words, the spear he carried crackled, and gave off a scent of ozone.

Dru looked at her partner, and finding no guidance there, shrugged and stepped away. A single strike from Varesh, and the egg joined the rest of the clutch.

As the others filed out, Di'Fier looked down at the egg. _I hope we don't regret this..._ he thought to himself.






They reassembled outside the door that had been spiked shut, and Dru leaned her ear to it. "I can still hear it," she muttered.

"Not much else to do," said Garto, hammering the spikes out.  As he did so, the voice became silent. They paused, waiting, but no sound came.  Finally, Dru pushed the door open.

A voice floated out - a soft, hypnotic croon.  "Come to me you musst, young oness...the Venom you sseek...only Sseth knows where it is hidden..." Then it changed, seeming almost to snarl with rage. "But tell you I will not!" It relaxed, again: "Yess...you musst...No!...yess..."

The companions looked dubiously at each other as the voice continued.  "Yess, I will...ansswer a riddle they musst."  Garto at least relaxed - for an adventurer, this was familiar ground.  "Ask away," he rumbled.

_
I create life and also nourish it.
I contain life and the future for some.
I am first, although some say I came last.
I am fragile, yet strong enough to hold precious cargo.
_

There was a moment of silence, and Di'Fier's stomach turned with guilt and fear.  There was really only one possible answer. Softly, he swallowed and said, "Egg."

"Desstroyed the eggss, I did..." Sseth spat. "To ssave them from the cursse...but egg iss the ansswer, yess.  Ssearch the sstatue of Yig, in the middle of hiss tail, and you will find the Venom of the Sserpent."


----------



## Horacio

Great update, with a creature who rolls the ssss and likes riddles... 
Are you ssssure they are looking for a venom and not for a ring, my treasssure?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Three: The Sacrifice*

_*Compiler's Note:* OK, I missed yesterday.  So two today.  Here's the first, finishing things off in the Temple and preparing for the action-packed finale..._

Dru lifted the vial out of the hidden compartment.  "So that's the Venom.  All that's left is the Amulet."

"Hopefully it's not behind all those zombies," Garto muttered.  The foursome had discovered a room packed full of the undead creatures...and closed and blocked the door to avoid dealing with them. Neither Dru nor Di'Fier were anxious to relive their experiences in the Asylum.

"No, I think it's upstairs.  Remember that shiny thing I saw in the water-filled room?"

"Shiny thing? Now you sound like Ampiel," Di'fier quipped - wondering how his familiar was doing.  The raven had elected not to accompany them into the water.  _Bored,_ came the answer over the bond they shared. _Hungry._ 

Di'Fier chuckled to himself as they headed up the ramp.







Dru swam through the murky water, to the source of the gleaming she'd seen earlier. Reaching out for it, she held the amulet up in triumph - a golden serpent's head.

The the shadow-serpent attacked.

They were ready for it, of course - Dru had spotted that on her way through the room first.  Dru kicked, propelling herself out of the way, and bubbles streamed from Varesh's mouth as the ratman chanted the world to activate the healing wand.  The shadow recoiled from the pain and lashed out, sapping some of Di'Fier's strength.  The guardsman's own wand was in his hand - his cumbersome blade almost useless in the water - and the dart pierced the shadowstuff even as it clawed at him.

Varesh launched his spear through the water for Di'Fier to defend himself with, but Dru had already pierced the creature with her magical blade, and it dissipated into nothing more than a chilly patch of water.  

The four descended out of the watery room, to meet with Alisstar.

"At lasst," the serpent priest crooned. "Finally, the ritual can be completed, and we can have Yig'ss forgivenesss. But..." The serpent paused a moment. "I sstill need one further piesse of aid.  My incorporeal body cannot perform the physsical actionss of the ritual."

"I'm sure one of us can..." Di'Fier began.

"There iss ssomething you musst know, however..." Alisstar interrupted.

"I _knew_ there was a catch," muttered Garto.

"Whoever performss the ritual musst make a ssacrifice...ssome of your life force will be given to Yig.  You will be forever weakend by it...but only thiss way can we be releassed."

Dru finished what Alisstar had left unsaid: "And only this way can we get the Jade Serpent." The four looked at each other.

Varesh's opinion was blunt and to the point: "Let them hurt. Not need statue."

"Short straw again?" Di'Fier ventured.  But his partner had already stepped up to the altar.  

"All right, Alisstar, what do I need to do?"

Varesh started forward. "Do not!" But Di'Fier's hand restrained him.  Instead, the ratman crouched and hissed distrustfully at the shadow priest.

"Don the Amulet of the Sserpent. Arrange the Sscaless on the altar. Pour the Venom into the bowl.  After the initial sseremony iss complete, you musst take the Fangss of the Sserpent and open your wrisstss, letting the blood mingle with the Venom.  Pour the mixture over the Scaless, and the ssacrifice will be complete."

Alisstar began to chant as Dru prepared herself. Varesh crouched resentfully in a corner, and Garto could not meet Dru's eyes.  Di'Fier forced himself to watch as the Fangs added two more wounds to the network of scars running up Dru's arms, and as her blood dribbled into the bowl, mixing with the amber Venom.

As Dru lifted the bowl, it seemed as though Alisstar had been joined by a host of other chanters.  The mixture poured out over the scales with a hissing noise, and a cloud of steam arose.

"IT ISS DONE!" cried Alisstar, in a voice not entirely his own. The altarstone cracked, falling into two halves, and from the cavity beneath floated a statuette of a coiled serpent, carved from jade. Dru reached out and took it, the blood from her wrists turning the translucent green stone dark.

"You musst go," said Alisstar, already beginning to unravel. "It iss no longer safe to remain here."

_No longer?_ thought Di'Fier.

As if to emphasize the serpentman's words, the water from the floor above began to drip...and then pour faster, as whatever spell had kept it suspended began to erode.  Alisstar shouted to be heard over the sound. "Go now! And know that you alwayss have our thankss!"  With those words, he vanished.

The rest of the water came crashing into the room. Dru grabbed hold of her partner as he was nearly swept away, while Garto latched on to the shattered altar-stone.  Varesh's claws left white marks along the stone wall as he was pushed backward.

And then...the water stopped, as the room above was emptied. Dru relaxed her hold on her partner and cradled the Jade Serpent in both arms. Garto climbed on top of the shattered altar. "The water's still risin' - must be comin' in from below, too.  We'd better get out of here."






Dru leaned back in the chair, her wounds healed, as she watched Egil attend to Di'Fier using scrolls that Thuron had left for them. "The Temple was awful. There were undead serpent people all over it."

"Undead?" asked Egil. "Perhaps I _should_ have gone with you..."

"The giant zombie snake was a nice touch," Dru added, and chuckled as Egil went pale.

"Perhaps I am glad I did _not_ go with you."  Egil looked over at the Jade Serpent. "A pity you did not get back sooner - Thuron would have liked to know you had the Serpent before he sent off for the lighthouse.  I hope he will be all right..."

Di'Fier nodded. "He should be. There will be too many visiting dignitaries for the Brotherhood to try anything during the day.  It's tonight, when they light it, that I'm worried about." 

"You couldn't get there during the day, anyway," Egil said.  "There are three ships circling the island, and triple guards on the building."

Di'Fier looked over at Dru. "I think we should go pay a visit to Captain Donnach.  If anything happens, he might be able to help."






There was no moon over Freeport that night - only the starlight, and the occasional flame of a lantern broke the darkness of the Warehouse district.  Down the shore, the Docks were ablaze with light as the citizens prepared for the Lighthouse ceremony.  A single figure waited by a warehouse, unaware of the two shadows that detached themselves from the darkness and moved towards him.

"Watch-sergeant," a voice said in his ear, and he spun, hand on the hilt of his short sword. "Oh," he said. "It's you two.  Mind telling me what this is all about?"

"Good to see you again, Paden," grinned Di'Fier.

Dru smirked. "This is an unofficial investigation that we are in charge of."

"I hope you don't mind working with a rather...unusual...partner."


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Four: To the Lighthouse!*

The black shape of the Lighthouse of Drac loomed above their heads as Dru, Di'Fier, Paden, and Varesh pulled their tiny boat onto the rocky shore.  It was easy to call it "Milton's Folly" and mock it in the (comparative) safety of Freeport, but here and now it was another thing entirely.

Especially when they had some idea of what was going on, far above their heads.

They crouched in the shadows of some rocks as Di'Fier spoke the words of his magic: first to strengthen himself, them to protect himself, and finally, to let them climb up the sheer cliff - and into the lighthouse itself.

Dru pulled a flask from her pouch and downed the contents, letting the liquid shadows wrap around her and hide her from prying eyes.  Not quite as undetectable as _invisibility_, but at least it wouldn't vanish the first time she hit someone.  Then she was moving, a darker patch on mottled shadows.  The others followed.

When they reached the top, Dru was already partway up the lighthouse wall.  A double door pointed in each of the cardinal directions, but enormous open archways ringed the room - their base twenty feet up a steep, smooth slope.  Not an easy climb for anyone not aided by magic.

Dru signalled the others to come ahead, and they did, looking down onto the mail hall of the edifice. Fifty yards square, the hall was filled with carved columns supporting the weight of the lighthouse's upper stories. In the center, a staircase of white marble rose to the ceiling.  A wind whistled through the archways, carrying the bitter tang of the oncoming rainy season.

A normal climber would have had to descend the walls - and then deal with the four guards lounging, bored, at the base of the staircase.  Then again, as has been previously noted, they were not ordinary climbers.

Slowly, one by one, they crept up the wall and out onto the ceiling, sticking by hands and feet.  Dru vanished through the opening at the top of the staircase,Di'Fier adopted a strange three-limbed gait, the fourth clutching the Jade Serpent. _I really should have tied it to me,_ he thought, looking down at the floor, fifty feet below. _If I drop it..._

He was never really sure what made the guardsman look up.  An incipient sneeze, perhaps, or a desire to look once again at the naked sea-nymphs carved into the column he was passing by.  But whatever it was, he could hear the reaction, echoed and magnified by the stone walls.

"Up there! On the ceiling!"

Varesh was past him in a flash, his spear bumping along his back where he had tied it. "Statue," the rat-man demanded, and Di'Fier gratefully passed it over. Varesh was far better at this than he was anyway. Before he could blink, the rat-man was through the opening as well.  "Paden, come _on_!" 

The guards below had seized their crossbows, and bolts arced upwards at them, bouncing off the marble to fall below. Di'Fier climbed through onto the next floor, grateful to be right-side up again, only to be greeted by even more chaos.

Dru had taken cover behind a pillar with her shortbow, and Di'Fier could see the results of her marksmanship in the arrow that protruded from the shoulder of the vaguely familiar-looking woman standing at the altar - a woman chanting. _That can't be good,_ he thought, sliding the wand from its leather case and aiming. The arcane dart that erupted forth did little more than scorch the priestess - but it did ruin her spell.

Di'Fier looked around the rest of the room. Four other cultists were in front of the altar, preparing to charge.  The room - a temple to the Sea God - had been defaced and desecrated, the statues marred and the Yellow Sign scorched onto the wall.  Blood already covered the altar, and bound to it was the next sacrifice: Thuron!

Behind him, Paden scrambled through the opening, and Di'Fier could hear shouts from the guards climbing the stairs. Then Varesh was hurtling past him like a brown furry javelin, sprouting steel in both hands, dealing a wicked slash to one of the cultists and breaking their charge before it began.

Dru, meanwhile, had crawled partway up the pillar, and turned to loose another arrow at the priestess.  It slammed through her robe, and the chainmail beneath.  The woman cried out to her patron: "Unspeakable One! Shield me from sight!"

As the mists began to rise from the floor, Di'Fier remembered where he'd seen the woman before.  She'd used this trick before, in the abanoned temple. _Well, not this time,_ he thought, chanting the words to a spell.  A ball of flames materialized in front of him, and bounded through the fog, burning a clear path towards the altar - but the woman had already moved.

The mist swirled, and one of the cutlists emerged. "Flee the wrath of the Unspeakable One!" he cried, and gestured imperiously towards Di'Fier.

Who stood, waiting patiently, for something to happen.

The cultist's face twisted in a mixture of rage and fear. He repeated the gesture, but to no avail.

The other cultists had emerged from the sheltering mists as well.  One put a well-placed shot into Paden's back as he stood blocking the stairs - but the young priest's reflexes let him take the bolt largely on his armor.  Dru retaliated by placing an arrow into the man's shooting arm - a bit late, perhaps, but better than nothing.  Varesh was faring far better against his own opponent, who seemed dazzled by the pair of flashing blades the ratman weilded.

Di'Fier charged forward, blade in hand, and the cultist fell back, still futilely repeating his impotent gesture.  The Watchman ignored him, and headed into the path that his _flaming sphere_ had cleared, heading for the altar - and Thuron.

Behind him, he could hear the sounds of battle, muffled and distorted by the fog. The guards had made it up the stairs, but Paden was holding them off.  Dru's bowstring thrummed a steady rhythm as she sent her deadly arrows down upon the cultists.  But then another sound cut through it all, and hung in the air:

It was the sound of Thuron's scream.

_*Compiler's Note*: There, I'm all caught up to my Post-a-Day schedule.  Those of you looking for still more entertainment should take note - Dru has begun posting the Story Hour for her interim game.  It's located here: Dru's Story Hour.  It's quite different from the Freeport stories, but just as much fun - and I actually get to play! Be sure to check it out!_


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## Horacio

Thanks for the updates!

Right now, I'm heading towards Dru's Story Hour...


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## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Five: Thuron's Fate*

_*Compiler's Note*: Lightning & thunder yesterday when I sat down to write...so two updates today.  It's not 'Post-a-Day', it's 'Two-Posts-Every-Two-Days!'_

Di'Fier's heart skipped a beat as he heard the old priest's scream - and the droning chant of the priestess underlying it. Focusing on the sound of her paean to the Unspeakable One, he sent the _flaming sphere_ arcing through the air to land with a satisfying spongy thump directly on the cultist.  She barely had time to scream before the flames took her life.

He ran through the mist to the altar.  Thuron was alive...barely. The old man's features blurred here and there, melting into the scales of the true form that Di'Fier had never seen.

"You have...come..." he said, weakly clutching at Di'Fier's arm.

"Yes, Thuron. We found the Jade Serpent."

"Is that...all...?"  Thuron's face was white, and his lips pale.  His eyelids fluttered, but he kept his gaze fixed on the young Watchman, searching for...something.

Di'Fier could dimly hear the shouts and cries of the battle outside the mist, but all he could think of was the egg - the egg that they had let Varesh destroy.

"...that was all," he lied.

Thuron's face seemed to collapse at Di'Fier's pronouncement. "Then there is...nothing...left for me...here," he rasped, and let his eyes close as he sank back upon the altar. 

He breathed only twice more, and then K'Stallo, the last High Priest of Yig, went to join his god.






Paden stumbled, and the hole in his defenses let the guard's blade slip through again. He couldn't hold them off much longer, and he could only hope that the others had finished dealign with the cultists.  The scream he'd heard hadn't sounded good...

"Paden, _move!_" ordered a voice from behind him, and the young priest threw himself to the side just as a ball of flames crashed through where he'd been, followed immediately by Di'Fier and his blade.  The guard took the hit with a grunt, twisting away from the battle-blade to minimize the wound.

Realizing that he had to let his fellows join the fight if he was to win, the guard charged, prepared to bodyslam Di'Fier and move him from the doorway - but once again, he made the close acquaintance of the Watch-Lieutenant's blade, and this time his companions were forced to leap over his corpse as it tumbled down the stairs.

Paden hauled himself up, clutching the tiny silver medallion on his chest and calling upon the favor of his god. "You cannot stand in the way of just Retribution!" The power of his faith crashed through the room, and their enemies quailed before it.

Still, the next of the guards was just as foolish as his predecessor, and charged Di'Fier as well.  The Watchman's blade caught in his armor, opening a gash in his side but also trapping it, letting him shove the taller man out of the way - and now the other two guards were able to join the fight.

The melee was well and truly joined now - Dru pulled her sword and leapt from her place on the pillar, sending her rapier deep into an unsuspecting guardsman, piercing him from shoulder to groin.  The body crumpled, and the elf pulled the blade free, reversing it to a proper grip with a grim smile.

Di'Fier had taken care of another of the guards, and Varesh a third.  The last one seemed oblivious to the deaths of his fellows - or perhaps he'd been promised eternal rewards if he died in his god's service. Whatever the case, he fought on, despite being outnumbered four to one. 

His chainmail turned Dru's blade again and again, but it did little to protect him from Di'Fier's two-handed swing.  For a moment, all was quiet.






Di'Fier looked down at the dead woman in the pool. "Looks like someone else broke in here as well," he told the others. "Probably wanted to see if there were any valuables in the shrines." Flipping the corpse over, he began to go through its pockets.  "Well, well, look here.  A potion.  A well-equipped burglar."  Studying the alchemical symbols on the vial a moment, he reported: "It lets you fly.  Dru, want it?" At her nod, he passed her the vial.

Varesh began stipping the leather armor from the woman.  He'd refused the chainmail that the guards and cultists had been wearing - it was far too heavy - but the _cuir-bouilli_ was not so cumbersome.

Meanwhile, Dru had been inspecting the statue of the Sea God in the corner of the shrine. "Here. Look at this. His hand's got a crack on it. Looks like you can move it." She tugged on the trident, and the hand swiveled. 

A grinding sound came from the wall Paden was leaning against, and the young priest jumped. "Something happened back here," he said, looking the wall over. Hidden in one of the carvings, he found a catch, and flipped it.  A section of the stone wall opened outward like a door.

Beyond it was a tiny room, with the back of a similar door on the other side.  When opened, it led to the other shrine in the lighthouse: a shrine to the Warrior God.

Dru frowned. "Why have a secret passage connecting these two shrines when you can just walk through the main temple? That doesn't make much sense..."

"You're right, it doesn't," her partner agreed, walking over to the statue of the Warrior God.  He studied the arm that held the spear a moment, then pulled firmly down on it. Another grinding of stone emanated from the hidden passageway, and when they looked, they found that one of the walls had slid away, revealing a staircase.






The trapdoor creaked open, and a pair of eyes peered cautiously about. Di'Fier's face turned vaguely green. "Smells worse than Krom's Throat on a hot day," he said, looking around the room.

Blood had soaked into the floors, and bits of bone were strewn about the room. Unlike the lower floors, it was largely unlit - shadows hid the corners of the room.

"I think I hear something," he reported to the others. The Watchman climbed out of the trapdoor, followed by Dru.  Her eyes could see what his human eyes could not, and she froze. "Di'Fier..."

"Yes?"

"We're about to find out what happened to the missing workers..."


----------



## Horacio

Great update, as always, but I still want more


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## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Six: Drac's Pet*

_Horacio: ask and ye shall receive! I'm still one behind thanks to a power outage yesterday. Yup, got throught he thunderstorm OK, but a light breeze sprang up so we lost our electricity...go Duquesne Light! Tonight we are actually not doing Dru's game - we've been tapped to do a bit of playtesting...I'll try to get another one in, later today or maybe tomorrow. For now, enjoy the cliffhanger..._

The shape moved forward out of the darkness.

Shape, perhaps, was the wrong word to describe it, for its most significant attribute was its shapelessness.  A disgusting protean blob, an amalgamation of skin. Eyes and mouths bubbled to the surface, then subsided.  It began to mutter as it squelched across the floor towards them.

"Do you mean it ate the workers, or...?"

"...or it is the workers..." Dru suppressed a shudder as the abomination moved closer.

Di'Fier began the incantations of his spell of _protection from evil_, and Paden called upon his god to bless this fight.  "We're going to need it, I think..." he muttered in closing.

The muttering grew louder, into a frenzied babble of voices coming from the mouths that appeared and vanished on the thing's skin.  It hammered at their ears, demanded entry to their brains.  Dru gritted her teeth, remembering the undead creature they'd fought under the asylum, and managed to close out the effects - as did he rcompanions.  Only Varesh was left, clutching his head and shaking it to try to clear it.

Di'Fier's blade bit into the thing, sending a gout of blood - and other, less identifiable fluids - over the stone floor.  Paden's crossbow thrummed, butthe bolt went wide, and Dru's blade failed to do more than scratch its amorphous mass.

The thing opened its mouths in an incoherent scream - and _spat_.  The spittle flared into blinding light as it hit the air, leaving Di'Fier dazzled, swinging his blade at afterimages of light. He could hear the melee as he stumbled away, trying to put some distance between him and the beast until he regained his vision.  There was Varesh's warcry, and the creature's babble briefly became a scream as the rats blades hit home. Bowstrings, and the sick squelch of the arrows hitting home - and then a screech of pain from Varesh.

Di'Fier shook his head, blinking to try to clear his vision more rapidly. He could feel a pillar against his back, and edged around it, trying to give himself some cover from whatever was happening. He fervently hoped it wasn't as bad as it sounded...

There was another blinding flash, and Paden cried out.






Dru growled, deep in her throat, and tossed her bow to one side.  She'd sent two arrows into the thing, deep enough that they disappeared, and it hadn't seemed to notice.  One of its mouths had launched itself out to attach to Varesh, and on top of it all, that constant babbling was _really_ getting on her nerves. She drew her sword and moved in.  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Di'Fier doing the same - apparently he'd recovered from the blindness. Her blade stabbed deep, and green ichor spurted from the puncture. Across form her, Di'Fier's blade cleaved a chunk from the creature, which dropped back into the thing's mass to the sound of...chewing.

Her partner spun the blade around on the follow-through and cleaved the thing again.  Dru started to take a step forward, then looked in dismay at her feet. "Di'Fier! The floor!" She reached into her pouch and grabbed the potion they'd taken from the dead robber, dowing it in a gulp. Pulling her feet free of the muck that had once been solid stone, she rose into the air.  The sucking sound from the other side of the thing told her that Di'Fier and Varesh were doing the same.

Brandishing her blade, Dru dove, thrusting into the top of the mass.  Thick greyish pus spattered across her, and the thing howled. _That got its attention_, she thought with grim satisfaction - satisfaction that turned to dismay as a volley of mouths arced towards her on thin tendrils, biting into her legs and arm.

"What's going on?" cried Paden. "I still can't see!"

Di'Fier leapt across the softened stone, landing nearly knee-deep and smashing his blade into the thing's body.  Dru reached down and tore one of the mouths from her leg.  She could see the tendrils connecting the other two pulsing, and felt light-headed as the blood drained from her body.  "_Damnit!_ Why does everything we run into want _my_ blood?"

The beast spat again, and Dru closed her eyes.  Her world lit up red.  She opened them, tearing another mouth from her body - and looked up to see more mouths launching themselves, biting deep into Varesh. The struggling rat-man was pulled into the amorphous mess.  She tore the last mouth from her arm and rose up out of the thing's reach, looking down helplessly as the rat-man's outstretched arm vanished beneath a wall of pulsing flesh.


----------



## Horacio

And if I ask for more now, will I be served?


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## Horacio

Silly double post


----------



## Jon Potter

*Great Update!*

Well, great UPDATES actually.

You seem to outdo yourself with each post. You've got me glued to my monitor in anticipation of the next update.

(And it's rather hard to use the mouse when you're glued to your monitor. I don't recommend it.)


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## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Seven: Blind Luck*

"_Damnit!_ Not _again!_" Di'Fier complained, as he fought to keep from being mired in the soft stone.  He swung the sword at where he thought the beast was, but it merely sank into the softened rock. One again he could hear the shouts of those around him, and he swung again - empty air. "Where the hell did it _go_?" He stumbled away, until he stood once more on solid stone.

"Di'Fier!" he could hear his partner cry. "It's got Varesh!"

He knew he'd never make it through the muck - not as blind as he was. Reaching to his belt, he pulled out his dagger, listened for the sound of its voices, wound up, and sent the blade flying.






Dru hovered, looking on in shock. _What the hell is he doing?_ Time seemed to slow as she watched the dagger spin through the air. She could see what was going to happen: the dagger would hit hilt first and bounce off the rubbery skin, or give the thing a papercut at best - and then it would eat Varesh.

She watched as one of the creature's largest mouths bubbled to the surface, directly in the dagger's path, stretching open in a silent scream.

She saw the blade pass within a hair of bouncing off the teeth.

She saw it vanish inside the thing's mouth, heading deep into the body.

And then she saw the creature collapse, deflating into a puddle of rot and gore, with Varesh lying weakly in the center.

Di'Fier stumbled forward, waving his blade in front of him like a deadly cane and shouting: "Where did it go? What happened? Dru? Paden? Varesh?"






_*Compiler's Note:* One of the problems with writing up a game is that sometimes, nobody is going to believe you. I didn't believe it myself, but I watched as Di'Fier rolled - and hit.  Then he rolled the miss chance for being blinded - and still hit. And then he rolled maximum damage.  I like to think that series of rolls in some way makes up for the ones that led up to the die-tossing incident...

(Di'Fier says I should report that the die is still out there somewhere.)_






The trapdoor creaked open, and Dru looked out on the central tower of the lighthouse: an enormous room, nearly fifty feet on each side, and more than twice that in height.  Stone stairs circled the room, climbing in a spiral to the summit of the lighthouse, far above.

The room was lit by a thousand candles - thick yellow pillars perched on the railing of the stairs, the melting wax dribbling and running over the sigils incised into their surface. Inside the bricks, she could feel the Yellow Sign throbbing with power. She clutched the Jade Serpent to her chest and rose out of the trapdoor, clearing the way for the others.

Far above, nearly at the summit of the tower, six faces peered over the railing at them.  Five bore the disctinctive features of serpent people, and the sixth was - no nobody's great surprise - Milton Drac.

"Well, well, well."  Drac's elegant voice floated down to them. "I see you have dispatched my pet. No matter," he chuckled. "The ritual is almost..._agh!_"  His carefully prepared speech was interrupted by a cry of pain.

Di'Fier lowered his wand and grinned.

"N'tal! Dispose of them!" Drac snapped, as he whirled and climbed through the ladder to the top floor.  

The robed serpentman nodded, tearing his garment free of his body as he leapt onto and over the railing. Arcane syllables spilled from his inhuman mouth and he hung suspended in midair. His yellow eyes narrowed as he looked down at his foes. "Come, then," he invited, as his minions unslung their bows and began to descend the steps. "My Master will be pleased to receive your souls."

_*Compiler's Note:* Short update. Longer one later, hopefully. I was going over things with Di'Fier and Dru last night, and we estimate that there are probably 4-5 updates left until the end of Book One.  After that - since Dru's short will probably still be going on - I will devote myself to changing the early parts of this Story Hour from log format into actual stories, as well as other tasks relating to the compiled edition (the master list of NPCs, etc).  If anyone has suggestions for something they'd like to see in the compiled edition - sort of DVD-esque special features, if you will - I am certainly open to hearing them!_


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## Horacio

*Re: Session Fifteen, Part Seven: Blind Luck*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Compiler's Note: Short update. Longer one later, hopefully. I was going over things with Di'Fier and Dru last night, and we estimate that there are probably 4-5 updates left until the end of Book One.  After that - since Dru's short will probably still be going on - I will devote myself to changing the early parts of this Story Hour from log format into actual stories, as well as other tasks relating to the compiled edition (the master list of NPCs, etc).  If anyone has suggestions for something they'd like to see in the compiled edition - sort of DVD-esque special features, if you will - I am certainly open to hearing them! *




In the DVD version I want to see all my _Great Update!_ (tm) posts 


And this one was a... _Great Update!_ (tm)


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## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Eight: Trial by Fire*

Di'Fier's hand snapped back up, and he barked the command word for his wand of _magic missile_.  The eldritch bolt flared through the dim tower towards N'tal - and spent its fury harmlessly, a foot from the serpentman's face. _It's not supposed to do that!_ he thought wildly. _These things never miss!_

Dru, for her part, set the Jade Serpent on the stairs a few levels above her companions, and drew her blade. "Ritual almost complete, huh?" she said. "We'll see about that." The rapier knocked down a row of candles, and eldritch energy sparked around its blade.

High above, the serpentmen loosed a flight of arrows as N'tal called upon his arcane power. _That sounds just like..._ Di'Fier thought, and then he was launching himself backward as a sphere of flame coalesced into being directly in front of him, blocking the stairs at the corner. Turning, he incanted a spell of his own, sending a sizzling arrow of green vitriol towards N'tal...and barely missing him.  Cursing, he dove forward, sliding past the ball of flames blocking his path with nothing more than a scorch-mark on his sleeve. Paden, behind him, was not nearly as lucky, but he pushed through despite the wicked burns along his right side.

Varesh saw no reason to go through the fire like the crazy humans. He leapt to the railing, and jumped past the corner - barely managing to grab the rail with his left hand and pull himself up. He eyed the serpentmen, now making their way down the stairs.

Meanwhile, Dru had shot like an arrow into the air towards N'tal, reveling in the freedom the _fly_ potion had given her. Her rapier slammed into an unyielding force, an invisible shield that hung in front of the wizard, and her arm went numb from the impact. With a hiss that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, N'tal arced away.  At his command, the _flaming sphere_ leapt towards Paden, but the young priest had learned his lesson well, diving and rolling beneath its path. Di'Fier chanted the words to a spell as he ran, gradually growing dimmer until only the sound of his footfalls remained.

_He's got the same kind of magic shield that Kenzil used,_ thought Dru, sheathing her blade. _Which means it can't be everywhere at once..._ With a thought, she sped above him, sending an arrow down past his defenses. It drew a line of blood along his arm, and the serpent wizard looked up at her with hatred.  Unfortunately for the others, he vented that hatred on them.

A glowing mote of lite formed between the serpentman's hands as he chanted. I thung in space a moment, then shot forward to impact the wall in front of Paden and Varesh. In the instant before it exploded, Paden dove over the stone railing, scattering candles as he leapt. The flames slammed into Varesh - and the invisible Di'Fier - but Paden was protected by the stone as he dangled by his fingertips. He hauled himself back over the railing and onto the staircase.

Behind the serpentman, Dru grimaced. She was tired of this - they needed to get to the top of the tower! Speeding through the air, she spied the trapdoor at the top of the stairs, and headed for it, shoulder first.

It didn't give.

Instead, Dru spun about, slamming into the wall at the top of the staircase and landing in a bruised and crumpled heap. "Dammit!" She looked over the railing to see Paden and the smouldering Varesh heal themselves as they ran, and she hoped Di'Fier was all right as well. Paden had grabbed the Jade Serpent as they passed, and was cradling it to his chest as he ran.  The serpentmen were several levels lower now, and still taking the occasional pot-shot when they could, but their accuracy suffered from the constant spiralling.

Dru pulled her blade again, and leapt back out into the center of the chamber. The wizard below her spun, and almost seemed to grin as he called out the syllables of his spell. Not one, but four of the mystic bolts spiralled up towards her. Dru gritted her teeth and felt them slam into her nearly simultaneously, spinning her around and knocking her nearly to the ceiling.  When she spat to clear her mouth, it was red.

"Right. No more good cop."

She arced around behind N'tal, her blade slicing across his back. The serpentman spun again, hissing, and fire bloomed from his hands in a deadly arc, searing across her shoulders and chest. The fabric of her cloak caught flame, and she yanked it off, sending it smouldering to the ground far below.

Again she spun, twisting in midair to lay another stripe of red across his back. As he shot away from her, his eyes went not to his opponents, but to the trapdoor high above. With an imperious gesture, he shouted a word of command. The trapdoor glowed briefly as the binding took effect, and then he turned back to his aerial dance.

"You will never make it in time," the serpentman informed her, watching through narrowed eyes. "Your ssity iss doomed. The Unsspeakable One..."

"...can go to hell," Dru gritted. "And you with him!" Her blade slammed deep into his side. _Maybe that will shut him up!_

N'tal spun away from her, blood running down his side. A quick glance to the staircase reminded the serpentman that he was fighting more than one foe. Time to give them something to think about...

Paden looked up just before the hailstones slammed into him. "Oh, _sh*t!_" Great globes of ice pummeled priest and rat-man, slamming them mercilessly into the stone wall of the tower. Varesh all but collapsed under the onslaught, and Paden reached out to grab his shoulder and keep him upright. Together, they staggered farther up the staircase.

"Dru!" called a voice from the staircase. "_Drop!_"

The Watchman let herself fall, digging a vial of precious healing potion from her pouch. As she watched, Di'Fier faded back into visibility - and N'tal was spun around and slammed into the railing of the staircase by his spell - the same one that had slain the bizarre water-creature in Black Dog's cave.

N'tal, it seemed, was made of sterner stuff. The serpentman forced himself away from the stone, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. He fixed his gaze on the staircase and raised his hand. Three words were spat into the air, and the wall lining the staircase was transformed into a sheet of roaring flame.

Di'Fier dove forward as the heat slammed into his back, transforming his cloak to ashes. Dru watched as Varesh tumbled down the stairs, the magic from her heaing wand keeping him on the edge of life.  But for the one trapped in the middle, there was nowhere to go.

The flames erupted around Paden Blackbatel, and he screamed.


----------



## Jon Potter

Paden!

Noooo!!


----------



## Piratecat

Too... many... posts!

Choices:

1. Start a new thread, and we'll close this one.
2. Trust me to axe extraneous posts such as bumps.
3. Email me with a list of posts you want deleted.

Let me know!


----------



## drnuncheon

Piratecat said:
			
		

> Too... many... posts!
> 
> Choices:
> 
> 1. Start a new thread, and we'll close this one.
> *2. Trust me to axe extraneous posts such as bumps.*
> 3. Email me with a list of posts you want deleted.
> 
> Let me know!




I'll go with #2, PC - I've got only 4 more updates until the end of Book One (and this thread), so we should be able to clear out enough bumpage and extraneous bits to allow that...it'd be kind of a waste to start a whole new thread for one and a half sessions...

(Is the 200-post limit still necessary on the new server? I thought that was one of the things it was supposed to fix...)

J


----------



## drnuncheon

...just waiting for PC to clear out some old posts before I update, so tomorrow expect me to resume...

I did spend some time working on the 'Special Edition' - writing annotations, discussing the adventures I ran and what I changed - and should have changed, or wish I had done differently.

There will be a full 'Dramatis Personae' list with links to first (and in some cases final) appearances, as well as stat blocks for the original characters that I added to the series.

The 'Special Edition' will also include - for the first time ever! - the early adventures of Dru & Di'Fier in story format (with links to the original log-format posts) *and* a special sneak preview of Book Two: Inheritance!

But what else? I want to pack it full of neat stuff.
Interviews with Dru and Di'Fier?
'Cast & Crew commentary'?
Photo gallery?
.wav file of Horacio saying 'Great Update!'?

Anyone with ideas is encouraged to email me at jeffj@io.com to avoid sending the thread back to 200+ posts...

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Nine: ...and then there were three*

_Hmm.  I was hoping a few more posts would disappear...oh well...here's a (short) update. Just a few more to go!_ 


Time seemed to slow as the young cleric crumpled, his garments aflame, still clutching the Jade Serpent to his breast. Di'Fier screamed wordlessly in rage, one hand leaving the hilt of his sword long enough for a quick gesture that blasted the oncoming serpentmen backwards.  One tumbled from the staircase to land in a heap, fifty feet below. Di'Fier could feel the pounding heat of the flaming wall on his back, and it fed his fury as he charged up the stairs, swinging his blade like he intended to mow them down like wheat. A wickedly curved scimitar opened up a slash across his chest, but he ignored it, planting his blade deep into the skull of its weilder and then twisting it free, sending the corpse tumbling down into the flames.

Dru's own shout mingled with his as she twisted in midair, plunging her blade down behind N'tal's collarbone and into his chest, transfixing his body. The serpantman hung in the air for a moment, his yellow eyes looking up at her. "You may slay me, but you will never defeat my god," he told her calmly. Then a slight tugging, as he slid off of the blade and plummeted to the ground.

Dru wanted to spit on him, but her mouth was dry. "Doesn't matter. You're still dead." And she went to join Di'Fier.






Dru crouched beneath the trapdoor at the top of the stairs, waiting for Di'Fier's signal. Precious time had slipped by as they waited for the wall of flames to die down so they could retrieve the statue - and Varesh. She could hear the chanting above her, and beneath it an unearthly hum from some unknown source.

Di'Fier finished the layer of spells he placed on himself, and reached up to the trapdoor. He spoke a word of opening, and his magic contested with the dead N'tal's for a moment, before the door flung itself open, and the trio shot up into the apex of the lighthouse.

The Sea Lord stood there, resplendent in his velvet robes, a heavy golden pendant of the Yellow Sign dangling around his neck. Beside him was a smirking Melkior Maorgan, from the Captain's Council, and a muscular serpentman.

The pillar that the three surrounded supported a crustal the size of a man's head. A beam of yellow light lanced upward from the crystal, passing through the glass enclosure, and piercing the night sky. The entire room throbbed with magical energy.

Drac turned. "As I said...you are too late. The Yellow Sign is now twisting the minds of all those who have gathered in the city to see the completed lighthouse. Soon, they will leave, and the madness of the Unspeakable One will spread across the world!"

Dru snorted, bringing up her bow. "Did you memorize that speech?" Her bowstring thrummed, and the battle began.


----------



## Zarthon

I probably shouldn't be doing this, but BUMP


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Ten: The Yellow Sign*

_*Compiler's Note:* Again, I apologize for the increasingly intermittent updates, I haven't been completely idle, though - I've been working on the collected edition and planning for Book II. The break has been nice but I'm looking forward to getting back into the swing of things..._

Drac dived out of the way as Dru's arrows passed through the space where he'd been. From behind the pillar, he called out: "Maeorgan! Gorn! Destroy them!"

Dru could see the furry shape of Varesh leaping from the trapdoor even as she deflected the serpentman's blows. A lightning thrust, and Gorn staggered back as silence enveloped the room. Summoning the remaining power of the potion, she rose up through the air, out of his reach, and looked for the cause.

She heard a single word, echoing above the eerily silent battle, and then the spell holding her aloft lurched, and she began to float downwards, back into the silence.  The serpentman opened up a long gash across Varesh's chest with his scimitar, sending the ratman staggering back and turning to meet her. Their blades clashed for an instant, and then she slipped past his guard to bloody his scales once again. The pain of the wound made the serpentmna drop his guard, and Varesh was again upon him, hacking with the heavy curved blade of his kukri. 

Gorn staggered back from the dual onslaught, yanking a vial from his pouch and swallowing the contents.  As Dru watched, the serpentman faded from view.






Di'Fier's arms were already numb when he felt the spell stealing into his brain.  Maeorgan was _strong_ - maybe even as strong as Hallfred - and the effort of parrying his blows was wearing out the Watchman too quickly. He could feel his muscles locking up at the behest of the spell - the same one that the gnome had used on him to make his escape.

Maeorgan grinned fiercely as his opponent froze, swinging his longsword back for a mighty blow. The blade whipped silently through the magically stilled air, a perfect horizontal arc.  An arc that would intersect with the Watchman's neck. An arc that would pass cleanly through the vertebrae, neatly removing his head. An arc that was interrupted by the sudden motion of Di'Fier's own sword, in a lightning parry-and-_riposte_ that left a line of fire and blood down the side of his face. 

The Watchman grinned wolfishly - a habit he'd unconsciously picked up from his partner - and glanced over Maeorgan's shoulder.  The Sea Lord was advancing, an empty hand held forward. Di'Fier ducked behind the invisible _shield_ created by Dru's wand, and let the blade ring on the edge of the disc of force. _Ring? Then that means I'm out of the silence!_. Stepping back, he plucked a silvered dagger from his belt and tossed it into the air, calling out the words of a spell. The dagger vanished, and a shimmering blade of force appeared behind the Sea Lord. Di'Fier regripped his blade and swung.






Even as Drac staggered back from the wounds Di'Fier inflicted upon him, Dru saw Maeorgan's blade come crashing down, knocking Varesh across the floor in a shower of blood, before he turned to deal with the Watch-mage. Dru slid in behind him to pour a potion down the ratman's throat, and Varesh twitched weakly, then sat up with a sneeze.

She looked up to see Gorn and Meorgan backing Di'Fier into the corner, their blades rebounding from his shield. _I hope you can hold them...just a little bit longer!_ she thought, looking wildly around the room.  Drac was healing himself, and the crystal was still sending the light lancing up to the sky. _The crystal..._ She surged upwards, planting her hands on the crystal and shoving - she could feel the stone shift slightly, but no more.

"The crystal!" cried Drac, and Gorn spun to see what was going on. With a sibilant curse, the serpentman leapt away from Di'Fier - only to be intercepted by Varesh, baring claw and fang. Dru set her shoulder for another good shove.  She could hear Drac shouting a paean to his god...

...and then the world around her exploded into a swirling mass of iridescent energy.


----------



## Horacio

You're evil, drnuncheon 

I won't be able to read the end of this story until the end of my vacations, on July 20th...

I will suffer a month of cliffhanger...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Eleven: "Do you think you have won?"*

_*Compiler's Note:* Horacio, I hope you're still around - I can't leave you on that cliffhanger for a month! (Not when I've got an even better one.)_

As the energy erupted around her, Dru gave a mighty heave, and felt the crystal slide - and topple. It landed with a heavy crash, and as the dazzling display died away she saw that it was regrettably intact. Her skin stung as if it had been sunburned, but Drac's spell seemed to have no other effect.

"The Unspeakable One blight your souls!" Drac cried, advancing wrathfully.  His hand swept up, and a billowing cloud of inky blackness coalesced around Dru. She could feel a cool bitter burning on her skin for a moment, and then it, too vanished - leaving her again almost unscathed.  She smiled at Drac, and enjoyed seeing his face turn purple with rage.

The light still shone upward from the pedestal, but now it was unchanneled by the crystal. It spiralled and twisted in a pillar, seeking some focus and finding none, lashing across the glass enclosure that formed the roof of the lighthouse. The metal frame twisted and creaked, and the glass shattered, filling the room with a thousand crystalline knives.

Dru pulled the glass from her cheek with a grimace, feeling the blood running down her face. Varesh was staggering where he battled Gorn, Di'Fier was still pinned in the corner by Maeorgan, and Drac was struggling to lift the crystal back into place. She took a step back, grabbed her bow where it lay on the floor, and aimed at the Sea Lord. 

The very stones of the lighthouse began to shake, and she carefully adjusted her aim.  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Gorn's blade send Varesh crashing to the ground again. Her arrow flew, sinking deep into his leg, but in his madness Drac didn't seem to feel it.  The crystal lifted slowly back onto the pedestal, and the shuddering subsided.  Once again, the beam of light lanced up straight into the heavens, doing the work of the Brotherhood.







Di'Fier parried madly as Maeorgan's blade pounded down again. The man was as strong as a blacksmith, and Di'Fier had the uncomfortable realization of just what an anvil must feel like. Only his defensive training had kept him from being cloven in two by the cultist's blade, and even the newly magical blade of his sword was beginning to show nicks along the edge.

He risked a glance over Maeorgan's shoulder to see how Dru was doing. Not good. Varesh was down, and Dru standing over him battling Gorn - with Drac approaching from behind. "Dru! Look out!" he cried, but it was too late. Drac's touch sent a bolt of unholy energy coursing through her, and she staggered, dropping to one knee - but her blade thrust to the side, skewering Drac through his side.

_It's now or never,_ Di'Fier thought to himself, and readied himself for the next anvil-blow. Instead of parrying it, he twisted under it, whirling in a complete circle to bring his blade crashing up across Maeorgan's waist, under the protection of his breastplate.  The Captain stepped back, blood welling from the cut...then, impossibly, raised his longsword and charged. Di'Fier flung his blade up and felt his arms numb yet again from the impact - and then Maeorgan's weight slammed into him, pushing him back.

Di'Fier staggered, reflexively shoving the man away from him - and Maeorgan toppled off of him to crash to the ground. The spreading pool of crimson around him left little doubt that he was not long for this world. Di'Fier's eyes flashed to the other battle, and he regripped his blade.






Dru climbed to her feet as Drac pulled himself off of her blade, seemingly uncaring that she'd just punctured his gut. Before she could press the attack, Gorn was upon her again. The heavy blade whistled down towards her, and met both buckler and her own blade, raised in a desperate block. The force of the blow still sent her back a pace, and her foot began to slide in the blood that had been strewn about the room.

And then, a war-cry erupted behind Gorn. Leaping over the prone Varesh, Di'Fier slammed his massive blade into the serpentman's back, with the full weight of his charge behind it.  The creature stumbled, then crashed to the floor. Di'Fier grinned at her as he planted one foot on the corpse to pull his blade free, and they turned to face Milton Drac.

The Sea Lord grinned at them, cradling an object in his palm: a tiny skull. With a flick of his wrist, the object arced to the floor between the two...and exploded, flinging the two apart. As she crashed to the ground, Dru could see the mangled form of Varesh, thrown up against the pillar, torn apart by the blast and shards of bone.

"Do you think you have _won_?" Drac mocked. "You have accomplished _nothing_!" He turned his face to the sky above. "Unspeakable One, grant me your favor as I dispatch these fools." One hand pulled a cruelly curved sickle from his belt. "Bless this blade as the instrument of their demise." The blade almost seemed to glow in the reflected light from the crystal. Drac smiled, and stepped forward.  Di'Fier had regained his feet, but Drac parried his blow almost casually, sending the Watchman staggering to the side.






_Gods above, how strong is he?_ thought Di'Fier as Drac brushed him aside. He gripped his sword in arms that trembled from loss of blood and stepped forward, watching as Dru grabbed her bow and sent an arrow into the man - an arrow that he seemed not to notice as he advanced on the elf. Dru dropped the bow and grabbed her rapier, barely managing to parry the curved blade.

Di'Fier advanced, blade held low. It was heavy, too heavy. He'd only have one chance. Another step...another...and then he was twisting around, pulling the blade up and over in a deadly arc, slamming it down on the high priest's shoulder, letting loose a shower of blood.  He stepped back to give the Sea Lord room to fall.

Which is why he was so surprised when Drac turned and drew the sickle across his throat.


----------



## Boss

Now THAT, my friends, is a truly evil way to leave Horacio hanging before his vacation!  WELL DONE!


----------



## Jon Potter

*Excellent!*

In Horacio's absence, let me raise the _Great Update!_  (tm) banner and wave it proudly.

This story has got me on the edge of my seat (literally).


----------



## Zarthon

This is getting better and better!!
Keep it up


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Twelve: The End of the Matter*

_*Compiler's Note*: Technically, this drifts into Section Sixteen, aka the Epilogue, but the end of 15 wasn't long enough for a proper update._






_He floated in darkness and fire and ice. The fire lay across his throat, the ice crept up his limbs, and the darkness held him in its arms. There were no sounds here. His mouth was dry, like wood baked in the sun for months.

Then it changed. A cool wetness spread across his mouth, warming the cold and cooling the fire.  A tingling returned to his fingers and toes, and light stabbed at his eyes. 

There was something he had to do._






Di'Fier's eyes snapped open to see Dru crouched over him - and the looming shadow of the Sea Lord behind her, sickle upraised. He shoved his partner back, out of the way of the descending blade, and his other hand came up.

For a moment, the only sound was the ringing of the potion vial as it skittered across the flagstones.

Then, Drac's mouth opened, and he finally seemed to notice the sword through his chest.  The Sea Lord drew a single breath that sucked air through the wound as much as his mouth...and toppled to the side.

Di'Fier could dimly see Dru through the haze of his vision - lifting the Jade Serpent, toppling the crystal, and setting the Serpent in its place.  The sickly yellow of the light vanished, replaced by a cool green. He struggled to sit up, head spinning, looking around at the carnage as his partner slowly slumped against the pillar, sliding down to sit at the base.  

Below, they could hear footsteps thundering up the stairs. With motions born of long habit, the pair reached for their pouches, drawing forth the last of their healing potions and raising them in a silent toast.

"I'll hold the door," he told her. "Get rid of that crystal so they can't put it back up." His partner nodded, and he pushed himself to his feet, using the wall behind him for support. 

A head emerged from the trapdoor. _Too soon,_ Di'Fier thought, as Dru struggled with the crystal. And then a familiar rasp cut through the air.

"Holy _sh-t_," said Jaffar, climbing the rest of the way into the room. "Is that the _Sea Lord?_"

Dru set the crystal down heavily and gave the corpse a kick. "He had the nerve to touch me."

Jaffar looked around the blood-strewn room, as more of the Watch climbed up behind him: Antone, Konstantine, and even Captain Donnach. "Brave man."






A week later, and the pair were back on duty.

"I wonder what happened to Garto? When I went to find him and get my armor enchanted, his landlord said he'd checked out a couple of days ago."

Di'Fier shrugged. "I don't know. I hope he's OK, though. I wanted to bring him along when we went after Black Dog's treasure." He walked on in silence for a moment, then sighed. "I just wish they had let us keep that crystal. I bet it was worth a lot of money. Say, what did you ever do with the Serpent?"

Dru scowled. "I bled for that damn thing, I'm definitely not giving it up."

"Well, what are you going to use it for?"

The elf coughed, finding something very interesting on the other side of the street. "You, er...remember that door that keeps blowing shut? Well, the problem is fixed." She looked down towards the docks. "Hey, look at that ship. The flag's got the symbol of the Temple of Knowledge on it."

"Let's go find out what's going on."

As they approached the dock, they saw a small cluster of priests, and a large number of muscular individuals who seemed to be standing around waiting for orders. After a moment, the circle dispersed: the new priests and their companions headed through the streets, presumably towards the temple, leaving Brother Egil to trail in their wake.

"Egil, what's happening?" Di'Fier asked as he jogged up to the young priest.

"My friends," Egil said with a sad smile. "I had hoped that this would not happen, but..." He sighed, trudging along. "It seems that the priesthood is alarmed by the reports coming from our temple, and they have decided to take steps to make sure that the knowledge here is safe."

"So they're sending more priests?" Dru asked. "That's good, you were kind of running low." Ignoring Di'Fier's glance, she added, "But you won't be keeping your position, is that it?"

Egil shook his head. "No, you misunderstand. They are here to take back the relics and tomes that we have here."

"What do you mean? What are you going to have here?" Dru demanded.

"Nothing," the young priest replied. "They will leave nothing." The trio halted in front of the temple, and Egil struggled briefly to find something else to say.

Lucius walked down the steps, and Egil greeted him with a nod. "They've already begun," the librarian reported. "Wasted no time at all." He nodded at Dru and Di'Fier.

"What are you going to do?" asked Dru, her face showing rare concern.

"We will all be returning to the mainland with them," was the reply. "Where we will be sent to other temples, other assignments."

Lucius cleared his throat. "Not all of us, old friend.  I will be staying here, in Freeport.  Too much of my past is locked up here for me to leave it behind without finding the key."

"I understand, Lucius. I wish it didn't have to be so." The two men clasped hands, and then Egil turned to the Watchmen. "There is no way they can have the boat loaded and back to Highgate before the rainy season, so we will still be here for several months. And who knows what will happen in that time?"

_*Compiler's Note*: Only one more update to go! Then it's full-time on the collected edition, and after that, Book II: Brotherhood. See you soon!_


----------



## Zarthon

Nice doorstop


----------



## drnuncheon

*Epilogue: A Date with Your Family*

As they walked down the cobbled streets of the Old City, Dru growled again. "I am _very_ disappointed that Garto would do this. We, unlike _adventurers_," - she practically spat the word out - "do not live for the treasure."

Di'Fier sighed. "Yeah," was all he said. All during the time they'd been laying low after the chaos in the city, he'd been dreaming about recovering real pirate treasure - Black Dog's treasure.  But when they had gotten there...






"There's no spikes," Dru scowled. "There were spikes before." Her eyes narrowed, and she took a few steps forward. _There was one right about..._

Four feet of sharpened wood sprang upward in a shower of sand, missing Dru by a fraction of an inch. 

_...there. What's this?_ Impaled on the end of the stake was a note.

"Dear Dru,

Reset the traps.

Love, A."

She grabbed the note, crumpling it in her fist, and stomped forward. Another spike shot upward, and she grabbed the shaft, wrenching it free of the ground and battering it against the walls and ground, a stream of profanity erupting from her lips. "That dirty double-crossing two-timing _b-st-rd_!" she yelled, flinging the splintered remains of the stake across the cave. "That sawed-off spell-tosser told Gothos, Gothos told his halfbreed b-tch, she told papa, and _he_ sent Alust!" She stomped towards the secret door.

_Thwock!_






Di'Fier let himself drift back to the pavement as the two arrived in front of the Black Rose. His partner was still silently fuming, but she took a deep breath and turned to him.

"Remember, he's always got two more knives than you expect him to." She brushed a bit of dust from the sleeve of her new shirt, and pushed the door open. "Come on, let's get this over with."

As their eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the restaurant, Di'Fier glanced around. The Black Rose was a two-story affair, with a wide balcony ringing the tall central room. Quiet and efficient servers made their way between the tables, where well-dressed patrons ate.

In a table near the back was the person they had come to meet.  Reflexively, Di'Fier checked, but there seemed to be an unnerving lack of guards around. _Is he that confident?_ he thought as they approached the table - and only then did he see the other elf: tall and spare, with hair so pale it was nearly white. _And how in hell did I miss that?_

The man they had come to meet stood at their approach. "Drusilia," he smiled.

"Hello, Papa." Dru looked at the unfamiliar elf seated across from her father, and then gestured towards her partner by way of introduction. "This is Di'Fier."

"Watch-Lieutenant," Naïlo nodded in greeting. "Please, be seated."

As Di'Fier made his way around the table to the last open chair, Tensin changed from the Common tongue to the Elven one - and not everyday Elven, but the near-ritual tones of High Elven.

"_Drusilia of the family of Naïlo, daughter of my blood, may this man be known to you,_" Nailo recited formally. "_He is Enialis of the family of Galanodel._" He paused a moment, then continued:

"_Your intended husband._"






_She's taking it a lot better than I would have guessed,_ Di'fier thought to himself as he watched his partner eat.  Still, he'd never seen that look of stunned shock on her face before - not even their first night on the Dock beat, when the Cutthroats had ambushed them. Then again, he imagined he looked much the same...

Dru continued on, unaware of her partner's scrutiny. "...and at least the Sea Lord's not trying to kill us anymore."

Her father half-smiled. "I'm certain someone else will."

"I seem to bring that out in people."

Tensin's eyes flicked to the doorway. "It's inherited," he said dryly, as the doors burst open, and the peaceful quiet of the Black Rose was shattered by a small army of orc-blooded thugs.

"Naïlo!" one bellowed, knocking over a table with his halberd and sending the occupants scurrying for cover. "Freeport's had enough of you!" The object of his anger sighed, and took a sip of wine as the thugs charged.

Dru was on her feet in an instant, sword drawn, casually batting aside the blades of the thugs. She could hear the leader shouting at them over the din: "Not her, you idiots, the other one!" Behind her, Di'Fier saw a second group of thugs emerging from the kitchen. His _forceblast_ slammed them into the wall like a collection of ugly rag dolls, and the building shook from the impact. Crossbows thrummed from the balcony, and in an instant Galanodel was gone from his chair. Through it all, Naïlo considered his wine, as if unsure the vintage was the proper one to serve for an assassination attempt.

The Black Rose was utter chaos now, as patrons hid under stables or ran for the exits. An unfortunate crossbowman - or the mortal remains thereof - hurtled over the balcony, landing with a sickening crunch on the wooden floor. Dru dropped one of the thugs, but the others had made it around her and were surrounding her father.

The elf sighed, setting down the wineglass. Finally he stood, negligently tossing his napkin over his shoulder. The thug behind him stepped back with a surprised look on his face, and then slowly crumpled, clutching at the leaf-thin knife in his throat. Tensin Naïlo looked at the other would-be assassins, a blade held loosely in each hand.  His expression did not change as he stepped forward.






"This ain't over yet, Naïlo!" The implied threat was made all the less potent by the number of crumpled bodies left behind as the burly orcblood and his remaining troops made for the door. Dru kicked one of the ill-fated attackers over and bent to clean her blade on his shirt before sheathing it.

She turned back to the table, miraculously undisturbed in the midst of the carnage, and sat back down. For the first time that evening, a smile crossed her father's face as he joined her.  Di'Fier tipped his chair back up with his foot, and Galanodel resumed his place across from his superior as they all returned to their half-finished meals, alone in the restaurant.






Dusk settles over the city of Freeport, and the dimming of the light quiets the city, as it prepares for the months of rain ahead.  The harbor is near empty, for most captains would rather sail the mainland ports instead of wait out the rains - and with the ships go the crews, leaving the taverns and flophouses as empty as the harbor. For once, the city seems quiet, from Old City to Scurvytown, from the Temple District to the Docks.  

Then again, in Freeport, things are so rarely as they seem.

- Fin -


----------



## Vurt

_*Bravo!!!  Bravo!!!  *_   *claps hands until arms get sore*

-- Vurt


----------



## Jon Potter

*Truly great!*

I'm very impressed with your handling of Freeport and it's been loads of fun to read along.

I'm sorry to see that the ride has come to an end at last.

Now I can focus on Dru's story hour. If she ever writes more that is (hint hint).

I look forward to Book II: Brotherhood or is it Book II: Inheritance?

I hope you'll let us all know when the "DVD" version is complete. I'd love to give it another read through.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Truly great!*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *I'm very impressed with your handling of Freeport and it's been loads of fun to read along.
> 
> I'm sorry to see that the ride has come to an end at last. *




Well. Only kind of - like you said, there's always Book II: Inheritance. I can't give too much away (since we haven't even started playing) but I thought I'd mention that one or two more of the Create-a-Cohort characters will be showing up. (Hopefully they'll fare better than poor Paden!)

Other than that, Book II will tear the city apart and send our heroes farther away from Freeport than they've ever gone before (which, admittedly, isn't saying much). It will also contain a higher proportion of original adventures than Book I, partially because I don't have the trilogy to lean on anymore...



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *I hope you'll let us all know when the "DVD" version is complete. I'd love to give it another read through. *




Oh, I plan to! Otherwise I'd have spent a lot of time working on it for nothing.  Work is proceeding well, though - I'm learning about style sheets while still trying to keep it looking good even if you don't (or can't) use them. (As a long-time Lynx user, I feel vaguely guilty for even using frames.)

Anyway, I'd *like* to get it done before I start posting Book II, because then I can include a 'sneak preview'...


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## Zarthon

*Well Done!* 

It's been really great, thanks for the stories doc.


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## drnuncheon

Ahem.

(points at .sig)

No more here. Go there.

J


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