# drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour - Book II: Inheritance



## drnuncheon

Rain pounded like hammers on the city of Freeport - a battering, ceaseless rain that seemed determined to drown the city, to break it apart and wash it into the sea.  In this, it was doomed to failure, as it had been for hundreds of years before.  But still it tried.

The rain poured itself in endless sheets on the earthen streets of Drac's End, turning them into a morass of mud and mire that sucked and grasped at the boots of a group of slumming young fops...and the armed men that followed them unseen.

It doused the cobbled byways and alleys of the Old City, washing away the evidence of sin: a faint trickle of red making its way to the rushing sewers. At the source, water splashed and pooled in an empty place that once held a heart.

And on the docks, it soaked five men to the skin.  Four, huddled and miserable, pulled oiled cloaks tighter around them, trying to scavenge warmth if not dryness.  The fifth walked through the rain as if it were nothing.







Inside the dusty confines of a warehouse, the sound of the rain was muted almost to silence.  Lanterns, barely burning, cast long shadows as another group of men unload a wagon.  One glanced repeatedly towards the ceiling.

"Arjis, what the hell is wrong wth you?"

"Sorry, boss.  It's just...the last time we was here..."

"Yeah, yeah. You got nothin' to worry about.  They made the crazy elf b-tch a detective...she ain't workin' the docks anymore.  And nobody's investigating us, we got that from our inside source."

"I know, but..."

Arjis' sentence was never finished.  As he opened his mouth to continue, the heavy wooden doors of the warehouse exploded into splinters. Jagged wooden shrapnel felled three of the smugglers, sending them spinning to the floor.

Five men stepped in from the rain, hooded and cloaked. The tallest, in the center, let his gaze sweep over the stunned smugglers, then nodded almost imperceptibly beneath his hood.

The warehouse erupted into motion, as the smugglers dove for their weapons, but the five men moved slowly, unhurried.  Almost in unison, the oiled cloaks fell open, hands twisted into arcane gestures, and the air was filled with the sounds of an alien tongue.

Arjis had just enough time to scream, and then the world was fire.


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## drnuncheon

Based on my current rate of rewriting the first 5 episodes of Book I, I should be done sometime around the time George Lucas finishes the third Star Wars trilogy.  So, rather than drag everything out, I thought I'd post a little bit of a 'teaser' here for Book II.

We will begin playing next Friday, if all goes as planned.

Two rainy, windswept months have passed since the events that lead to the deaths or disappearances of a quarter of the Captain's Council - including the Sea Lord himself. The city has been in a state of chaos, left without a leader, and the Council has been fighting to keep it under control.  Various claimants to the Sea Lord's mantle have come forth, but as of yet none have been proven descendants of the Drac line.

Oddly enough, all of this matters little to the direct cause of the chaos.  Dru and Di'Fier have some rather significant problems of their own...

J


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## Boss

*YAY!!!!!*

All right!  DrNuncheon is back with a vengeance.  I read three people's story's religiously - Piratecat, Sagiro, and DrNuncheon.  Glad to see that Book 2 is ready to kick off!

Heh, a group of badass wizards (or sorcerers) already.  Great prelude!


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## Jon Potter

*SWE-E-E-E-T!!!*

I was perhaps more excited than I should admit to see an update message appear in my In Box!

I was doubly excitied to see that there's a new thread.

Based on hints you've dropped, I can guess who those cloaked figures are and all I can say is: those poor smugglers.


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## drnuncheon

*Re: SWE-E-E-E-T!!!*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *I was perhaps more excited than I should admit to see an update message appear in my In Box!
> 
> I was doubly excitied to see that there's a new thread.
> 
> Based on hints you've dropped, I can guess who those cloaked figures are and all I can say is: those poor smugglers. *




Email me, I'm curious to see if your guess is right. 

J


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## Krellic

Just when I was feeling like something really seedy, Freeport comes swaggering back to centre stage.  I'm really looking forward to seeing how you continue the adventures of our heroes!

Welcome back!


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## Zarthon

Don't those guys learn? 

Great start!!!


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## Zarthon

I just cannot bare to see this story on page 2


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## Horacio

Horacio has arrived 

BUMP!


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## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Horacio has arrived
> 
> BUMP! *




Hey Horacio, good to see you back. Hope you enjoyed all the cliffhangers you missed. 8) Er, and your vacation too!  

Going back over some stuff, something Jon said finally registered and I want to clear up the fact that the first session is *next* Friday.  This past Friday we finished (for now) Dru's game. Every time I thought we had it all figured out there was another twist! Poor Aelric's mind is all knotted now - he was definitely turning 'palanoid' for a while.  But he got to show an anti-paladin that age and experience overcome youth and speed. 

Anyway, I'll try to put up another teaser sometime this week.

J


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## Jon Potter

*Cool!*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Anyway, I'll try to put up another teaser sometime this week.
> 
> J *




And see if you can't convince Dru to post an update to her story hour as well.


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## Horacio

*Re: Cool!*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> And see if you can't convince Dru to post an update to her story hour as well. *




I did it 
Now she has updated...


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## drnuncheon

*Prologue, Part II*

It had been a nice nap, but it was time to wake up.  The creature known as Delithrawien stirred in her lair, eyes opening just a slit.  Muscles moved under her skin as she stretched, lifting herself off of the cool stone that had served as her bed.  Delithrawien raised herself majestically to her feet, and surveyed her domain.  Something had awakened her...ah yes, the sound of footsteps.  Men were coming, which was good.  Delithrawien was hungry.  

She watched them enter, unaware of her presence.  The first to come smelled of sweat and stone. Plates of metal wrapped his legs, but his dusky, broad feet were bare, and slapped the stone like hammers. The voice that accompanied them was a _basso profundo_ rumble like a distant rockslide.  "Good. Nobody here," it said.

Next came two pairs of boots: one with solid footsteps - although not so solid as the ones they followed - accompanied by the jingling of chain, the other light and near silent, like Delithrawien's own. A second voice spoke, a female this time, but still low. "All right. I've got the layout of the place from Reed, and a map of the surrounding streets. Ashrem?"

The voice that answered was clear and precise, with just a hint of an accent - the musical voice of an elf. "They've been holed up in there for three hours with...with their hostage, so they'll have had plenty of time to set up defenses. The windows are all covered, of course, so we've got no way of knowing what's going on inside."

Delithrawien's eyes narrowed. They were all _ignoring_ her.

More footsteps sounded from the corridor, hesitant and uncertain.  "...don't like this.  I don't like this at all," said their owner.

"I don' like it either, Jemis," agreed the first voice. More footsteps -  rapid and light, like running prey - underscored the words.

Delithrawien crept forward. She would teach them to ignore her!

The running footsteps came closer, a pair of tiny legs pumping for all they were worth - and then four pillars of wood slammed to the stone in front of Delithrawien's face, and the legs vanished upward with barely a pause. She leapt back in surprise, bumping into the boots of the elf. From above her, a chuckle, and then she was lifted into the air.

"I think this is yours, Glunnyn?" The elf deposited Delithrawien on top of the table with a grin. Ears back, she growled, deep in her chest, and started to slink away.

The tiny wizard leaned across the table from his perch on the tall stool, dragging his familiar to him. "So _that's_ where you got to," he said, stroking her long fur absently.

Delithrawien pffed. Now her coat was mussed, and she'd need to spend the afternoon grooming.  She ignored the babblings of her wizard, as she usually did - he thought there was something important about the piece of paper, but wizards were notoriously poor judges of both priority and propriety.  On the other hand, they were handy for doing the work that only opposable thumbs could accomplish...

"Remember, everyone." It was the woman. "We have to treat this just like any other operation...even if it is Captain Donnach that they've got in there."  The room was silent for a moment.

"Not Captain Donnach I'm worried about," muttered the one called Jemis.  Nobody commented, but all seemed to silently agree.

Finally, the woman spoke. "All right. Let's go."

The five filed out of the room and disappeared down the hall.  Delithrawien stared after them.  There was something horribly wrong.

_None_ of them had stopped to feed her.


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## Jon Potter

*Fabulous*

You've baited the hook admirably.

I'm ready to hear more.

Hurry up and PLAY already!


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## paulewaug

LOL

Excellent!
best familiar ever!


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## drnuncheon

paulewaug said:
			
		

> *Excellent!
> best familiar ever! *




Thank you. (And welcome to the Story Hour!)

Both of my 'test subjects' for that bit were convinced that lil' Del was a big dragon...until she got picked up.  I kept wondering if anyone would notice that all she seemed to see of people were feet and voices...I guess it just goes to show you how cats think of themselves.

2 days and counting...

J


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## Jon Potter

*Make that three*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> Both of my 'test subjects' for that bit were convinced that lil' Del was a big dragon...until she got picked up.  J *




I thought exactly the same thing as I was reading it.

Very well done.


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## Boss

I love it.  Go back and read it again and it takes on an entirely different tone.  When I first read it, it was a menacing, dangerous creature (for some reason I was thinking a Naga at first, guess because of the previous books Serpentmen), but, reading it a second time, and it is amusing to see how there is nothing menacing in there at all.

BRAVO!


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## Horacio

I also thought it was a dragon...

Great update, of course!


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## Thorntangle

Fantastic update! The familiar piece was very nicely written. I just got caught back up and I can't wait to read more.


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## drnuncheon

*Session One, Part One: The Hostage*

The house was in the Merchant's Quarter, and even in the current downpour it had attracted a number of watchers - both on the street, and peering across from other buildings along the way.  After all, the last event of note at the place had been the bloody murder of the owner, one of the city's most powerful Councilors, and a man who had yet to be replaced.

Planks had been laid across the street, propped at waist height, to block off access, and the scattered Watchmen assigned to them eyed the onlookers warily, as a hunter might watch a jungle cat pacing nearby.

Watch-Sergeant Jaffar scanned the crowds until his eyes fell on the tiny knot of people breaking their way through the masses. _There they are,_ he thought to himself, _and about damn time._ "Let 'em through," he rasped, almost inaudible over the rain. "Stand aside."

Then again, the group seemed to be doing just fine breaking through the crowd on their own, due in no small part to the man in front - if indeed man he was. Standing closer to seven feet than six, with angular features and a grey cast to his skin, the man shouldered aside the onlookers easily, opening a path for his companions behind him. One look at the oversized maul propped easily on one shoulder was enough to convince the average person that objecting to the man's choice of path was not the best road to continued health.

Behind him and to the right strode a woman who, if less imposing physically, nevertheless exuded a force of presence that nearly equalled the big man's stature. The forest-green cloak covering her was held by a silver pin with the seal of the city, and as she walked the oilcloth parted to reveal the glint of armor beneath.

Flanking the big man on the other side was a wiry and muscular elf, his hood thrown back to let the wind and rain blow into his face.  An oiled case hung over one shoulder, and unlike his companions, he was grinning as he walked.

After them trailed a fourth - a small, skinny man clutching his wet cloak around him and looking distinctly unhappy about the entire situation, from rain to his company to what they were about to do.  He kept his eyes on the ground, and from time to time tugged his hood up farther, as if to keep his face from showing.

The small group reached the makeshift barricade, and Jaffar picked up one end of the plank.  Before he could wave them through, a small figure emerged from the crowd and trotted under the barricade without breaking stride. The shock of carroty hair atop his head had been plastered to his scalp by the downpour, but before Jaffar could object, he thrust out a hand carrying a glittering silver badge and continued on his way.

"He's with us," the woman said. "Watch-Sergeant Katya Lukin, Special Crimes Unit."

"Glad to see you," Jaffar whispered. "Even gladder to know it won't be _us_ going in there."

The other three moved past the barricade as the auburn-haired woman nodded. "Just the one hostage? Have they made any demands yet?"

Jaffar glanced back at the house, and spat into a puddle before he answered.  "Yeah, just the Captain.  They nailed their demands to the door, but we left 'em there. Figured you'd want to inspect everything first."

She nodded, but her enormous companion had already walked up to the door and torn the paper from it.  Bending over to shield it from the rain, he splashed back across the street to where the others were assembling, on a dry porch with a view of the front of the house.

"Looks like Quooral got it," she observed. "We'd better go see what they want."

Jaffar nodded, and turned back to the crowds, one hand still resting on the hilt of his sword.







A thick, blunt finger stabbed at the page. "What's this little squiggle here?"

The gnome stretched in a vain attempt to see the page. "Be careful! It might be..."

"Looks like a snake."

"...a trap."  But it was already too late.  Rising up from the page and rearing its hooded head was a dun-colored cobra. Hissing once, it lunged forward to bite the bald man - and then burst into a shimmering cloud of particles which enveloped him and constricted around him, fixing him in place like a piece of statuary.

"Oh, dear," sighed the gnome. "This is not a good start."  With that, he rolled up his sleeves and got to work.






Four of the five - all but the gnome - reassembled on the porch they had chosen as a staging area.  Katya looked over the others. "Where's Glunnyn?"

Quooral ran an embarrassed hand over his shaven head. "After he got rid of the magic trap, he went to try to figure out where the captain is."

"Here he comes now," said the skinny man, as the gnome trotted up out of the rain.

"Glunnyn, what have you got?"

The little wizard beamed as he wiped rain from his face. "Well, the problem was not a difficult one. Although I am as yet unable to divine a location based upon the anthropic signature of the Captain, it was simple enough to deduce that certain appurtenances of his office were no doubt in a contiguous location to his person - so by a simple exercise of triangulation I was able to ascertain their location and thus the probable point of imprisonment of the Captain."

Jemis - the skinny man - stared bewildered at the diviner, then turned to Quooral. "What did he just say?"

The big man merely shrugged.

Glunnyn sighed. "I located his badge. He's on the second floor, towards the front of the house."

The elf spoke up for the first time. "That would be the study," he said.  He had stripped the oilcloth from his bow and strung it, testing the pull as he eyed the barred and curtained windows above.

Katya nodded. "All right.  Glunnyn, take a look, tell me what you see.  Ashrem, check those second-floor windows. Jemis, take a look at the front door - Quooral, go with him."  She hesitated a moment, then added: "And be careful. Those two know the Watch inside and out.  They'll be expecting us."


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## drnuncheon

*Dedication/The Fine Print*

To Boss, Dust, Horacio, Krellic, Lazybones, Paka, Jon Potter, Nelson Rodriguez, Thorntangle, Vurt, Zarthon, and all the others who posted or mailed (but whose words were lost when trimming the thread): Your encouragement and feedback kept me going through Book One, so this one's for you.


Quooral Stonecypher appears courtesy of Jon Potter - thanks again, Jon!  Everyone else is my fault. drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour is filmed on location in the city of Freeport. Names have not been changed because they're all guilty anyway.

J


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## Vurt

Well I for one am hooked again!  Looking forward to your next installment, Doc, this is great!  "What's this squiggle?" indeed... heh...


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## gamecat

*pardon the hijack*

Vurt, did you take your name from the same book as I?


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## Vurt

Looks like!  Now we just have to wait for The Thing from Outer Space to show up... *GRIN*


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## gamecat

dammit that was the best book I ever read! It would be cool to run a vurt-inspired D20 modern game... I'd love to run a Vurtshadman...


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## Vurt

Improvise, gamecat!  Imagine: your adventuring group starts finding strange, multi-coloured feathers in a town where some of the members are behaving strangely.  On a dare the half-orc barbarian licks one and finds himself in some mad sorcerer's demented pocket-plane, and what is that THING! where the party's elf wizard was standing?!?

But yeah, I have to agree: Jeff Noon rocks!


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## drnuncheon

*Special Bonus (Art)*

I finally scanned in a sketch of Di'Fier that John (his player) drew sometime back near the beginning of Book One.  It may even have been before we played - he's carrying a spear, which has never actually appeared in the Story Hour.

I'll be adding some more sketches by all three of us at some point in the future, so keep watching.

J


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## paulewaug

Yay!! 
Another update!
excellent, thank you~

I like the addition of the *Note*  graphic to the story
extra eye-candy is always nice!
The sketch is nice also.

Well what is 'standard issue' for the Watch?
Club, Shortsword, Spear?  
That must have been a 'picture' from back when Di'Fier was in basic training/the academy.

Do you guys play with minis?  Maybe some pics of those some time would be nice...


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## Horacio

He has dedicated Book II to me   

Thanks! 

BTW, great update


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## drnuncheon

paulewaug said:
			
		

> *I like the addition of the Note  graphic to the story
> extra eye-candy is always nice!
> The sketch is nice also.
> *




Expect a little more 'eye candy' along these lines in this book - for some reason I never got to it in the last one, but I'm going to try to be better about it this time around. There's some puzzles I'll put up for you guys to solve when Dru and Di'Fier get them, too. (drnuncheon's Interactive Story Hour for Kids!)



			
				paulewaug said:
			
		

> *Well what is 'standard issue' for the Watch?
> Club, Shortsword, Spear?
> That must have been a 'picture' from back when Di'Fier was in basic training/the academy.
> *




The answer to that question is back in Book One, somewhere around the time I changed over to 'story' mode. (<- cheap ploy to get more hits) And 'the academy' for the City Watch mostly consists of 'here's your badge, there's your partner, try not to get killed' - but yeah, I think it's a DF very new to the job.  You can see that he's been warned by his father about the 'Freeport Noose' though.



			
				paulewaug said:
			
		

> *Do you guys play with minis?  Maybe some pics of those some time would be nice... *




Actually, we use (plug time - I should get paid) a Crystal Caste battlemat and the absolutely wonderful Counter Collections from Fiery Dragon.  I'm too cheap to buy minis for all the different people they face and too busy to paint them, so the pre-made counters really appeal. Plus, Claudio's a much better artist than I am.  Maybe if I get masochistic I'll put up the counters I started to make that conviced me I needed to drop the money on the FDP ones.

I'd love to scan in the counters we use but Claudio and FDP might get a touch upset that I was distributing their copyrighted artwork across the net. 

Anyway, I promised myself that I'd post an update when we recovered from the hijack, so here it comes...

J


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## drnuncheon

*Session One, Part Two: The Perpetrators*

In the house that had once been Councilor Verlaine's, delicate strands of magic coalesced, shaping themselves into an unseen eye.  Slowly it turned, inspecting the room it found itself in.

The room was once a lushly furnished study, although little remained of that now.  The furniture had been sold by the city government, just as the house was scheduled to be, and the only sign that remained were patches of wall that were slightly lighter in color where they had been covered.  The rug on the floor had been left for the next owner to dispose of - probably due to the enormous scorch mark covering half of it.

Standing in the room were two figures: man and woman, human and elf respectively. The man was unarmored, but with a large sword strapped across his back.  His face was haggard and unshaven, and a crude patch covered his left eye. The elf was equally rough-looking - her hair looked as if it had been roughly hacked with a dagger, and then left to grow for a few months.  A thin white line ran down the right side of her face, and an intricate web of scars laced her forearms.  A rapier hung low on her left hip, and over her shoulder was slung a quiver and bow.

Glunnyn knew them, of course. Everyone on the Watch knew them, and quite a few people outside as well.  After all, they'd shaken the city to its foundations when they exposed the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign.






"Naïlo's in the hallway," the gnome reported. "She drank a potion of _spider climb_ and she's on the ceiling.  Di'Fier is still in the room.  There's no sign of the Captain - he must be out of sight, in the closet."

Katya nodded, and took a breath, letting it out slowly.  Pulling up her hood, she crossed the road to where Jemis and Quooral were hunched over the door. "Any luck?"

Jemis shook his head. "The lock's too good."

"All right, we do it the old-fashioned way. Quooral...the ram."

The big man nodded, picking up the wide wooden beam easily. "Ashrem 'n' I got the bars off of one of the windows," he reported. "He's ready to go up when we go in."

Katya took up a place on the other side of the ram.  "Let's do it, then."






On the second floor, Di'Fier frowned.  He stuck his head out the door of the room and called to Dru. "Ampiel says that the gnome is still casting spells.  They're coming in two places at once - the front door, and somewhere around the back. Be careful."

The elf nodded from where she hung from the ceiling, and reached slowly into her pouch. The door shuddered under the impact of the ram, with a splintering sound - but it held.  And again. Again.

Di'Fier stepped into the hallway. "Time to give them some company, I guess." Placing a candle on the banister in front of him, he raised his hands and began to chant.  The candle sparked to life, and eldritch energy began to flow to the stairs below. The scent of brimstone hung heavy in the air. Below, the door bucked in its frame, twisting in a vain attempt to escape the punishment being wrought on its outer surface.

There was a tearing sound as reality was rent asunder below them, and a dark shape with eyes that burned a hellish green crawled forward from the rift. The long, naked tail twitched as it rose onto its hind feet to sniff the air, and then crawled forward towards the door.

Without pause, Di'Fier uttered the keyword to another spell, and his face shimmered and changed. His body expanded, his hair lightened, and in an instant he had been replaced by a duplicate of Donnach.

The door gave way, flying back into the hallway, and an instant later, the massive form of Quooral followed it. The massive head of his hammer arced through the air, slamming into the summoned hell-rat. The creature burst from the impact, spraying the genasi and the walls with the black ichor it used for blood.

Suddenly, the hammer-wielding watchman was coated in a thick, gluey substance, binding him to the floor. Katya and Jemis dodged around his once again immobile form and headed for the stairs as Dru scuttled away along the ceiling.  As she pounded up the stairs, Katya looked at the figure standing in the hallway - and hesitated. "Captain?"

Jemis saw, too - but there was something wrong. The Captain didn't wear his sword over the shoulder..."It's not him! It's Di'Fier!" 

At the warning shout, the false Captain dove back into the study, followed closely by Dru.  Katya and Jemis rounded the corner as Ashrem emerged from the master bedroom, and the three heard a whispered voice. "_Be careful, he's gone invisible._"  A moment later, it spoke again. "_They've got the captain out - Dru's got her blade at his throat._"

Katya nodded as they encircled the door, and whispered: "_Got it. Get in here, Glunnyn, we might need your counterspells._" She looked at the others. "All right. You know what we've got to do. The Captain's always said that we can't give in to hostage takers - but we're going to bring him out alive." Footsteps on the stairs announced the approach of Glunnyn - and Quooral, still trailing streamers of sticky goo.  "I'll go in first and make her let him go. The rest of you follow me."

The auburn-haired woman stepped through the door, her empty hands held high.  Donnach was bound and gagged, and Dru had laid her blade across his throat.

The elf's eyes narrowed as Katya entered, and she spoke each word with low menace. "Where's. My. Father?"

The other woman's smile was disarming. "We're doing everything we can...but right now I want you to *release* Donnach." As she spoke, the amulet in her hand fell into sight - a golden wheel made of bound stalks of grain - and in that instant, her voice was the voice of a god. Drusilia Naïlo stepped away from Donnach and lowered her sword, and Katya turned to the door.

Just as it slammed firmly closed and latched.


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## drnuncheon

*DM's Notes*

Poor Quooral. The guy just can't get a break.  First he flubs his Reflex save (no surprise there) and ends up hit by the _sepia snake sigil_, then his door-opening rolls start to tank.  Even the _bull's strength_ that Katya put on him only gave him 2 points.  And when he finally did get through the door, he gets glued to the floor.

Jon, I don't know why, but the characters you sent me have the worst luck.  It must have all leaked out around the edges of the e-mail.  At least Quooral's alive...for now, anyway.






Since we've got another cleric around, I might as well share a bit of information about how religion works in this world, aka "How to turn laziness into a virtue."

As you might have guessed, the gods represent archetypes or concepts - Knowledge, Strength, Retribution.  In fact, that is how they are usually referred to by lay people, although occasionally a god will have an epithet that is used instead. 'Temple of Knowledge', for example, is a direct and literal translation from the Common.

The true names of the deities are known only to their priests.  In fact, most _priests_ don't even know the full true names of their deities - knowledge is power, and there is power in names.  The domain abilities and spells stem from the priest's knowledge of the deities name, imparted piecemeal through gnostic revelations as the cleric increases in level.

Katya is an interesting case. Her holy symbol - the sheaves of grain bound into a wheel - might lead one to assume she serves some kind of harvest goddess or Earth mother, but nothing could be farther from the truth. The Wheel is the Wheel of Fate: a perfect circle representing the fixed path of destiny and the endless cycles of the ages. Most priests of the faith bear only the wheel, and look upon fate and destiny as fixed things.

A small sect, however, has splintered off from (and been declared heretical by) the main body of the church.  They view Fate as 'karma' - and take an active hand in enforcing it.  The sheaves are a reminder of a saying that is roughly equivalent to: "whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap".

It is worth noting that these 'heretical' priests receive the gnostic visions the same as their more accepted brethren. Theologists have long debated the point, and Fate himself is silent on the issue.

(See how cleverly I avoided having to name the gods? Laziness as a virtue.)

J


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## Jon Potter

*Re: DM's Notes*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Jon, I don't know why, but the characters you sent me have the worst luck.  It must have all leaked out around the edges of the e-mail.  At least Quooral's alive...for now, anyway.
> 
> J *




Perhaps I should have Min/Maxed them a little more. ;-)


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## Krellic

Some characters are just doomed from the outset, to humiliation if not outright death.

Freeport is cooking again and  all is right with the world...


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## Boss

Hey Doc, can we still submit character ideas to you?  And if so, can we use some of the prestige classes from Swashbuckling Adventures?  Heh, the rules need some help, and there were a lot of editing mistakes, but the prestige classes for all the various sword schools are great!  I can see Freeport and Theah melding together easily.

BTW, I personally love the new banner, very well done!


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## drnuncheon

Boss said:
			
		

> *Hey Doc, can we still submit character ideas to you?  And if so, can we use some of the prestige classes from Swashbuckling Adventures?  Heh, the rules need some help, and there were a lot of editing mistakes, but the prestige classes for all the various sword schools are great!  I can see Freeport and Theah melding together easily.
> 
> BTW, I personally love the new banner, very well done! *




I'll always take NPCs, but if you use anything from SA you need to send me the book too, cos I don't have it.  I've toyed with the idea of picking it up once I'm gainfully employed again, but the constant reference to the editing problems and shoddy rules makes me kind of wary. I can make decent rules on my own for free...

Anyway, I think I'm OK on cohorts for now, but there are a few other areas I need to fill in, like the underworld (Finn's gang and the Naïlo organization, for example).  Drop me a line and I'll let you know more.

Thanks on the banner - it's all part of my push for 'more eye candy'.  I hope people realize that it's a poor man's image map, and the Book One and Book Two areas are actually links, but I couldn't think of a way to make it more obvious while still making it look nice.

J


----------



## Zarthon

Great update as always doc.

I like the "eye candy"


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session One, Part Three: Last Stand*

"_Sh-t!_" Jemis screamed. "Quooral - _get it open!_"

The huge man put his shoulder to the door, and shoved.  Somehow, the thin wood resisted his advance, and a strange expression crossed his face, as if he didn't understand why his luck was so terrible today. From behind the door, they could hear Katya cry out - and then the door flew open.

Captain Donnach - no, Di'Fier - stood there, blade in his hands.  The sword whistled through the air as it slammed into Quooral's ribs, rebounding harmlessly from his armor. The genasi brought his hammer up across his chest to catch the next blow, and began to lumber forward, forcing the smaller swordsman back into the room. Ashrem and Jemis dove through the door behind him, and the elf sent an arrow towards Dru that her buckler deflected from the air.

Dru shook her head, and reached forward, grabbing the Captain again and pulling back with her sword. Katya was doubled over, one arm wrapped across her stomach, but still she straightened enough to raise the hand holding her amulet. A single word and a gesture at Donnach, and as Dru's blow landed, the priestess staggered as her magic enabled her to take part of the wound. She folded to one knee, and gasped out, "Quooral..."

The big man whirled his hammer, bringing it down onto Di'Fier's blade and snapping it two inches from the hilt. The startled kidnapper barely managed to get out of the way as his opponent stepped forward again.

Dru raised her sword for another blow to the helpless Captain - when a scream of half rage, half panic distracted her.  Looking up, she saw the slight form of Jemis hurtling into the room, diving between her and Katya...and what was that he'd thrown? The leather bag burst open as it hit her, and thick ropes of goo expanded, sticking to the floor, her blade, her body.  As she struggled with the hardening substance, she saw Katya pull the Captain away. "Di'Fier!" she shouted. "Get the hell out of here!"

"Better surrender," Quooral told his opponent. "Don't run." 

Di'Fier looked at the massive genasi - and Ashrem, who had drawn his blade.  The odds were lousy, and with Dru caught, they weren't going to get any better. He flung the useless sword-hilt at the elf and dove for the door.

Quooral's hammer whistled through the air, clipping him across the back and sending him staggering out into the hall. He slammed into the banister, pushed himself upright, and took a step...

...right into the scintillating burst of color from Glunnyn's wand.  Something in the display short-circuited his brain - he wanted to run, but the colors swam in front of his eyes, and he wasn't sure where his legs were anymore.  He couldn't feel them.

On the other hand, he felt Quooral's hammer impacting the back of his skull just fine.

Ashrem looked into the hallway at the crumpled form, and placed his sword-point carefully at Dru's throat. "It's over," he said simply.

Dru closed her eyes and bowed her head, letting the dagger she'd been using to cut her way free drop to the floor.


----------



## Thorntangle

I just got caught back  up on the story hour after a brief hiatus and Dru and Di'fier are holding the captain hostage? I know I must have missed something. Can someone lend a brotha a clue?


----------



## Vurt

Nope, Thorntangle, that's the hook: WTF is going on???

What I want to know is whether or not the Captain is a _willing_ hostage...

Love the eye-candy, Doc.  It's probably just me, but I always imagined the Watch predominantly in leather.  Maybe just a Mad Max/Bronze reflex, though.  Better suited to chasing folks than metal.  But, ah... if I could make a small request: more skin!  This is fantasy, after all, and if you're including pictures, well...


----------



## Hammerhead

The question is: why are Dru and Di'Fier holding Donnach hostage. It doesn't make sense, really. As Watchmen, they should know that A)Their demands are unreasonable, and B) the Watch does not negotiate. As such, I've thought of a couple of possibilities.

1. Dru and Di'Fier are either crazy.

2. Dru and Di'Fier have no other options to secure the release of Tensin Nailo.

3. It's only a drill.

4. Dru and Di'Fier are trying to get caught.

5. It's not Dru and Di'Fier

Still, I have to tip my hat to the master of the cliffhanger, leaving us not with an uncertain "What," but an uncertain "Why?"


----------



## Boss

My first thought is that this is a simulation.  I mean, who better to be unorthodox than Dru and Di'Fier, and you want unorthodox to better train your hostage rescue teams.  But, at the same time:



> The elf's eyes narrowed as Katya entered, and she spoke each word with low menace. "Where's. My. Father?"




And the fact that the reply was that they were doing everything they could says to me that either A) he has disappeared and the watch decided to do nothing to help find him, or B) the captain has been bought off by Dru's father, and and they either using the kidnapping as a way to force her father's hand, or they grabbed the captain for a "talk" and got caught up in it.

Waiting (im)patiently to see what happens next...


----------



## Jon Potter

*Wow!*

It's very strange to see D & D get their butts handed to them. No thrilling last minute table-turning this time.

Very entertaining! Nice work, drnuncheon!

And it's also nice to see that Quooral is good at something, even if doors aren't his forté.


----------



## Krellic

Nice eye candy, better story...


----------



## Evil Josef

I must say that the Freeport version of a SWAT team is more than entertaining.


----------



## drnuncheon

We were all beginning to wonder if everybody had missed the fact that Dru and Di'Fier were on the wrong side of the law - nobody was saying a darn thing about it!

Boss, take a look at the list of demands - the release of Tensin Naïlo was first on the list.  Katya's reply was nothing more than a bald-faced lie used to keep Dru from offing the Captain until she could use her _command_ spell.

Hammerhead: Yeah, the demands were unreasonable. A bargaining tactic, perhaps? Would they have been satisfied with Tensin and the horses? Probably.

Vurt: Official Watch-issue armor is indeed boiled leather (_cuir-bouilli_).  Those watchmen who can afford it often buy something a bit more protective - a chain shirt, for example.  Quooral is the heaviest armored Watchman so far, with a breastplate. (I altered his equipment a bit, Jon...)

As for 'more skin', I'll let Dru know you want to see her interesting collection of scars.  I've already put in the request for cheesecake pictures of Dru and Di'Fier (from the old poll), but so far nothing's materialized, and I will only embarass myself by drawing faces.

Speaking of which, I scanned a couple more pictures in - these ones are completely my fault, so they're pretty rough - and there's now a quickie 'art gallery' at http://www.io.com/~jeffj/freeportart.html. More to come as the pictures materialize on my computer desk.

J


----------



## Boss

See what happens when you are at work reading quickly so your supervisor (I hate saying boss, think I'm talking to myself) doesn't catch you messing around... YOU DON'T READ THE IMPORTANT STUFF!!!!!!

Going back and reading it though... I like the inclusion of the Vanilla Beans.


----------



## paulewaug

ahhh...the plot thickens

tasty!!
Yeah Boss I know what you mean.  
I got more work done when I was allowed to read the story hour at work.

It's good for the brain!!!
Sparks creativity!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session One, Part Four: Familiar Places, Familiar Faces*

Dru nodded. "You're right. It's over." A half-smile crossed her face. "Now someone please untie poor Captain Donnach and get this crap off of me? Oh, and heal Di'Fier."

Ashrem grinned, and returned the padded blade to the loop on his belt. "I've got some solvent with our equipment. Looks like Quooral is going to need it, too."

Katya knelt by Di'Fier and pulled a short wand from her belt, waving it over him. The man's eyelids flickered, and he sat up, rubbing his head. "I'm glad you guys are on _our_ side," he began. "And I'm glad I'm not a criminal.  I'd make a _terrible_ criminal."

"Sorry about the head, sir," Quooral muttered, bending over to help Di'Fier up.

"It's OK, I'll be fine. I think next time we'll use double padding on that hammer of yours, though."

The genasi hesitated a moment, as uncertainty reigned on the broad plain of his face. "...did we pass?"

Dru laughed, peeling the remains of the tanglefoot bag out of her hair.  "We would have passed you even if Di'Fier had gotten away."

Quooral frowned. "But you always told us to never let the criminals get away..."

Di'Fier grinned. "What do you think, Captain?"

Donnach rubbed his wrists, and began untying the gag that now hung around his neck. "Well, they're your team, Di'Fier.  But I'll bet that you'll more than justify Lady Elise's support for this whole idea.  Good work, all of you."

Footsteps clumped up the hall. "Took you long enough," rasped Jaffar, looking around the room. "They got you, Dru? Jeez."

"Both of us, actually," said Di'Fier, still rubbing his head. "And not a casualty on their side, thanks to some good planning, good teamwork..."

"And plenty of luck," Jemis finally piped up.

"This work has a lot more luck in it than I care to think about," admitted Dru.

Jaffar rubbed at his moustache. "Well, sh-t. I just lost a bundle, then. Figured you'd take out three of 'em and then make your escape."

Donnach gave the Watchman a reproving glance, and turned to the rest of them. "All right, everyone. Let's head home and get some...what is it, Arinbjorn?"

The new arrival took a deep break and wiped the rain from his face. "Warehouse District, sir. Explosion - explosion_s_ in one of the warehouses. We have it cordoned off, but we need a detective to come look over it."

"No rest for the wicked," the Captain said. "Dru, Di'Fier - this sounds like just the kind of thing your unit was made for.  Check it out."







"Kiva, Davos, Kliege," Di'Fier greeted the guards waiting outside the warehouse. "What have we got?"

Davos grunted.

"It's pretty bad, Lertenant," Kliege filled in, pulling his hood forward to keep the rain off. "Looks like there was a bunch of people in there, and they weren't unloading the usual cargo, if you know what I mean."

Dru scowled up at the warehouse, as if she could intimidate the building into telling her what had happened. "We've been here before," she said, and Di'Fier nodded.

"When we busted the group smuggling _kantha_ leaves," he agreed. He glanced back over the rest of the group, and saw Jemis huddled in Quooral's shadow - whether it was to get some shelter from the rain and wind or to escape notice, he wasn't sure. He almost said something, but let it go.  "All right, let's have a look."

The stench hit them as they entered the doors. The humid air carried with it a stench of burnt flesh that hit like Quooral's hammer, staggering the Watchmen and weakening their knees. Overlaid on it was the sickly sweet smell of the burnt _kantha_. Dru pulled a handkerchief and held it over her mouth and nose. They wouldn't be able to remain here long.

The sight of the blackened corpses was too much for Jemis. He crumpled to his hands and knees, hunched over and spewing his dinner onto the packed earth of the floor.

"Jemis...why don't you wait outside. Quooral, Glunnyn, come with me," ordered Di'Fier. "Dru, we're going to check out their little escape tunnel in the back."

His partner nodded, then looked at the others. "Ashrem, make sure Jemis is all right. Katya, let's look at the victims."

If truth be told, there was not much left to look at. The fire had burned to the bone on most of them, leaving only brittle, carbonized ash where the flesh had once been. Several crates had been blasted open by the explosions, and the dried leaves inside still smouldered, giving off their toxic vapors.

Dru knelt by one of the corpses, more intact than the others, to look for any signs of identification. As she reached out to turn it over, she saw its chest twitch in a shuddering breath.

"Katya!" she snapped. "Looks like we have a survivor."






The priestess looked down at the man and shook her head. "I've done everything I can for him, but the spells I know can't replace what's been burned away.  Without powerful magic, he'll never see or speak again, and it's not likely that he'll even be able to walk."  She hesitated, and then turned towards Dru. "There was no way he could have survived on his own for that long. Someone stabilized him before we got here.  They _meant_ him to survive."

The other three Watchmen returned from their inspection of the warehouse. "The trapdoor was still buried under the crates," Di'Fier told her. "I don't think anyone got out that way."

Glunnyn wriggled to the front between Di'Fier and Quooral. "We also analyzed the distinctive patterns produced by the combustion and have ascertained not only that it was produced by a magical effect - which is certainly consistent with the other observed phenomena - but also identified the particular dweomer which was used."

The human mage nodded. "_Fireball_. Multiple castings simultaneously, which means we've got several powerful wizards on our hands." He looked down at the man Dru and Katya had been looking at. "What's this?"

"A survivor. I'm not sure whether he's the lucky one or not. He's in no shape to talk, though."

"A simple divination would enable me to align the memetic receptors of my own mind with..." Glunnyn trailed off as Dru held up her hand.

"I'm not interested in the theory, Glunnyn. Can you do it now?"

The gnome sniffed. "Of _course_."






_*What were you doing here?*_

i was unpacking crates the crates have the leaves and i will get paid for this i know it ain't legal but everyone said we would be okay this time but we werent the last time we had cops but this time it was the men in the cloaks and they burned the world oh god the fire the fire

_*How many of them were there?*_

there were one two three four of them and the big one in the center is five and fire and the boss was hit first and then the fire came for me

_*Who healed you?*_

it was black all black and the pain went away but now its back and i can't be healed because its still black and if i were healed it wouldn't hurt like this






Quooral and Katya carried the man out of the warehouse on a makeshift stretcher, with Dru and Di'Fier following. 

Jemis stiffened at the sight. The healing spells had regrown skin where they could, but the eyes were still empty sockets, and his teeth still showed through the hole that had been burned in his cheek.  Still, it was enough, and Jemis turned away to lean heavily against the wall again and fight to keep control of his stomach. 

"Oh gods...poor Arjis..."

_End of Session 1_


----------



## Jon Potter

*You tricky devil!*

Very nicely done.

I KNEW that Dru & Di'Fier wouldn't have turned criminal.

Yeah... SURE I did!



You had me fooled.


----------



## Boss

And yet more proof that you should always go with your first inclination.  Heh, Doc, I love how you make us (okay, me really) second-guess what is going on.

Are the members of the team NPC's, or did your player group expand?


----------



## drnuncheon

Glad I caught at least some of you. Gotta keep you on your toes for the rest of the book. (I know I will be...like I told Dru and Di'Fier, this may be the most complex plot I've run yet.)

Boss, they're all NPCs - and will appear in the Rogues Gallery soon, maybe to keep up the daily posting.  They'll take the place of the 'rotating gallery of cohorts' that showed up in Book One.  Since, well, most of the ones in Book One ended up slightly dead (moment of silence for the cohorts - lost but not forgotten).

Hopefully this batch has greater survivability...otherwise Dru and Di'Fier are going to start to get a reputation.

J
..._start_ to?


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> Quooral is the heaviest armored Watchman so far, with a breastplate. (I altered his equipment a bit, Jon...)
> J *




I sort of figured that you would. I was very light on the equipment with the NPC's I sent in, assuming that you would customize them as needed.



> *
> Speaking of which, I scanned a couple more pictures in - these ones are completely my fault, so they're pretty rough - and there's now a quickie 'art gallery' at http://www.io.com/~jeffj/freeportart.html. More to come as the pictures materialize on my computer desk.
> 
> J *




I like the picture of Quooral. He looks quite a bit different from the pict that I did of him. He looked a bit more like the villain Darksied (sp?) from the old Superman comics in my own headshot. Maybe I'll scan it in and attach it to an e-mail. If you're interested in seeing it, that is.


----------



## Zarthon

Boy, am I glad that Dru & Di'Fier did not turn bad 
now just who are these strange men in black?


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *I like the picture of Quooral. He looks quite a bit different from the pict that I did of him. He looked a bit more like the villain Darksied (sp?) from the old Superman comics in my own headshot. Maybe I'll scan it in and attach it to an e-mail. If you're interested in seeing it, that is. *




Please do! I'll stick it on the Freeport art page. If you've got one of Paden (pre-_wall of fire_, I hope) I'll put that one up as well. (And if anyone else cares to take a stab at any of the characters, I can only say 'have at it'! Turn down free artwork? Never!)

I always get Darkseid mixed up with Apokalyps, or however you spell it. (Isn't he a Marvel bad guy? Or is that where he's from? My comic knowledge is sorely out of date.)

J


----------



## Horacio

I wanted to post after the before to the last update, because I guessed it was a kinf of exercice, and I didn't wanted to spoil the surprise. And I was right!  I suppose this is the problem of reading too much story hours, sometimes you can almost predict what it will happen... 


Great great update! Book II looks really promising! 
More soon, please!

BTW, I've just begun my own Story Hour, using the new superheroes supplement from Natural 20, Four Color to Fantasy:
Golden Apple Rescue Squad 

If you have time, visit it, and drop a comment...


----------



## drnuncheon

Zarthon: (forgot to say this earlier) We've actually talked a lot about the characters, and Dru isn't likely to go bad as long as she's got Di'Fier around as a stabilizing influence. If something ever happened to him, though..._I_ certainly wouldn't want to be around Dru. 

Now consider the relative lifespans of elves and humans.


Horacio: I knew I wouldn't get _everybody_! But there isn't any more yet, I'm all caught up - you'll have to wait for us to play on Friday.  In the meantime, everyone can check out the Rogue's Gallery for a look at a cat (not a dragon) and her wizard.

J


----------



## DiFier

I can't wait for friday nite.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

I can't either! 

And Dru wouldn't go over to the dark side if Di'Fier died.  Well, not much anyway!


----------



## drnuncheon

Di'Fier: I guess I better go plan, huh?

Dru: I rest my case.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

Update over in the Rogue's Gallery - and game tonight, as soon as Di'Fier shows up! Who's behind the fireballing of the warehouse?  Why was one of the victims left deliberately alive? Where did these wizards come from? 

Their inquiries may lead to some answers...but they will almost surely raise still more questions.

Catch you all later this weekend!

J


----------



## Horacio

That was an Evil Teaser From DrNuncheon (TM)...


----------



## drnuncheon

*drnuncheon's Interactive Freeport Story Hour!*

The game went really well last night - a lot of investigation, as Dru and Di'Fier dug a bit deeper - and turned up a lot more than they were expecting.  It's too bad that they can't see how it all fits together...

Today you have a chance to figure out a piece of the puzzle yourself! During the events of the day, Dru and Di'Fier happened across a mysterious message. (By 'happened across' we mean plucked it from the corpse of a criminal, and 'mysterious message' we mean 'completely unreadable'.) It is written in no known alphabet, and Glunnyn tried _comprehend languages_ to no avail.

The most complete and accurate translation/interpretation will receive a guest appearance in drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour as an NPC!  (I'll contact you by e-mail to get the necessary details.) In cases of a tie, the first one received will be the winner.

The note can be viewed at http://www.io.com/~jeffj/note.gif.  Translations should be mailed to me at the address in my profile.

Happy puzzle-solving!

J

_Edit: a misplaced period broke the link! The puzzle is *not* to decipher the 404 error..._


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Good luck with the puzzle, all. Di'Fier and I were up until 1 AM, cracking the thing.  But... we did it!!!  We rock.  I was envisioning it taking us days.


----------



## Zarthon

Good teaser doc,

I have just emailed you my translation of the note.
What font (if it is one) did you use to write it?


----------



## Hammerhead

You cracked that thing? Good God! I wouldn't know where to begin.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Wow, that was fast...*

I've gotten two translations already, both of which were as accurate as could be expected given the circumstances. (Clearly I shall have to make it more difficult next time!) Everyone else can continue to send them in, but only for your own amusement.

The first prize of a guest appearance in the Story Hour goes to Jon Potter - great job, Jon! 

The runner-up, Zarthon, will receive a special unannounced bonus prize of...a messy, gruesome death!

I've emailed both of them about this, so look for some familiar faces in an upcoming session.

Dru and Di'Fier's translation will be provided...at the appropriate time in the Story Hour, of course.

J


----------



## paulewaug

I think you should change your name to "drfeelgood" 

Your Hooks keep getting better and my Addiction keeps growing!
I'm itching for another fix already!


----------



## Zarthon

Mmmm, is this sort of like a Tarrentino movie cameo?
Make sure you have guys with buckets hiding in the wings.


----------



## drnuncheon

Right, I've been neglectful in writing up Session 2.  But this isn't it, either.  Expect it on Monday - it's hard to write when Dru is around the house, I keep getting distracted.   Instead, here's a look at a Freeport locale...

*Sehanoarun's*

Sehanoarun's is a small restaurant, specializing in elven cuisine, that has operated in the Old City for over three hundred years.  It is an unassuming place located on one of the many side streets that thread their way through the southwest corner of that section of town.  Despite their advancing age, the restaurant is still run by its founders - Sehanoarun (TN Exp6, who actually handles most of the restaurant) and her husband Rinrellon (a CN Brd5, whose primary fame is as a painter).

The establishment is furnished with the sort of quiet elegance that is so dear to the elven heart - the floor and furniture is unstained, but fitted and polished in such a way as to display the natural beauty of the wood.  The staff are quiet and unobtrusive, preferring to let the meals be the center of attention.  

There are no menus at Sehanoarun's - the food to be served that day is chosen by Sehanoarun alone - but there are few who complain, especially after tasting the fare.  Much of the restaurant's business comes through word-of-mouth.  To the casual observer, it seems like a fairly unremarkable place - aside from the quality of the food, of course.

However, in Freeport, things are so rarely as they seem...

Nearly a century ago, the restaurant was in deep financial trouble. A competitor was using all of the influence he could to drive the restaurant out of business, from hiring thugs to harass the customers to attempting to purchase the property from the current owner.  The establishment was hanging on by the skin of its teeth when a young elf named Tensin Naïlo stepped in.

Three months later, Naïlo owned the property, the rent was lowered to a more than reasonable level, the thugs were being carried off to the crematorium, and the unscrupulous competitor behind the harassment had decided that his business would be far more appreciated in a different locale.  Unfortunately for him, he chose one of the ill-fated 'Libertyville' settlement attempts on Leeward Isle, and vanished along with all of the other colonists.

The restaurant is now a major meeting place for lower-level members of the Naïlo organization.  They can often be found relaxing in the main room, although meetings where 'business' is discussed occur only in the smaller private room in the back, behind closed doors.


----------



## Horacio

Please, if somebody from Green Ronin is reading this, hire DrNuncheon's services for a future Freeport supplement. You could call it _Colourful Locations From Freeport_. Please...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Two, Part One: An Unproductive Morning*

Dru and Di'Fier sat at their desk - space was tight in Watch headquarters - and awaited reports from their team.  To be completely accurate, Di'Fier sat at the desk, while Dru leaned against it with arms folded.

"Where _is_ everyone?" she complained.

Di'Fier sighed. He knew his partner would rather be out conduting the interrogations herself but...that was what they had a team for now, wasn't it? "With any luck, someone will report back in soon and we'll have a lead. In the meantime, we'll need to stay where they can find us."  He hesitated.  Something had been bothering him for a while now, but Dru was notoriously touchy on the subject.

"Dru...your father has people working for him that could cast that spell, doesn't he?"  It wasn't much of a question - more of a statement of fact.

"Yes."

Di'Fier took the lack of an armed response as encouragement, and pressed onwards. "Alust maybe...or that friend of Garto's?"

Dru snorted. "I don't think Alust is that good of a wizard. And for that matter, we know _Garto_ can cast _fireball_." Dru's hands unconsciously clenched and released. "I'd like to get my hands on that little sh-t..."

Di'Fier saw the warning signs and moved to head Dru off. "We don't know what happened. He might have been blackmailed or something...ah, Glunnyn - did you find anything?"

The gnome shook himself like a small dog, spraying water from the tiny oilskin cape he wore. Flipping the hood back and running a hand through his hair, he shook his head.  "I'm afraid not.  Very few spells use saltpetre and bat guano, and they're almost all destructive - so the shopkeepers tend to keep an eye out for it.  But none of them have sold those components in any quantities recently."

Di'Fier nodded.  "Looks like these guys are out-of-towners."

"Or they have their own bats," muttered Dru.







Dru eyed the skies carefully through the narrow window. "Looks like it's slacking off," she commented.

Her partner looked up from the report on the warehouse he was preparing. "And it's mid-morning. Maybe we should go pay that visit to Torsten Roth. See if he knows anything." He blew on the paper and set it aside to dry, grabbing his cloak and sword from the nearby stand. Ampiel fluttered and sidled away, and the wizard chuckled. "No, Ampiel, you don't have to go out in this. If anyone comes looking for us, tell them we've gone to talk to Torsten Roth."

"O-kay," the raven croaked.

Ten minutes in the rain-soaked streets brought them to Roth's house in the Merchant's Quarter.  Dru raised her hand and pounded on the door, and the two detectives huddled on the small porch as they waited for a response.

Eventually, the door creaked open, revealing an elderly man, immaculately attired in wig, ruffed shirt, and tailed coat.  He looked over the two cloaked figures on the porch with obvious distaste.  "Can I help you?"

Dru got straight to the point. "We need to talk to Torsten Roth. My partner and I are in charge of the investigation regarding certain events in the Warehouse District last night that occurred at a facility he owns."

"Does madame have a card?"

Dru looked as if she was about to tell the supercilious servant what he could do with his card when Di'Fier stepped in. "No card...just the message."

"I will so inform Mister Roth."

The door swung closed.

Di'Fier looked at his partner uncertainly. "Do you think we're supposed to wait?"

Dru glared at the door. "We're the ones trying to help _him_. He can find us when he's ready to talk.  In the meantime, we've got a couple other places to check.  You wanted to talk to the Wizard's Guild, and I need to get a message to Galanodel...or Papa."


----------



## Zarthon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Please, if somebody from Green Ronin is reading this, hire DrNuncheon's services for a future Freeport supplement. You could call it Colourful Locations From Freeport. Please... *




I second that!!!!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Two, Part Two: The Old City*

The door to Sehanoarun's opened, admitting a pair of cloaked and hooded figures - one tall, one far closer to the usual size of the clientele.  Business was slow at that hour of the morning, but still, the conversation dimmed as all eyes went to the newcomers.

One stood in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light, while the other strode confidently across the small room to one of the patrons, sitting alone at her table.

The elven woman looked up, and a slight smirk spread across her face. "_Why, officer,_" she said in her own language. "_Whatever could you want with me? I've done nothing wrong._" The subtly mocking tone of her voice belied her protestation of innocence.

"Save it for the magistrate," Dru snapped. The affected accent of the burglar grated on her, just as it always had. "I'm not here for you. I need to get a message to Galanodel or my father."

"_Well, I'm certain I don't know any such important people_," the elf said, her eyes drifting over to watch Di'Fier, who waited as unobtrusively as possible near the door. "_But if I ever do meet them, I'll be sure to let them know._" Her smile broadened as Dru spun on her heel and stalked out.






Dru stood in front of the Wizard's Guild, fuming, as if the sheer heat of her anger could turn the falling rain to steam before it ever reached her skin.  It didn't have any noticable effect on the rain, but it was not for lack of trying.

_I can't believe they won't let me in...just because I'm not a wizard,_ she raged to herself for the fifth time. _They're just lucky I know Di'Fier, otherwise I'd think they all had something to hide..._

She was interrupted by the arrival of a second figure - not her partner, as she expected, but Jemis.  She nodded curtly to the ex-smuggler, who moved under the eaves of the Guild building.

"What are you doing out in this?" she asked.

The small man shrugged. "Di'Fier said he wanted to talk to me, and th'crow said he was out here. I figured it was better than the guys back at headquarters all givin' me the hairy eyeball. What are you doing out here in the rain?"

Dru's lips pressed into a thin line. "Let me tell you something about wizards, Jemis..."






When Di'Fier emerged, Jemis gave an involuntary hop back. Dru was in fine form, and that was enough to make anybody jumpy - not that the taller Watchman noticed. "Jemis...I was just wondering. I had the strangest sense of _déjà vu_ last evening..."

Dru wound down her rant, and Jemis stared down at the rainpuddle around his feet. "Yeah. Me too," he admitted.

The elven Watchman stepped over to join them. "Has anyone else tried to kill you in your previous line of work?"  There was a long, uncomfortable pause, and she quickly added, "Besides us."

"Oh." Jemis did not look relieved. "No, that was the first time."

"Did you have permission to be there? From the owner of the warehouse?" As Jemis started to answer, Di'Fier held up a hand. "Not official permission, I know. But unofficial?"

"Well...the boss never seemed to be worried about guards or anything."

"What doesn't fit," mused Dru, "is that they were all the 'little guys'.  Why go to so much trouble to wipe them out?"

"Especially when they didn't even know who they were working for." Di'Fier verified his comment with a glance at Jemis. "Roth seemed to be pretty friendly with Tensin at the Sea Lord's ball. Jemis, you ever hear anything about that?" A quick negative from the ex-smuggler. "Maybe you should ask around.  But be careful."

The small man nodded, and headed off into the rain.

Dru scowled at the Wizard's Guild. "I hope you found out what you came for."

Di'Fier half-shrugged. "Well...I've got a list of the attendees at the Guild banquet - which means the names of those out-of-town wizards that visited.  I asked Glenfield about vigilante wizard's groups - he said there's rumors of one that polices the actions of wizards, but this doesn't sound like them."

By a wordless agreement born of years of partnership, the two began walking back towards the Watch building. "If it is a crime family, then...hmm.  It's not Finn's style, and neither the Cutthroats nor the Bucanneers have that kind of magical power.  Does your father have any branches out of the city?"

"No."

Di'Fier largely ignored the curt reply. "Still, there's that Galanodel...so he's got some kind of ties with organizations outside the city..."

The pair walked on in silence.


----------



## drnuncheon

Right. Sorry for the slow pace, but the last session was full of investigtion - so much so that there was very nearly nothing else!  Hopefully the deepening mystery is enough to keep everyone interested...

(especially my players...they're uncovering a lot of clues that they don't realize are clues...)

Next update: the return of the mysterious Echo...

J


----------



## Horacio

Wonderful udate, as usual!


----------



## Jon Potter

*Your point being?*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Right. Sorry for the slow pace, but the last session was full of investigation - so much so that there was very nearly nothing else!
> *




No complaints, here.

I don't read this for endless recounting of melee combat. Sure, I expect there to be some (especially with Dru around!) but sessions like this one don't diminish my enjoyment at all.

Keep up the good work. If it's fun for your players then chances are it'll be fun for we vicarious adventurers.


----------



## Krellic

We have faith that the pace will pick up, probably before the players are ready for it!


----------



## drnuncheon

Right. Don't know if I'll be able to update today, but as I am trying to put up _something_ every day, go take a look at the Rogue's Gallery to see the stats for Quooral Stonecypher.

J


----------



## Jon Potter

*Nicely done.*

I like the changes you made to Quooral's equipment.

And I wonder who it could be that got him fired from Crocker's? 

Did that ever come up in-game?


----------



## drnuncheon

Not really. Dru told him what happened and Di'Fier looked vaguely embarassed, but Quooral allowed as how he'd probably have felt the same way had he been lead into a deathtrap by an evil snake-man pretending to be a good friend.


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## Jon Potter

*Cool...*

I was more wondering whether that part of Quooral's backstory was brought to the PCs' attention - which it was.

I KNEW that Quooral would be forgiving.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Two, Part Three: The Scene of the Crime*

The morning light from outside the warehouse suddenly dimmed as the massive form of Quooral Stonecypher moved across the sun with all the ponderous grace of a lunar eclipse. Startled, the foreman looked up, only to see a pair of badges heading directly for him. He began to sweat.

"Officers..." he said, putting out his hand and hoping the nervousness didn't show on his face. "I'm Garston March, the foreman here." Around him, the workers resumed picking up shattered crates and debris.  March held a manifest in one hand and a piece of chalk in the other, and was marking damaged crates for disposal. _Keep calm, there's no way they can know about it..._

"There were some men here last night," stated one of the badges - the elf.

The foreman nodded. "That's right. From what I heard, someone was using the warehouse as a base for smuggling."  Looking over, he saw one of the workers shifting a crate. "By the door, Saskas," he called. Turning his attention back to the badges, he gave a half-hearted smile. "We're clearing out the damaged property and doing an inventory for the insurers."

The human badge looked around. "All right.  We'll leave you to it."

_*Compiler's Note:* I know there was more to this, but my note-taking abilities seem to have failed me...if either Dru or Di'Fier can remind me of the missing parts of the conversation I'll update it. Now I just have to hope that I'm not forgetting a valuable clue or something._







"Wait here," Di'Fier told his partner - and with a word, he faded from sight.

Dru grumbled to herself. _I hate it when he does that. He never tells me what he's doing._ She waited a few minutes, watching the workers load crates onto a small cart, then spun on her heel. "Come on, Quooral, maybe we can find a witness or something."

The people of Freeport were not known for their willingness to talk to the Watch, and this time was no exception.  Still, Dru got the impression that this time they weren't lying when they said they hadn't seen anything. She leaned against the wall and glared at the street. "Now where the hell did Di'Fier go?"

"...go."

The glare slowly became a puzzled frown.  "Quooral, did you hear something?"

"...thing."

The big genasi nodded. "Like an echo."

"...cho."

Dru leaned around the corner, looking into an alleyway littered with trash and debris.  At first her eyes passed over the pile of rags - it was only on a second glance that she saw the girl huddled inside. "Oh," she said. "It's you."

"...you."

"You look like hell. I think we'd better get you some food."

"...food."

"Yep. Come on, Quooral. Di'Fier can handle himself."






Di'Fier cirulated among the workers, listening to their talk.  Much of it centered around the occurrences of the night before, but they had even less solid information than the Watch.

It was only a few minutes until he noticed something strange.  Most of the damaged crates were being loaded onto a wagon, but some were being stacked by the door - and every so often, a worker would carry them around behind the warehouse.

_I wonder what they're doing with those..._ he thought, creeping forward.  Behind him, the foreman said, "All right, lads, we've marked them all. Finish up this load and we're for drinks." A ragged approval was the response.  One of the workers grabbed the last crate beside the door and carried it down the alley.

Di'Fier was right behind him.

At the other end of the alley, in a tiny side street, was a small pull-cart, with its presumed owner leaning against it insouciantly.  The fellow looked up as the worker came around the corner, and helped him maneuver the crate onto the cart.

Di'Fier crept closer, to hear their conversation.

"...more 'damaged goods' to get rid of?"

"Nah, last one.  Did you just hear something?"

"Prob'ly a rat."

Footsteps.  Di'Fier turned to see the foreman approaching.  With a nod, the other worker left, and the foreman turned to the business at hand.  "That's all...any more and they'd get suspicious." 

Pulling a small bag from under his shirt, the carter began to count out coins. "Well, I must say, it's a pleasure doin' business with ya."

The Watchman crept forward. _If I get on the cart I can find out where they're taking these..._ He slowly placed one foot on the back of the two-wheeled cart, putting his weight on it...

The cart tilted, and Di'Fier froze.  The poles at the front had come off of the ground.  Slowly...very slowly...he began to raise his foot.

It slipped.  Wooden poles smacked into the street.

The carter spun. "What was that?"

"Don't know. You'd better get out of here."

_I guess I follow on foot, then..._ the Watchman thought to himself, walking after the trundling cart.






Dru looked over at the girl with satisfaction, as she gobbled the food in front of her. _I wonder if she really understands..._ As she sat back and watched, she noticed Jemis enter the room.  The little smuggler headed over towards her.

"Dru," he greeted, joining them at the table. "I did some asking around about Roth and your father, just like you wanted."

"Anything?"

Jemis nodded. "Know a guy who knows a guy who works for Roth, an' he says Tensin has some kind of hold on Roth - blackmail or something. Had it for years." He glanced over at Echo, but didn't ask. "If you're looking for him, he's almost never at home. He's usually at the Gilt Club."

"Thanks, Jemis." Dru looked down at the girl. "You done?"

"...done."

"Okay. Come with me."

She led Echo through the halls of the Watch headquarters until they reached the tiny storage room that served as Glunnyn's lab. A variety of odors assaulted their nostrils as Dru opened the door. "Glunnyn?"

The little gnome was hunched over his alchemical apparatus.  On the table behind him, Delithrawien was spread over a formulary. The cat looked up at the two women and yawned.

"Tell them I'll be right with them, Del," said the gnome. The cat merely closed her eyes and laid her head back down.  In a moment, though, Glunnyn turned.  "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Glunnyn, this is Echo. She's got a very strange problem, and I want to know if you can read her mind."

"...mind."

"Hmm, yes, I see..." The gnome climbed onto a stool to allow him to peer into the girl's face.  She looked back with accepting interest. "Well, I did prepare that spell this morning.  Let's give it a try." Pulling a copper coin from his purse, the gnome rubbed it vigorously as he chanted.

Echo's eyes grew wide and distant, and she began to chant as well, a perfect repetition of Glunnyn's words, but a moment behind.  The surprised gnome struggled to keep his concentration, but he broke off. "I'm sorry..." he told Dru. "I didn't..."

"...expect that," Echo and Glunnyn said simultaneously.

Glunnyn's eyes widened. "She's speaking..."

"...simultaneously now."

"Something must have happened..."

"...with the spell."

"I wonder if she can read my mind as well..." Dru mused. Looking the girl in the eye, she thought with all of her force. _The brown cow lay down in the street._

Nothing.

Glunnyn coughed. "The ring..."

"Oh! Right." Dru slipped the ring she'd taken from the priestess of the Unspeakable One off of her finger and held it in her hand.  _The brown cow lay down in the..._

"...street," said Echo.


----------



## Horacio

Great update, as usual! 
I'm dying to know Echo's story...


----------



## DiFier

Only thing I remember is that Di'Fier had Ampiel relay a message to Dru and Quooral that He was following the cart.  If there was an important clue here I missed it.  But I do have a theory about the forman.


----------



## drnuncheon

Today's update, in the Rogue's Gallery, features the fourth member of the SCU: Ashrem, elven sniper.

Game tonight!


----------



## Zarthon

I had woundered what happened to Echo


----------



## drnuncheon

Well, I can promise that there will be more Echo in the future.  In fact, I plan on revisiting several of the dangling threads left over from Book One...

J


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

C'mon, post already!  I'm dying to read about me.  Er, us.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

C'mon, post already!  I'm dying to read about me.  Er, us.


----------



## paulewaug

lol

Dru you are priceless!

mmmm...dangling threads!! tasty!


----------



## Horacio

We are still waiting drnuncheon


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Two, Part Four: Back Alley Brawl*

"I wonder if she's some sort of wizard or sorcerer who became trapped?" Di'Fier mused as his partner relayed the session with Echo and Glunnyn to him.

"I'm not sure," said Dru, watching the girl. "What happened with your investigation?"

"Well, the foreman and some of the workers were loading certain boxes onto a cart behind the warehouse.  I followed that cart to the Beggar's Market in Scurvytown.  There wasn't any, ah, 'unusual' packing material though." Di'Fier paused. "You say she repeated the words of the spell?"

Dru nodded. "Like she was casting it at the same time."

Di'Fier frowned. "Let's try it again." Raising a hand, he made a minor incantation - which Echo repeated. The young mage struggled with the bizarre effect, but the simplicity of the spell was enough to keep him focused.  Echo lapsed into silence a moment after he did.

He waited for Dru to come out from under the effects of the _daze_ spell. "Well...it was hard to cast with her echoing like that...but I definitely did it. It didn't seem to have any other effect though."

Dru shook her head. "Right.  Let's get her some better clothes. Then we should go visit Roth at this club of his."

"We'd better wear our dress uniforms. They're pretty exclusive."






The two Watchmen followed the doorman into the main hall of the Gilt Club.  Lined with marble pillars, trimmed with rare woods, decorated by the work of some of the most famous artists of the city, the club put all other buildings in the city to shame - including the Sea Lord's Palace.

The room they were left in was comparatively sedate, but still more opulent than any they'd been in before. Dru immediately dropped into one of the elaborately carved chairs and propped her boots up on the table, while Di'Fier tested the quality of the carpet by pacing repeatedly around the room.

Eventually, the door opened.  Dru hurriedly pulled her feet from the table and stood to greet Torsten Roth, head of the Freeport Merchant's guild.  Behind him, she could see the form of Arlan Tarjay - a merchant nearly as successful - walking away, his face wracked with worry. _Interesting._

"Guildmaster Roth," Di'Fier began. "We're very sorry about what happened to your warehouse, and your men."

The guildmaster held up a hand. "They were not my men. From what I've heard they were engaging in illegal activities, and they were doing so without my sanction."

The Watchman nodded. "Of course."

His partner picked up the train of thought. "We had no idea there were so many unknown wizards of such power in the city."

Torsten leaned forward eagerly. "You're certain they are not known then?"

"It seems almost like this was supposed to send a message," Di'Fier mused.  "But to who? You?"

Roth sat back, shaking his head. "No. While I have enemies - anyone as successful as I am would - they are hardly the type to try to set warehouses on fire. Merchants usually tend to a more economic form of revenge."

Di'Fier nodded. "Of course.  It does seem like a bit of overkill just to send a message to you.  You will let us know if anything else happens?"

"Of course."

As they left the club, Dru unbuttoned the collar of her uniform. "Can't believe we got dressed up for _that_," she grumbled.  "Did you see Tarjay? He looked like he was waiting to find out if his breakfast had been poisoned or not."

"I wonder if your father's got something on him, too."






The rest of the evening passed slowly.  A widespread investigation in the Docks district by the entire team had turned up no new information - either there had been no witnesses, or they were all keeping quiet.

Dru and Di'Fier collected Echo from Spruce in the Records Department, who had been watching her for them, and headed out across the Old City to their homes.

Suddenly, Dru raised a hand. Shouts echoed down an alleyway - and then the unmistakable liquid tongue of spellcasting. As one, she and Di'Fier whirled and charged towards the sound.

"What is this?" Dru shouted. "Break it up!"

The fight hardly paused: a trio of cloaked figures dodged the blades of the two elves that attacked them.  A third already lay crumpled in a corner of the square. One of the humans looked up and Dru's words and snarled, spitting eldritch words. Two glowing bolts spiralled from his hand, burning into Dru's chest.  His companions treated their elven opponents in the same way, and another elf dropped.

Di'Fier, his blade drawn, reached out with his magic and gave time a twist. The rest of the combat seemed to slow, and as soon as he'd finished he gave the mage that had attacked his partner a taste of his own medicine, the trio of manabolts searing through clothing to burn unprotected flesh.

"That's _it_," Dru gritted through clenched teeth as she charged. "You. Are _all_. Under. *Arrest!*" To punctuate her pronouncement, she dropped the spellcaster who had dared to attack her with a single blow, straight through the heart.

The eyes of one of the humans went wide with fear.  He spun, calling out a word that seemed to lift him gracefully through the air in an arc that landed atop a low building.  His companion's spell sent a sizzling green bolt slamming into the chest of the last elf, who dropped with a scream.  The mage turned to run.

Di'Fier watched him crawl along in slow motion, the magic of the _haste_ spell thrumming in his veins. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a sphere of fire and sent it rolling towards the fleeing killer, and then charged after it himself. The blade arced through the air, and as it hit, Di'Fier's second spell pulsed through the blade. A rime of frost formed momentarily on the steel, and the edges of the wound blackened with frostbite.

_It actually worked!_ thought the young mage, as his opponent spun and stepped back. He twisted out of the way of a second acidic missile, and at his command the _flaming sphere_ arced through the air and slammed into the criminal from behind.

Di'Fier pulled another spell to the forefront of his mind and let it spill from his lips, the glowing sigils erasing themselves as he did so.  Now he could feel power surging through his muscles as well as speed.  The bastard sword danced lightly in his hands as he took a step forward and delivered a final blow to the mage.  Leaving the body where it lay, he walked back to Dru, the flames flickering out behind him.

She looked up from the body of one of the elves and shook her head. "It's too late. They were with my father's organization, though. I recognize one of them.  It looks like they got ready in a hurry - they knew a fight was coming, but they had a little time to prepare.  Not that it did them much good."  In her hand, she held a rolled scroll, which she handed to Di'Fier. "One of the humans was carrying this."


----------



## Horacio

Great action packed update, drnuncheon!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Two, Part Five: The Message*

Chirr looked up as the door to Sehanoarun's opened. _She's here again? That's the second time today,_ he thought, as Dru strode over to his table, her cloak shedding the remnants of the rain.  Without preamble, she sat.

"What's going on with Papa?" she demanded.

Chirr's mouth hung open. "I...ah..." He couldn't meet her eyes. _I shouldn't be telling her this, but..._ "He's worried, Dru.  These attacks are aimed at him, and none of us know who or why."

"I just got done finishing off two of them.  They killed Talis and two others. Someone will need to tell their families.  And tell my father no more avoiding me - I _must_ talk to him."






Di'Fier helped lift the last of the bodies onto the cart, and with a wave from the driver it rumbled off to the morgue.  The Watchman stared after it until it vanished in the night. _There, that's done.  Now, all I have to do is find Echo, and wait for Dru._  "Echo?" he called out.  "It's all right now, you can come out."

The only answer was the sound of the rain.






"I can't make heads or tails of it," Dru complained.  She leaned back in her chair and tossed the message back onto the desk she shared with Di'Fier.  "I don't even know which way is up."

Her partner nodded. "It's no alphabet I've ever seen.  Still, tomorrow I'll just prepare my spell of translation...hmmm."

"Hmm?"

"I wonder if Glunnyn is still around."

The gnome was.  In fact, he had set up a cot in the small room he had claimed for an alchemist's lab, which he used for his frequent catnaps.  Now, however, he was overseeing the reaction of a pair of reagents whose purpose seemed to be solely to make a foul odor reminiscent of burning brimstone.

"Glunnyn. Can you read this for us?"

The gnome's hand shot out impatiently, seized the note, and brought it back in front of his face - all without looking up from the alembic he was studying.  An instant later, it thrust the paper back at Di'Fier. "Not a bit of it. Complete gibberish."

Dru cleared her throat. "Could you cast a _spell_?"

The gnome turned to her and blinked, as if the possibility had not occurred to him. "Ahhhh...let me see." Taking the paper from Di'Fier - more gently this time - he smoothed it out on an unused stretch of table and spoke a word, then studied it again.  Frowning, he rotated the paper, his expression changing from displeased to puzzled as he did. "How odd."

"What does it say?"

Glunnyn handed the paper back. "No idea. It seems to be resistant to spells of translation." He thought about it for a moment, then added, "Since the spell operates partially by psychometrically discerning the communicator's intent, it _is_ vulnerable to giving an incorrect translation - or no translation at all - when the writer's intent is to conceal information."

Dru looked blank, but Di'Fier nodded. "So it's a cipher."

"Most probably."






Dru threw the stick of charcoal down in disgust and wiped her hands on a rag. "Stupid criminals...why couldn't they write their secret messages in plain language?"

Di'Fier looked up for a moment, as if he were about to explain the matter, but then thought better of it.  "If we can just figure out a few of these letters..."

An elven finger stabbed at the page. "That one's an 'e'."

"How do you know?"

"It's there all the time.  All over the place."

"I guess we can try it..."






Di'Fier sat back and read over the translation.  "We have the girl and the b-tch is a hellion - she and her friends wounded...er, someone...when we grabbed her. We got the one you wanted and two others but one got away in the fight.  We'll have her tracked down soon enough."

"Great.  Just great."  Dru threw up her hands.  "Does anything on this case fit in with anything else?"

_- End of Session 2 -

*Next Session:* Two brutal murders for the price of one - and a choice no Watchman should ever have to make.  Don't miss it!_


----------



## Horacio

Great update! I want more! More! Moooooore!


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Great update! I want more! More! Moooooore! *




Well...just a _little_ bit more...

Jemis is now appearing in the Rogue's Gallery.


----------



## Thorntangle

So many loose ends. It's great to see a mystery get untangled and come together. Keep up the good work Doc!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Three, Part One: Theories, Hunches, and Wild-*ss Guesses*

Dru growled as the ink dripped from her pen onto the paper.  She despised paperwork at the best of times, and after the fight last night there was plenty to be filled out.  And Di'Fier wasn't around to do it - he had to sleep in to be able to compose his mind to prepare his spells.  _I wish I had that excuse,_ she thought.

As if the thought of her partner had conjured him, Di'Fier stepped into the room and sat down across their shared desk.  He picked up the partially completed paperwork. "You forgot about the elf that was down when we got there. And they're called _magic missiles_, not 'godsdamned magic da-'" he cut himself off at the low warning growl from the elf's throat, and set the paper down carefully. "Did you talk to the Captain yet?"

Dru nodded. "Nothing on the missing persons angle.  I showed him the cipher, but we still have nothing to go on to figure out who this 'hellion' is. Or how it connects to the warehouse.  If it even does."

Di'Fier nodded.  "I've been thinking about it a lot," he admitted.  "Does your father deal in narcotics at all?"

"...probably."  She knew he did, but decades of training not to speak of her father's business still had a powerful hold over her.

Her partner continued on. "What if the foreman works for your father? He's got the access...we already know he's crooked.  Here's where it gets rough.  If your father has something on Roth, maybe Roth is trying to get back at him.  Maybe he's hired these wizards to go after your father."

"It's a possibility..." Dru said grudgingly. "I hadn't thought Roth would view the workers as just assets.  It could be the foreman is trying to play both sides, too." She thought for a moment, then brightened a bit. "We could kill him and see if things stop."

Di'Fier chose his words carefully. "I think he's a minor player, all things considered."

"You're probably right.  But where does the girl fit in?  We've assumed that she was from a rich family...they could be poor, or homeless."

"Or they have a note saying 'Don't go to the Watch,'" Di'Fier replied. "But you're right, we should check with the beggars - maybe they know what happened to Echo, too."

"Dru. Di'Fier." It was Captain Donnach. "They've found the body of the third wizard from last night's fight. By the city wall near Scurvytown.  Get your team together and check it out.  It's no ordinary killing.  The heart's gone."






The rain had washed away any evidence that might once have been on the body.  Now, fish-pale and bloodless, it leaned against the Old City wall, ribs gaping and face frozen in a rictus of pain.

"Looks like he fought back," Dru commented, standing over the corpse. "Look at those cuts on his arms."

Di'Fier did.  Privately, he thought they looked a lot like the thin white web of scars that spread in a network across Dru's arms.  "Looks like this was the death-wound, though. Single stab, severing the artery coming from the heart." He sat back a bit. "Somehow I'm glad to know we aren't dealing with something that's ripping the hearts out of people while they're still alive."

"Is there a magic spell or something that would use a human heart?"

Di'Fier shook his head. "Not that I know of.  Some potions use the heart of an animal - say, a bull or a tiger, to give you their strength."  He looked over at the broken body. "I wonder if this was punishment for failure?"

"Or maybe revenge."  As the other Watchman prepared to load the corpse onto the cart, Dru noted something else odd. "Look at the legs. They've been broken."

"That's new.  Then again, this one was sitting up, too."

Dru pulled back her hood and studied the scene.  There - higher up on the wall. She pointed. "There's some kind of stain above where the body was.  Almost washed away by the rain. Drag marks or something."

Di'Fier studied the wall. "I wonder if the killer dragged him down the wall as he was trying to jump away."

A check of the other side of the wall revealed nothing, and so the team haded back to Watch Headquarters.  Before long, Dru and Di'Fier found themselves in the Rusty Lantern over a pair of hot lunches.  As they ate, the door opened to admit a slight figure, hunched against the weather, and carrying an oilskin-wrapped package. Forcing the door closed, the figure threw back his hood to reveal the face of Lucius.  The older man smiled when he saw that Dru and Di'Fier were present, and he crossed to their table.

"Lucius!" Di'Fier exclaimed. "How is the job going at the Guild?"

"Oh, quite well. The other librarian - well, as a librarian he's a pretty good wizard.  I've already begun plans to reorganize the guild's library to something more along the lines of the Temple's - as it stands there's almost no organization at all."

"Why do you think so many Guild members came to the Temple for their research?"

Lucius turned to Dru. "Actually, it's because of you that I came here.  Word has gotten around the Guild about the spellcasters, and the warehouse." As he spoke, he was unwrapping the bindings on the package to reveal a small stack of thin books.  "I thought it might be helpful for you to know a little bit more about what you're up against.  Anything in Di'Fier's library is probably a bit beyond the layman, but I've found these books to be quite helpful in explaining things in terms we non-wizards can understand.  I don't think they'll be missed from the library, but -" he glanced at Di'Fier "- please keep it quiet all the same."

"Of course," said Dru.  "And thank you, Lucius."


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *So many loose ends. It's great to see a mystery get untangled and come together. Keep up the good work Doc! *




This must be some strange definition of "get untangled and come together" that I was not previously aware of.  Right now, all of the clues seem to be proceeding away from each other in the fastest possible manner, causing Dru and Di'Fier all manner of headaches.

I am also happy to say that I've finally resumed work on the collected edition of Book One.  The Dramatis Personae is accurate up to Chapter 9, and it looks like we're going to be able to include a story or two about Dru's childhood in the bonus material - written by Dru herself!  With any luck I'll be able to include some stuff from Di'Fier as well (hint, John, if you're reading this - maybe the spellsword stuff we discussed?).

This weekend is a 'double session Saturday' and I have to admit that even I don't know where it's going to go.  You'll understand why after tomorrow's update...

J


----------



## Horacio

A last "Horacio says great update!" before going in Germany for 10 days (I don't know if I'll find a computer with internet).

Read you in 10 days!


----------



## Jon Potter

*Excellent!*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> This weekend is a 'double session Saturday' and I have to admit that even I don't know where it's going to go.  You'll understand why after tomorrow's update...
> 
> J *




A Double Session should yield lots of yummy updates! You should do it more often. 

And BTW, I'm glad to hear that you're still working on the collected edition of Book One. I look forward to reading through it again once you get it together. And some player fiction is a most welcome addition to the mix!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Three, Part Two: The Offer*

_*Freeport Neighborhoods: The *_*Kesir*_
The _Kesir_ (a brutal shortening of the elven name, _kesir bene' sarash'aul beneral_ - roughly translated 'the small elven city within the city') is a neighborhood on the edges of the Old City near the Merchant's District gate that is home to much of Freeport's elven population.  The _Kesir_ is not recognized as a formal area of the city - at least by the government - but nonetheless any Watchman could tell you its borders.  

The streets of the _Kesir_ are unusually safe, even for the Old City, due in large part to the watchful eye of Tensin Naïlo and his enforcers._

"Jemis! Don't slouch when you're fighting!"

"...sorry, Dru."

"OK, team, that's about enough for today," Di'Fier called out before turning to his partner. "I think we should go visit our beggar friends - find out if they've seen Echo.  And they're in the warehouse district - someone might have seen what happened the other night."

Dru nodded. "I'll stop by the bakery and pick up some food for them."







Rain dribbled in through holes in the unrepaired roof, splashing into mud on the floor - and into the large barrel crudely labeled 'Beggar's Well'.  The struggling fire hung a haze of smoke in the wet air of the warehouse, and barely provided enough light for Dru to see, let alone her human partner.

As they entered the building, she could see shapes moving back into the darkness, and the glint of eyes watching her.  As before, only the old man remained, pushing himself up on his single leg and fitting the crutch under his arm.  He looked the pair over and murmured, "Congratulations on your promotions."

Dru set the sack carefully down on a dry patch of flooring. "Thank you.  We were wondering if you'd seen Echo lately?"

The lines of the old man's face deepened as he narrowed his eyes. "No.  What is going on?"

"We found her yesteday, in an alley.  Fed her and cleaned her up, and then she disappeared again."

The beggar studied the embers of the fire.  "So you don't know any more about it than we do.  She has been disappearing at night, and nobody knows where she goes."

"This is new?"

"Yes, she's been here for years - the disappearances only started happening a few months ago."

Dru considered that for a moment. "Is anyone else here missing?"

"No...just Echo."

There was a pause, and Di'Fier broke the silence this time.  "Do any of you know about what happened at Torsten Roth's warehouse the night before last?"

"The explosion?" The old man nodded. "The news is all over the city."

"We thought that maybe one of your people had seen something."

Again, the nod. Then, turning to the shadows, he called out: "Martin. Come here.  You must tell these people what you saw."

A young boy shuffled forward. The scars of old burns puckered the side of his face, pulling the eyelid open over an empty socket.  The remaining eye was clear and blue, and ran over the Watchmen with suspicion.

The old man slowly lowered himself onto the crate that served as his chair.  "The men at the warehouse, Martin.  Tell them what you saw."

The boy's lips parted, and he began to speak in a soft voice.  "There were five of them.  One big, bigger than you, the rest normal size.  They was wearing cloaks.  They came up to the door, and one of the shorter ones blew it up and they went inside. And then there was fire all over. And they left."

"Where did they come from?" Di'Fier asked.  "And which way did they go?"

"The...the docks. Both ways."  The boy licked his lips. "And there was someone following them.  A woman, dressed all bright in red and gold."

The attention of both Watchmen was riveted on the boy. "What did she look like?"  Di'Fier asked.

The boy's halting descriptions and the Watchmen's questions gradually built up a picture of the woman, and Di'Fier leaned back.  They both recognized the description, of course.  They had seen the woman before, at Swagfest.

But when they last saw her, she had been spread-eagled in an alley, her ribs bent back and her heart torn out.






"...bigger than Di'Fier," Dru mused as they wandered out of the warehouse district. "Maybe an orc. Or an ogre. But why would they be casting spells?"

"Right now, I'm more wondering about that person following them.  They seem to be taking the shape of the person they killed last.  What if..."  He paused a moment, and Dru knew it was going to be time for one of his theories.  "What if Echo is doing this?  She does have some kind of magical ability."

Dru nodded slowly.  She didn't want to think of the poor girl as a murderess.  "It could be someone's controlling her mind. Or she's demon possessed." Then her natural cynicism came to the fore. "Or she's just plain evil."

The Watch-mage rubbed his chin.  "...and whoever it is, they've targeted three magic-users already."

"Maybe they don't like magic-users." Dru considered this for a moment, then grinned. "Maybe they'll try to kill you - and then we can get them!"

Di'Fier groped for the words to express his opinion delicately.  "I... think I'd prefer that not to happen."  Just then, his attention was caught by a rapidly approaching pair of badges.  "Davos, Kliege - what's happening?"

Davos grunted, breathing heavily.  The pair were sweating under their cloaks.  His partner inhaled deeply, then said, "There's been a murder in th'Old City, on Quarlani Street.  It's real bad.  Old woman clawed all t'pieces. Cap'n said t'come find you guys."

_Quarlani Street? That's right in the middle of the _Kesir_..._ "Go back to headquarters and send out runners to get the rest of the SCU," Dru told them. "We'll head over there now." _And hopefully avoid a confrontation with Papa's men._






Dru closed her eyes and looked away.  _The poor woman..._ Dru had only met her once before - when investigating the death of her daughter, and the insane alchemist who caused it.  _She did not deserve this._

The scene was every bit as bad as Kliege had implied.  Sprays of blood flecked the walls with red, and the stench of it filled the air. The old seamstress' body had been shredded - torn apart as if by a gigantic beast.

Di'Fier murmured softly, "No tracks...it's not something that walked in and walked out."

Dimly, Dru heard the voice of the watchmen at the door begin to protest: "Hey. Hey! You can't go in-" and then cut off abruptly. She turned to look at the doorway...

...and met the eyes of her father.

With barely a glance at the Watchmen, Tensin Naïlo crossed the blood-streaked floor and knelt by the pitiful shell.  One hand reached out to gently touch the old elf's face, and in High Elven, he murmured to her. "_Grandmother_," he said - a term of respect, not of relation - "_...there will be an accounting for this._"

Soundlessly, he stood, and without turning to face his daughter, he began to speak.  "_Drusilia. There is a war in Freeport._"  His eyes remained fixed on the seamstress' body. "_It is not a war that you and yours can fight, let alone win._" Now he turned, his eyes locking on hers. "_I would have you by my side in this war, daughter.  But you must come back to the fold.  I cannot afford divided loyalties._"


----------



## Thorntangle

*Re: Session Three, Part Two: The Offer*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *I would have you by my side in this war, daughter.  But you must come back to the fold.  I cannot afford divided loyalties." *



In Horacio's stead: Great Update! A great decision for Dru to be forced to make. It will be interesting to see how she handles the situation.


----------



## Jon Potter

*Whoah...*

And might I add that you are a cruel, cruel DM.

I LOVE it!


----------



## drnuncheon

There are some moments that just make your day as a DM.  The look on Dru and Di'Fier's face when I dropped that on them was one of them.

Dru always knew that someday she'd be forced to make that decision, she just never had any idea it would be this soon.  It was always comfortably far off - and 'comfortably far off' in an elven way, long after Di'Fier, the Captain and everyone else was dead and gone.

J
...she decides on Saturday.


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *...she decides on Saturday. *




I can't wait to read what she decides.

I honestly don't know what I'd do in her situation.

I hope that you're prepared to run two concurrent storylines. One-on-one sessions can be fun, but I'm not sure that I'd want to deal with the headache of maintaining continuity between the two players. Since they're essentially working toward the same goal, that will be a major challenge!


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Yeah, Dr. N is a big meanie alright.  I imagine that she'll stop agonizing over the decision sometime during the double-session, and choose one way or the other.  You'll hear all about it next week!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Three, Part Three: "I always knew I'd regret not being able to kill him..."*

"_I cannot afford divided loyalties._"  Her father's words hit Dru like a blow from Quooral's hammer. _Choose between my only family and the life I've made for myself?  How can I?_

The older elf held up his hand. "_It is not a decision to be made in haste.  When you have made it, you know where I may be found._"  Neither Dru nor Di'Fier made any motion to stop him from leaving, and silence hung over the scene for several long moments.

Finally, Dru spoke.  "I know you understood that, but...please. Don't say anything."

Her partner nodded.

The pair spread out and searched the area, finding no other clues to the identity of the murderer - or the motive.  As Di'Fier checked the back door - it was securely locked - a sound fron the front room caught his attention.  But Dru was checking the stairs...slowly he crept to the door and peered in.  Nothing had changed.

Dru appeared at his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I heard something in the front room."

Dru's hand went to her sword. "Invisible.  Cast your spell and we'll take care of it."  There was a long pause.  "Well?"

"I didn't prepare it today," the mage admitted.

"Then I guess we do it the old fashioned way."  Dru drew her sword and stepped into the room, methodically slicing through each patch of air - and listening for movement.

_If I cast _detect magic_ I should be able to sense the _invisibility_ spell,_ Di'Fier thought.  He uttered a single word, and began to concentrate - and then he heard the voice.

It spoke in the harsh language of magic. "_Svent kear, majak sverak!_" And the room was plunged into utter black.

_A darkness spell? But that wasn't any darkness spell I know...there was something else..._ 

He felt motion beside him, and then the door closed. "It's me," said Dru.  "Can you get rid of this?"

"...no.  I didn't prepare a _dispel_ either."

"Why not?"

"I wanted to be able to cast _spirit slayer_..."

"I can't hear anything moving..."  Dru opened the door, and the pair slipped out into the hall - and out of the darkness.  As she closed the door, the sound of metal on metal caught her attention.  "Di'Fier! Down the hall!" She pulled a flask from her pouch and hurled it down the hall, the glass shattering on the door and splashing its contents everywhere.  She was rewarded with a hiss of pain.

Di'Fier drew his sword and raised his left hand, calling forth a sphere of flame to guard the door - but to no avail.  The back door flew open.

"He's getting away!" Dru charged down the hallway towards the flames, diving over them and tumbling out the back door only to rise with her blade drawn. "Damnit! Where _is_ he?"

With a curse, Di'Fier dismissed the _flaming sphere_ and ran to the alley himself.  No sight nor sound of the fleeing killer.  He jogged down the alley and listened again.  Nothing.  "He probably climbed the building!"

Dru fitted her fingers into the thin gaps between the bricks and hauled herself upward, clinging tightly to the corner of the building.  Below her, Di'Fier pulled out a scroll and read from it, then swarmed up the side of the building at top speed.

Once on the roof, they were confronted with a maze of buildings - and still no sign of the killer.  Di'Fier braced himself on the slanted surface and cast a second _detect magic_.  Slowly he scanned the area, as Dru leapt to another roof to investigate it.

"Nothing," he said with disgust.  "Not even registering.  I don't know where he went."






Dru and Di'Fier wound their way through the streets of the Old City.  The rest of the SCU had failed to turn up any leads at the scene.  Di'Fier was deep in thought - and for once, so was Dru.

The tall mage paused a moment.  "Remember when we were dealing with the vanilla beans and the royal jelly? Your father didn't want that other organization to sell the contracts.  I wonder if Kenzil's behind this."

Dru looked up, jolted out of her own thoughts. "It seems a bit far to go for some missing contracts," she said dubiously. "But I wouldn't put anything past him.  I always knew I'd regret not being able to kill him."  She sighed.  "My father has too many enemies. It's not a matter of who would do it, it's a matter of who has the ability."

"And we know Kenzil does.  _Invisibility_, _spider climb_, changing his shape - all his old tricks.  But why the old woman? She was obviously someone your father respected."

"...I'm not sure."

"All right.  I'll see you tomorrow?"  For the first time in years, Di'Fier had to phrase it as a question.

"Yeah."  Dru turned and began to walk to her room.  She'd gotten about a block before Di'Fier's shouts drew her back.  Spinning, she bolted down the street, bursting through the door and drawing her blade as she charged up the stairs.

The room was a shambles.  All of her partners' papers - books, scrolls, parchment - all was scattered around the room as it had been ransacked. Drawers from the desk had been pulled out and dumped, shelves moved or even toppled.  Someone had searched the place thoroughly.  "Is anything missing?"

"I don't think so.  They even left my spellbooks.  I guess they didn't find what they were looking for."

They straightened up as best they could in a few minutes, and then went downstairs to talk to the landlady.  "Nobody's been up there but you, dear," she told him.

The partners exchanged wary glances, and in moments, they were at the inn where Dru rented a room.  The landlady gave her a knowing wink as she entered with Di'Fier, but Dru ignored it as usual.  "Has anyone been in my room?"

"No, nobody but you.  You didn't find what you were looking for?"

_Looking for? But I haven't..._

The room was, as she had half expected, much the same as Di'Fier's - with less paper, naturally.  Kicking it aside, she saw the familiar jade statue that held the door, still in its accustomed place.  "They ignored your spellbooks and the Jade Serpent both," she said. "They must have been looking for something very specific.  And I have a feeling that I know what it was."






Late that night, as Dru sat in an unfamiliar chair in an unfamiliar room, her mind rebelling against the very idea of trance, she replayed her father's words over and over.  _I would have you by my side in this war, daughter.  But you must come back to the fold.  I cannot afford divided loyalties._ She could amost see him in front of her, dissecting her with his gaze to peel away the outer layers and reveal the girl that had left so long ago. And then she realized something else.

The killer had been in the room the entire time...and he had heard Tensin call her 'daughter'.

_- End of Session 3 -_


----------



## Zarthon

This is getting better and better


----------



## Esiminar

:drool: Must, Have, More!!

This is absolutley great


----------



## drnuncheon

OK, it's the seventh day, and I'm resting.  But I figured I'd put up a little teaser anyway, so you all won't be completely Freeport-deprived.


Captain Donnach walked slowly down the dimly lit hallway that led to the Watch archives.  _Another body without a heart,_ he thought.  _An adventurer, an entertainer, a fleeing criminal, and now a small-time pimp._  He'd been over the files - hell, most of the senior Watchmen had been over the files - and although there had been a lot of theories, none had given any fruit.  He didn't really think the new murder would halp - in fact, he had the sinking feeling it would confuse the issue.

The door to the archives was slightly ajar, and the room beyond dark.  Donnach frowned, and reached for the handle, pushing it open.  "Spruce?" he called, stepping forward.

Five pounds of stone-ground flour hit him on the head.

The Captain staggered forward through the white haze, coughing and swearing. In front of him, a heavy oaken table had been overturned as a makeshift barricade, behind which a tiny form huddled behind the massively menacing shape of a seige crossbow.

"*Spruce!*" bellowed Captain Donnach.

The panicked archivist jumped, the massive crossbow slipping from his fingers. With a deep _thrumm_ the bow discharged its quarrel straight up to imbed itself in the ceiling, the fletching slicing the tip of Spruce's nose on the way past.

"Just _what_ in the name of all that is holy is going _on_ here?"  Donnach knew what the archivist's words would be.  _Dru and Di'Fier.  It's _got_ to be them.  I don't know how, or why, but it's got to be._

He could feel one of his headaches coming on.


----------



## drnuncheon

Apparently today I'm suffering from one of Captain Donnach's headaches - although I was able to finish off my eye candy for the next session and some other stuff, I don't think I'll be able to muddle through an installment of the Story Hour today.

Instead, I'll show you why it's not a good thing to leave me alone for too long - I get ideas.  This one was spawned by the realization that my players needed dice bags - Dru's dice sat on a shelf and I think Di'Fier was transporting his in an electric razor case.  

Now, any ordinary human being would go out and buy some dicebags (or at least a lot of Crown Royal), but not drnuncheon.  Instead, he took over the dining room table for the better part of a week, covering the apartment in scraps of fabric and bits of thread.  Several painful but non-life-threatening wounds later he decided that hand sewing was not the answer: heavy industrial machinery was.  Unfortunately Dru vetoed the purchase of a rivet gun so he had to settle for using her sewing machine. After much swearing he figured out how to make the bobbin remain in the machine (instead of launching itself at him) and eventually produced something that would hold a few dice in relative comfort.






The dicebags were presented with all due ceremony at last Saturday's game session.  They did not have a noticable effect on the rolling of the dice, but it may be too early to tell.

J
(if anyone's crazy enough to do this, I can write up some instructions.)


----------



## gamecat

dude, the SJ game's begun, and we await your input!


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Dr. Nuncheon means that the new dicebags didn't have any effect on _his_ dice.  _I_ critted three times.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Four, Part One: Not Again...*

Di'Fier looked up as his partner swung easily into the chair next to him.  "Good morning," he said.

She grinned.  "I see you survived the night as well.  Do you still have that coded message?"

Di'Fier thought for a moment. "No, I gave that to you."

Dru laughed. "Oh, that's right. But I meant, do you have a _copy_?  I was thinking that maybe we ought to show one to my father."

Her partner frowned a moment. "Yeah, I've got the one Spruce made..." Dim shouts from the rain-drenched street caught his ear, and he looked towards the door.






Dru grumbled as she stalked through the rain towards the inn where she always met her partner. _You'd think after a century I'd get used to the rainy season,_ she thought. _I'd kill the rest of the Captain's Council just to see the sun again._

Her murderous train of thought was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a handspan of fletched wood slamming into her shoulder and piercing it. _Ambush!_ She half-ran, half-stumbled forward, drawing her rapier and feeling the fire spreading through her veins from the poisoned bolt. "Cowards!" she shouted. "Come out here and _fight!_"

Di'Fier turned to glance behind him. _That sounded just like Dru, but..._

...but his erstwhile tablemate was gone, leaving only a dawning realization in her wake. _Oh. Oh, no. They fooled me. They fooled me good._  And with that thought, he was racing out the door, the words to his spell of _haste_ tumbling over each other as they fought to escape from his lips.  Water flew as he splashed through puddles towards Dru...he hoped.

The fire spread through Dru's body - and then, a sudden sharp pain in her wrists. She looked down, and saw a vile green-black liquid well up from the newly opened wounds...no.  Not newly opened - _re_opened.  They were the cuts she had given herself with the Fangs of the Serpent.  As she watched, the fire in her veins receded as the tainted blood tricked down her hand and the cuts sealed themselves.

A movement caught the corner of Di'Fier's eye - just enough for him to turn and see the bolt of mystic energy spiralling towards him.  No way to dodge..._At least there's only one of them, they can't be that good of a wizard,_ he thought through the pain.

Dru looked up from her wrists to see the sniper fade into view. "Nobody chucks a spell at my partner and gets away with it!" she growled. Her sword clattered on the cobbles as she pulled bow and arrow from under her cloak and loosed an arrow to slice the woman on her arm.  Her partner didn't seem to happy about the idea either - with supernatural speed, he flashed forward, landed a blow on her with his blade, and returned to Dru's side.

The air around them echoed with chanting from an unseen source.  Another bolt of energy slammed into Di'Fier, then the woman turned and ran - the the chanting continued.

Dru stooped to grab her sword, when the chanting ceased - replaced instead by the the stench of sulfur and an unearthly howl, as a shaggy black wolf materialized in the rainy street.  Hellfire danced in its violet eyes, and steam rose from its flanks as it sprang to the attack.

Di'Fier interposed his blade between the creature and his body - and Dru twisted and spun, realizing that something was not right. Her movement took her out of the path of the blade that had been poised to stab her - weilded by a cloaked man who was just fading into visibility.  Even as he did so, another voice began to chant.

"Gods damn them all, how many invisible people are out here, anyway?" Dru snarled, her blade slicing only empty air.  Strangely, none of their invisible assailants came forward to admit their presence - the only answer was fleeing footsteps, almost inaudible over the rain.

"I think they're all gone.  I need to scribe some scrolls of _see invisible_..." His eyes wandered back to his partner, and he tensed. "How did you get those scars on your wrist?"

She scowled, rubbing at the just healed mark. "You were there. I cut them with the Fangs so we could get the Jade Serpent of Yig."

He relaxed. "Good, you're you.  They sent someone to impersonate you to try and get the message." As he thought about the encounter, he looked more and more upset. "...and I went and told them everything.  They know you have it, and they know Spruce made copies for us."

"Oh yeah?" said Dru. "Let's see how they like _this_." Snatching the message from a hidden pocket in her cloak, she pulled a tindertwig from her pouch and scraped it along her belt.  The paper caught easily despite the rain, burning into ash. "We'd better go warn Spruce, then."






"Dru...Di'Fier," Jaffar rasped. "Found another one of your heartless bodies down in the harbor."

Dru leaned in very close and studied the man through narrowed eyes.  Jaffar swallowed, and moved back a bit.

"Did I ever tell you how I got this scar on my face?" she asked.

Jaffar's jaw fell open. "Huh? Wha-?" Seeing th elook on the elf's face, he hastened to answer.  "It was when you an' Di'Fier busted up that _za'this_ game on that one guys boat..."

Dru straightened.  "Good enough.  We've had some trouble with magical disguises lately.  We'll go down to check it out as soon as we've talked to Spruce."






The archivist stared open-mouthed at the two Watchmen.  "Magical disguises and impostors?" he said. "We need some way to recognize that we are who we say we are...we need a _code word!_"

Di'Fier couldn't help but grin as he thought about it.  Remembering the disastrous undercover operation early in their careers, he said: "The code word is 'jongleur'.  And the answering sign is..."

"Calzone," supplied Dru.  "Just work one of those into the conversation and if we respond with the other one you'll know it's us.  But be careful - they know that you made copies of that message for us, and they can go invisible.  Get an escort before you go home tonight."

"Or better yet, sleep here," added Di'Fier.  "Whatever you do, be careful."






The body had been pulled from the water by some helpful bystanders with boat hooks, and now it lay on the dock - shriveled and pale, dined on by fish, the ribs cracked open and the heart removed.  

Dru peered at the mutilated face.  It looked familiar..."This is the guy that was beating Echo.  Tovin.  Looks like whoever did this cut him up pretty bad after they killed him."  She frowned, studying the cuts on what was left of his face. "It almost looks like they form a pattern."

Di'Fier shrugged. "Not like anything I've ever seen.  Better off dead anyway." Looking at the pair of watchmen with the cart, he shrugged. "Get him out of here."


----------



## J'quan

Having only found this story hour last night, and now having read through all of it, I must say, * THANKS! *  I've recently picked up the Freeport City book to use as a source for something I may run in the future, and this Story Hour has given me all sorts of juicy ideas!  Keep on writing!


----------



## Thorntangle

*Re: Session Four, Part One: Not Again...*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *She grinned.  "I see you survived the night as well.  Do you still have that coded message?"
> *




"Is it safe?.....Is it _safe_?"  <--- creepy movie reference.

Great action, Doc. A little paranoia never hurt anyone


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Four, Part Two: Dru's Decision*

"...so it sounds like Gallowglass has got a serious mad on for Kenzil, and nobody's sure why," Jemis was saying. "But whatever it was, Sol's willing to put down five large for anyone who brings him Kenzil's head."

"Interesting," said Di'Fier.  "I wonder if it ties in with the contracts." His mind was already racing, trying to piece this fact in with the others.

"It seems like a heavy price to put on failure," Dru observed. "I wonder if there's something more behind it." She levered herself out of her chair and stretched.  "Let's see if we can find out anything about the war down by the harbor."  The morning had been full of Di'Fier's theories, and she'd had an earful of talk.  Maybe they'd get lucky and someone would attack them.






"Yeah, everybody's all worked up about it.  Naïlo ain't the only one bein' hit.  Finn lost a coupla-three guys too.  It looked like an overdose of _chakar_, but Finn ain't never let his guys near that stuff, not on duty.  He ain't stupid, it was a message."

Di'Fier frowned at the informant Dru had dug up.  "How about the Blue Lantern Gang? Have they been hit?" He didn't _think_ they had so much magical firepower, but...

"They been layin' low," shrugged the beefy man. "Guess they're hopin' whoever it is don't take notice of them until the big boys are out of the way. But..."

Shouts from down the street cut him off, and Di'Fier peered out into the rain. Was that a flicker of orange in the street?

Alarm bells began to ring, and the shout came: _Fire!_






Captain Donnach walked slowly down the dimly lit hallway that led to the Watch archives.  _Another body without a heart,_ he thought.  _An adventurer, an entertainer, a fleeing criminal, and now a small-time pimp._  He'd been over the files - hell, most of the senior Watchmen had been over the files - and although there had been a lot of theories, none had given any fruit.  He didn't really think the new murder would halp - in fact, he had the sinking feeling it would confuse the issue.

The door to the archives was slightly ajar, and the room beyond dark.  Donnach frowned, and reached for the handle, pushing it open.  "Spruce?" he called, stepping forward.

Five pounds of stone-ground flour hit him on the head.

The Captain staggered forward through the white haze, coughing and swearing. In front of him, a heavy oaken table had been overturned as a makeshift barricade, behind which a tiny form huddled behind the massively menacing shape of a seige crossbow.

"*Spruce!*" bellowed Captain Donnach.

The panicked archivist jumped, the giant crossbow slipping from his fingers. With a deep _thrumm_ the bow discharged its quarrel straight up to imbed itself in the ceiling, the fletching slicing the tip of Spruce's nose on the way past.

"Just _what_ in the name of all that is holy is going _on_ here?"  Donnach knew what the archivist's words would be.  _Dru and Di'Fier.  It's _got_ to be them.  I don't know how, or why, but it's got to be._

He could feel one of his headaches coming on. 






Dru and Di'Fier stood in front of the Jolly Roger, watching as the flames licked from the front door and first floor windows.  Most of the inhabitants had made it out, and were clustered in varying states of undress in the street.

As they watched, a window on the third story shattered, and a woman started to crawl through. Smoke poured through the opening behind her.

_She'll never make it,_ thoguht Di'Fier, his hand automatically going to the scroll tube that hung at his waist.  The rain splattered on the scroll as he read, making the ink run - but the spell held true, and he began to climb up the side of the building.

He saw Dru quaff a potion and leap, pulling herself up to a window on the second story and climbing into the building. Then he was at the woman's window, and rather distracted by the state of her undress as she clung to him. He began to make his way back down the side of the brothel.

Inside, Dru ducked low to avoid the smoke and raced along the halls, pounding on the doors and listening for a response.  Nothing on the second floor...nor the third. She heard the timbers of the building creak far below her as the fire did its work.  Was that a muffled sound behind the door? She pressed her hand against the cool wood for a moment, then stepped back and planted a firm kick.

On the bed - no, chained to the bed, and gagged, clad only in a leather posing pouch - was Judge Alfred "Bloody" Ubu, the most violent sadist to grace the city's courtrooms. "Good evening, Your Honor," Dru greeted him cheerfully. "Living on the other side a bit? Don't worry, we'll have you out of those chains in no time." Ignoring his frantic mumbling around the gag, she rummaged around for the key. "No key?  Hmm."

Out came another potion vial, and Dru's head swam as her perspective suddenly changed. Now her head scraped the ceiling of the tiny room, and the judge looked upon the elven giantess with a mixture of fear, awe, and...and she didn't particularly want to think about it.

"Let's try this," she said in a voice an octave deeper, grabbing hold of one of the chains and planting her foot on the bedpost. The wood protested as she heaved, but it still held.

"Need some help?" asked Di'Fier as he entered - taking the enormous Dru completely in stride. He nodded to the bound man.  "Hello, Your Honor.  Don't worry, we'll have you out of those chains in no time." The judge did not look reassured, but Di'Fier pushed back his sleeves and raised his hands, speaking a word that caused Dru's muscles to surge with even more power.

Dru wrapped a cloth around her hand and took hold of the chain.  The bed emitted a splintering shriek as the wood finally relenquished its hold - a noise that was echoed by the timbers supporting the building.

"I think we'd better hurry," said Di'Fier, forcing the window open. "Good thing I've got one scroll of _spider climb_ left." As Dru ripped the second chain from its mooring, he cast the spell on her.  The third and fourth chains followed in short order, and Di'Fier climbed out the window, a still gagged Judge Ubu following.  They started down the side of the building.

Dru moved across the room and began to squeeze through the window.  It had been big enough - barely! - for Di'Fier and the Judge, but her new seven foot frame was too much for it.

Her partner looked up from the base of the wall.  "Hang on, Dru!" he cried, as the building swayed. _Got to get this just right,_ he thought. _If I _dispel_ the _spider climb_ as well as the _enlarge_, she'll fall..._ Tendrils of magic rose at his command, picking apart the effects of the potion.  Suddenly released, Dru pitched forward, swinging down to catch herself on the windowsill and then rapidly descend the rest of the way.

The rear of the building sank down in a majestic collapse, and the bucket brigades fought to contain the flames.






Late that night, a figure crossed the rain-silvered streets of the Old City, bulky oilskin-wrapped packages under each arm.  It threaded through the mazelike alleys of the _Kesir_, stopping only when it came to a nondescript house on a nondescript court.  

The figure stood in the rain for a moment, as if gathering its courage, and then stepped forward as the door opened, and spoke.

"Tell Papa I've come home."


----------



## Thorntangle

*Re: Session Four, Part Two: Dru's Decision*



> _Originally posted by drnuncheon_
> *"Tell Papa I've come home."*



Tricky! Will it be the real Dru or fake Dru?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Four, Part Two: Dru's Decision*



			
				Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *
> Tricky! Will it be the real Dru or fake Dru? *




Welllll...there's actually a couple of clues in there, if you're extremely sharp. 

J


----------



## DiFier

I only got one.  And that is only cause of what hapened to Di'Fier earlier.    Unfortunally that part was left out of the story hour so it will not help our loyal readers.


I'm pretty sure it isn't her she didn't use the code word 'jongleur' in her sentance.


----------



## drnuncheon

Left out? D'oh!

Kids, this is why you should not drink and post. Even if it's just Dr Pepper.  I'll go back and add it in.

I suppose the clues are a lot more obvious to those of us here - Dru is the only one who refers to Tensin as 'Papa' (and always does so - except when the player slips up and the other two don't notice)...in fact, that was one of the clues that Di'Fier missed when the fake Dru was talking to him about the message.  Of course, I probably messed that up once or twice in previous episodes.  Ah well, that's what editing is for, right?

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Four, Part Two and a Half: The Letters*

_More eye candy. The image files are about 70K each if anyone cares._

Watch-Captain Donnach slumped wearily into his chair.  _How much sleep do you have to miss before you go mad? Or more probably, fall dead..._  The sun was not yet up - not that it would have been visible behind the constant clouds of the rainy season - and he was back at the Watch Headquarters, knowing that the place would fall apart without him.

He reached for the stack of notes that had been left on his desk, and frowned.  The letter on top was strangely heavy.  As he lifted it, the wax seal broke, and a silver disc the size of his palm fell with a dull thunk to the wood of the deak.  He picked it up, running a thumb over the seal of the city imprinted on it, and then turned to the letter.  He already knew what it would say.







Di'Fier stretched, splashed water on his face, and pulled on his clothes. After two months of working days, he was finally starting to adjust.  Grabbing the oiled cloak from where it hung on his closet door, he started downstairs.

As he passed through the main room of the tavern he lived above, the landlord hailed him.  "Mister Di'Fier," the fellow said. "There's been a message for you.  I hasn't touched it."

Di'Fier followed him obligingly over to the table where the letter had been placed.  "Your partner left it.  She said if'n you didn't opin it in the 'special way' there was pizen."

Di'Fier solemnly nodded, and carefully picked up the letter by the edges with both hands.  The landlord shuffled back a step, and he couldn't help but smile.  "I'll go open this in the hall," he said, walking out of the main room.

As soon as he had turned the corner, he snapped the seal with no particular care, and began to read.


----------



## Thorntangle

Now subbing for Horacio: Great Update!

Wow - A very tangled web you're weaving Doc. Can opened... worms everywhere...


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Now subbing for Horacio: Great Update!
> 
> Wow - A very tangled web you're weaving Doc. Can opened... worms everywhere... *




It gets worse, just ask Dru and Di'fier. 

Now, to answer a speculation from earlier in the thread...since Dru and Di'Fier are not exactly working together anymore, I gave each of them the immensely relieving task of playing the other's cohort. (One less NPC to keep track of!)  So Dru's player will also be taking on the role of Katya, while Di'Fier's player will play the role of Dru's new bodyguard, Ellerand - an axe-spinning elf from the mainland who came over with Galanodel.  I'll put him up in the Rogue's Gallery right after I post this.

But fear not! Dru and Di'Fier _will_ be back together.

Someday.

J
Unless they get whacked first.


----------



## DiFier

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Unless they get whacked first. *






foreshadowing.   or almost at least, see next update.


----------



## Zarthon

I'll say it again: This just keeps getting better and better!!!


----------



## Jon Potter

*And? And?*

Hasn't another game night come without an update to satisfy your ravening addicts - err, I mean fans?


----------



## Zarthon

*Questions?*

Hello Doc, just some questions if you don't mind?

1. How long have you been playing D&D (all versions  )
2. How long have the people in your group played D&D (all versions )
2. How long have you Dungeon Mastered for?

I was just woundering.

I have been playing since 1989, and most of that time I have been DM.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Questions?*

Well, we did have another session...and some very, ah, _unusual_ things happened in it - Di'Fier dressed up as a woman...and Dru turned down a fight!  The plot thickened just a bit more, and our heros earned just enough experience to tip themselves into 9th level.

I'll resume posting on Monday - still not finished with the last session yet! (erk)



			
				Zarthon said:
			
		

> *Hello Doc, just some questions if you don't mind?
> 
> 1. How long have you been playing D&D (all versions  )
> 2. How long have the people in your group played D&D (all versions )
> 3. How long have you Dungeon Mastered for?
> 
> I was just woundering.
> 
> I have been playing since 1989, and most of that time I have been DM. *




Well, I'll let my players answer #2 for themselves, but...

I've been playing D&D for more than half my life. (Good Lord.)  I started with the single-book D&D basic set - the one with the Erol Otus cover of the spear-weilding warrior fighting the green dragon. From there I progressed to AD&D 1e, and from there into other game systems (starting with the TSR stuff - ahh, Star Frontiers!)   Then I got tired of the limitations of AD&D, and headed off to GURPS and similar generic systems. I missed all of 2e, and only came back to D&D when 3e came out.

As for GMing...nearly as long, but I won't admit to some of the stuff I did in my younger days.  Fortunately I have been getting better.

You know, if I would finish Book One you could have seen all that in my bio. Heh.

J


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

As for me, I've been roleplaying since 1993, when I crashed what I thought was a party, but was actually a V:TM game!  After it was explained to me that these people didn't really think they were vampires, I thought the idea was pretty cool, and made up my first character. 

I didn't actually start playing AD&D Second Edition until 1995 or 1996, and played it off and on, mixed in with some other systems.  And obviously, I've taken to playing third edition lately, under the guise of Drusilia Nailo.


----------



## Horacio

Horacio is back!

Now, I can only add "OhmyGod,theseweregreatupdates!"


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Four, Part Three: ...how did I get into this again?*

The girl was dressed in ragged finery - the remnants of a man's shirt and breeches, and a cloth bundle slung over her shoulder. The clothes were hardly more than rags, soaked through from the constant rain, mud-stained and torn - with not a few patches of blood.  The clothes looked as though they might once have belonged to the part of the city that she crept through, but no longer.  Indeed, the girl herself looked much the same - in the condition she was in, it would have been difficult to recognize her as the daughter of one of the wealthier members of the Freeport Merchant's Guild: Vikki Tarjay.

Unless, of course, one knew what one was looking for.  The two pairs of invisible eyes that tracked her progress through the streets most definitely did.

The girl crept along the alley, freezing in place as footsteps sounded from around the corner. She huddled back into a doorway as a squat dwarf stumped around the corner, glancing down the alley and then proceeding towards the main street - walking in a circle around the Tarjay House.

Cautiously, she started forward once more, peering with exaggerated caution around the corner.  Another man stood in the street - huge and muscular, in ill-fitting clothes. As he scanned back and forth along the street, she could hear a strange noise.  It sounded as if he were...sniffing.

The big man took a couple of steps, and sniffed again, then began to walk with purpose towards the alley.  The girl, frozen, stood and watched him approach.

"We bin lookin' all over fer you," he said, and smiled.  His teeth were yellowed, and very sharp.

"What have you got there, Gorshk?" 

The girl spun and ran, but the big man was deceptively fast. His hand closed on her upper arm, and a puzzled expression crossed his face. He yanked her forward and sniffed again. "_It's a trick!_"

Di'Fier yanked his arm free of the big man's grasp and stepped backward, reaching over his shoulder to free the disguised blade.  Pulling it from it's sheath, he struck the huge man and backed away in one smooth motion.

The man shook his head to clear it, and his hands reached under his poncho to emerge with two of the largest axes the Watchman had ever seen.  With a toothy grin, the man moved forward.

Di'Fier raised his blade. _How do I get myself into these things?_ he thought.  It had started when they found the girl.  No, it was before that.  It was when he had met with the rest of the team to tell them of Dru's decision...






Di'Fier looked around at the faces of his team. Quooral's brow was furrowed in deep thought.  Jemis looked as if he'd been stabbed.  Even the normally loquacious Glunnyn was silent. "This...shouldn't change anything," he told them.  Nobody believed it - not even him.  "We're still going to be investigating the murders...and this underworld war."

A knock on the door, and it opened.  Watch-Sergeant T'saagrah, the Watch's sole half-orc, shoved his face into the room. "Captain's back from his meeting with the Council.  Says he nees to talk to everyone."

Donnach was waiting, as were most of the day shift.  The Captain looked out over the assembled Watchmen and rubbed his forehead.

"I'll make this quick.  I'm sure the rumor mill has already been active, but to make sure all of us are starting from the same dock - the Watch-Captains were called to an emergency meeting of the Captain's Council early this morning.  We have been given instructions 'for the good of the city'."  His tone left little doubt what he thought of those instructions.

"The Watch is to devote all efforts to ending the current violence as quickly as possible.  What this means in practical terms is: arrest first, ask questions later.  We'll be making a sweep through the city today to pick up known criminals.  This isn't going to be easy on any of us, and it's going to be dangerous work, so I want everyone in double teams, not just partners."

"Watch Lieutenant Di'Fier, I'll need your team to help coordinate this effort - in the areas of the city that aren't Naïlo territory."

_*Compiler's Note*: The first portion of this update (the "framing sequence") was actually from Session Five.  The events were played out in chronological order, but I decided to do a little playing around with the structure of the story to make things more interesting._


----------



## Horacio

Great great update!


----------



## Jon Potter

*I like it.*

Switching the sequence of events as you have gives the storyhour a much more "literary" feel. Nice job.

Again.


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Questions?*

I started in 89 or 90 with TMNT, one attempt at D&D (2nd ed I think but I'm not sure) was unsuccessful.  So it was GURPS and Shadowrun untill 1993 when it was all shadowrun untill last year when Dr. N intruduced me to 3rd ed.  I ran a short shadowrun session over christmas break but it's been mostly 3rd ed. since Dr. moved.  I think I'm still getting used to D&D


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Four, Part Four: Homecoming*

"Tell Papa that I've come home," Dru said in a small voice, as she stood on the front porch getting soaked by the rain.  She had her bag of arcane books, along with her clothes, under one arm, and the jade statue of Yig under the other.  She saw her old protector's eyes widen somewhat, but he stepped aside and let her into the familiar foyer.  

"I knew that you would make the right decision."  Papa's voice, coming from further down the hall.  He moved towards her, taking in her appearance with a tiny smile.  "Set your things down.  We have some things to discuss," he said.

Dru complied, flashing Kennic a smile as she followed along in Papa's wake, moving towards his office.  He stopped at another door before he got there, however, and knocked.  

There was a brief moment of silence, no doubt as whoever it was pulled himself out of a meditative trance.  The door swung open, and a male elf with dark brown hair stood there, blinking into the light.  He drew in his breath sharply when he saw who it was that was standing there.  "Sir?"

"Ellerand," said Papa.  "My daughter has decided to return to us."  He gestured towards Dru, standing beside him.

Ellerand met her eyes, and nodded respectfully to her before turning back to Papa, raising an eyebrow inquiringly.

"She will need a bodyguard."  Papa looked Ellerand over for a moment, and then smiled thinly.  "I trust that you will not let me down...as I have been in the past."

"Sir, I will do my best.  It is an honor," the younger elf said.

Papa nodded.  "Very well.  Now let the three of us retire to my office."  As the trio walked, he glanced at Dru.  "Your intended is out, doing other things for the Organization, so will not be able to join us.  I'm sure that he will be quite disappointed.  Ellerand came over from the mainland with him, incidentally."

Dru looked over at Ellerand, curiously.  "I see," she said, as she moved into Papa's familiar office.






Behind them, Kennic pulled the younger elf aside. "If you're going to be watching after Drusilia..." He hesitated, then pulled a delicate silver ring from his finger.  "Here.  Tensin gave it to me when I first became her protector.  When you call upon its power, you will be able to take wounds for her."

Ellerand took the ring and slid it onto his hand.  "Thank you."

"May you never need it," Kennic replied. "But I fear you will."






"Daughter, I have a job for you," Papa said, sitting down behind his desk, and gesturing at extra chairs. "You must meet my informant in the Watch and take his report."  He pulled a bag of coins out of his desk, and slid them across to Dru.  "His payment."

Dru swallowed.  She'd always known that Papa had someone in the Watch on his payroll, and soon she was going to find out who it was.  "Please don't let it be Captain Donnach," she thought to herself.  Aloud, she said, "When and where should I do this?"






The morning was still very young, so Dru went out into the garden where she had spent so much of her childhood.  Ellerand followed her, looking ill at ease.

Dru turned and smiled at him.  "You do realize that I'm not a mewling kitten, that cannot defend myself, yes?"

Ellerand hesitated a moment, and then nodded.

"Alright.  So long as you know.  Still.. it will be good to have someone at my back."  Dru sat down on a bench, enjoying one of the rare moments where it was only misting rain and not pouring rain.  

She spent the next hour or so talking with Ellerand about some of the things that she'd done in the past, and about some of the things that were currently going on.  "How's Alust?"

Ellerand frowned, and said stiffly, "I do not wish to offend, but I do not care that much for Alust."

Dru grinned.  "I like you already."  She saw the look of relief mingled with amusement in Ellerand's eyes, before she detected motion out of the corner of her eye.  She glanced over to one of the windows, and saw a half-elf looking out the window at her.  _So that's who Garto was talking about..._ Dru had known that Papa had a female half-elf working for him, so that wasn't what she found surprising.  What held her transfixed, though, was seeing her father's elven features blended the larger, clumsier features of a human.  The half elf turned away, looking very displeased at what she saw.

"Who was that?"

Ellerand glanced up at the window.  "Oh.  That was Amalyth."

"She looks just like Papa."

"I hadn't noticed," said Ellerand, clearly lying.






Dru went to the appointed meeting place early, so that she could get a good vantage point.  It was a small courtyard within the borders of the kesir, shielded from the eyes of those on the main road by a narrow alley.  She stepped back into the shadows, making herself nearly invisible to any casual observer.  She watched the entrance to the courtyard with anticipation.

Soon, a hooded and cloaked figure appeared.  He flashed some sort of sign at Ellerand, who nodded, and let him walk past.  He stopped in the center of the courtyard, looking around.

Dru sighed, and stepped out of the shadows, approaching him.

"Well, well," rasped a familiar voice from under the hood.  "If it isn't the high and mighty Dru Naïlo."  The hood fell back, and Jaffar stood there, grinning at her.  "And here we was all thinking that you couldn't be bought."

Dru narrowed her eyes at him, but only shrugged.  "I didn't work for my father when I was on the Watch.  I do now," she said.

Jaffar chuckled.  "You expect me ta believe that?"

With a shrug of her shoulders, Dru said, "You can believe what you want.  Regardless... it's good to see you, Jaffar."

The Watchman shook his head.  "Things aren't good for you and yours now," he said.  "Captain Donnach called the entire day shift in to inform us of your decision to leave... and also that he'd been called into a meeting with the Captain's Council.   Any criminal can be arrested now, if they're doing anything or not.  They're trying to get them all off the street."

Dru stared.  "That's insane!"

Jaffar nodded.  "Yeah.  I'd lay low if I was you."

Dru nodded, slowly, and then pulled the bag of coins out of her cloak.  She raised an eyebrow at Jaffar, and then held it out to him.

The Watchman took the bag with a flourish, and then grinned at her.  "It was a pleasure doing business with you."

"Right," said Dru.  She stood there and watched Jaffar walk out of the courtyard.






Dru and Ellerand walked down the streets of the _Kesir_, keeping a watchful eye on the place.  Papa took the protection of the elves in his area of the city very seriously, so Dru had made up her might to be extra vigilant.

It didn't take long before the pair could see the figures, standing down the street.  Three humans, standing outside of one of a candle shop.  They did not appear to be there to buy candles or wax.  Dru sighed, and then began walking purposefully towards them.  She bit her tongue to keep from saying, "You are under arrest!"

One of them looked over at the approaching elves, and then pointed.  "Look!  It's her!" All three of them turned to look at her, and then one began to approach, drawing his sword.

Dru pulled her own blade, and watched as Ellerand pulled twin throwing axes from his belt.  And then the battle was met.

She heard the harsh sound of a spell being cast from the one in back, and then Ellerand's axe was arcing above the first two to bury itself in the caster's shoulder.  With a cry he fell back - and Dru charged, slamming her blade into the nearest - a shaven-headed man with peculiar amber eyes.

Meanwhile, the third - a burly man who looked like he'd be far more at home in the company of dock workers that wizards - stepped back, drawing his blade. He raised his other hand, and called out, "Throden sthyr!"  As Dru watched, he stepped to the side - while remaining where he was.  And then both of him did it again.

Behind Dru, Ellerand dove forward. A third throwing axe had been drawn, and he buried it in the bald man's stomach, folding him like a letter. He began to step over the fallen foe, but the third member of the trio reached out with a wand - and the bald man's wounds began to heal.

Dru gritted her teeth. "Even four of you won't help," she spat, and lunged forward, thrusting at first one of the images, and then another.  The first winked out as her blade touched it, while the second twisted out of the way at the last minute.

Her opponent smiled three identical smiles, and uttered another word, causing a blue glow to coalesce around the hand that wasn't weilding his sword.  He moved forward, and Dru stepped back.  She didn't know what the spell was, but she didn't want to be touched by it.

Then Ellerand was beside her, axe flashing - and missing not only their opponent, but all of the duplicates as well.  Dru searched the images, trying to discern the real one, but finally she lunged forward, sweeping her blade through an unresisting image...and was that fear in the wizard's eyes as the blade came so close to another image? She brought her blade back in close and then thrust, her weight behind the blade - slamming it home in the real caster's chest.  He staggered backward, his image merging and resplitting.

Ellerand's hiss of pain drew her attention.  The bald man had finally managed a spell, and Dru could see the viscous green bolt eating its way into Ellerand's side. She started to turn to the caster, but a flash of steel caught her eye - too late.

She twisted away from the blade, feeling it score a thin line across her flesh - and then her attention was taken up by the blue glow of the hand that reached for her.

Ellerand ignored the burning in his side, twirling his axes as he jumped forward to slam one into each of the identical mages. One vanished. The other bled. And a bolt of golden fire slammed into the elf, from the forgotten third foe.  He spun and swung, missing the bald man but spoiling his concentration.

The swordsman-mage that Dru faced wasn't wasting his breath on unnecessary banter. He grinned woflishly and pressed forward, his heavier blade battering at her rapier, knocking it aside...she could feel his touch like ice aflame on her skin, and her muscles fought to avoid cramping.

Ellerand's axes tore a shallow wound on the swordsman's chest and a deep gouge on the bald man - and the third member of the team was there, holding a wand and healing the wounds of the blade-weilding mage.  Thus revived, he pressed forward, slicing into Dru's leg just above the knee, and forcing Ellerand to dance out of the way of his deadly hand - still surrounded in its cerulean glow.

Dru could hear the chanting of a spell - _No surprise there_, she thought bitterly - as the swordsman parried her blow and flung her blade to one side, slicing into Ellerand as he went - and reaching out to touch her again.  Her skin pulled tight as frost formed on it at his touch.

Ellerand stepped away, one of his axes falling unheeded to the ground as he pulled a leather bag from his pouch and flung it sidearm into the swordsman, its sticky innards wrapping around him like an octopus made of glue. Dru took advantage of the opening, plying her sword with great vigor and opening a cut on her opponents forehead.

"Dru! Behind you!" her protector called, and she slid to the side just ahead of the foaming jaws of a hellish rat. _One rat? That's all these jokers could manage?_  But it had done its job - the swordsman stepped across from it, forcing Dru to split her attentions between the two of them.  The tactic worked. He grabbed her arm, and Dru could feel the muscles seize up and grow numb, even as he drew the blade along her side, parting the soft leather of her armor and soaking her side with blood.

There was a deafening _crack_ as Ellerand's thunderstone hit the ground, sending the mages reeling.  Blood trickled from the ears of the swordsman, and his elven opponent gave him a feral grin as she advanced.






Dru looked down at the corpse of the wizard that she had just killed, breathing heavily.  Gods, that one had not gone down easily!  She looked up at the roof, where one of them had escaped to, and then shrugged.  The other two were long gone, unfortunately, and this one wasn't going to be able to be taken into custody... She stopped, and then smiled.  "We are going to have a cleric interrogate this corpse," she said, repeating a threat that she had used as a Watchman several times.  But this time, she meant it.

"Mmm," said Ellerand, looking around worriedly.  "Perhaps we'd better get out of sight.  I think I hear the Watch coming."

Dru blinked, startled.  She hadn't had to run from the Watch before...  "Oh, yes.  Right," she said, picking up the corpse's feet.  "Let's go."  She began dragging the corpse behind her through the rain soaked streets, the downpour of rain washing away its blood trail.

Ellerand led her to a building, and the two elves ducked in, dragging the corpse with them.  It was the back room of a spice merchant's shop.  "It's a safe house that we use," he murmured to Dru.

Dru had the merchant, who was pale at the sight of the battered corpse, write a message to her father, asking permission to go to the temple district for the purposes of interrogating a dead person.  She also told him of where the fight had happened, and with what, in case he wanted to send people.

It didn't take long at all for the message to return.  It was brief.  "Proceed with your plans.  Be careful."



_*Compiler's Note:* Today's update features Dru as a guest author.  Did you notice?  I've taken very few liberties with her text: mostly adding some things the character didn't know...but she also wanted me to write the combat.

As a special bonus today we also have a new magic item:_

*Guardian Ring:* This simple band, while seemingly quite delicate, is made of mithral and is far stronger than it appears.  It allows the wearer to cast the _shield other_ spell once per day.  Many of these rings are tied to particular bloodlines, so that only members of a certain family may be targeted with the _shield other_ effect.

_Caster Level:_ 3rd; _Prerequisites:_ Forge Ring, _shield other_; _Market Price:_ 2400 gp (for an "unattached" ring), 1200 gp (for one limited to a particular family line)


----------



## Horacio

It's bizarre seeing Dru in the other side of the law, isn't it?

Great update, of course!


----------



## Thorntangle

Very nicely written, Dru! I really didn't notice the difference as I was reading. Your style and Doc's are very similar. If ever you play another game, you should write your own Story Hour.


----------



## Horacio

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Very nicely written, Dru! I really didn't notice the difference as I was reading. Your style and Doc's are very similar. If ever you play another game, you should write your own Story Hour. *




She DOES write her own story hour...


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *She DOES write her own story hour... *




Well...she did, anyway...I'm not entirely sure she's going to pick it up again.  Unlike moi, she did not take notes during the sessions, and taking good notes is key to having a Story Hour (at least, I know _I'm_ helpless without my notes...), because otherwise you completely forget what happened - which is the problem she was facing.

She didn't even get to the weird part.  

Anyway, if things continue to go as they have, you can look forward to more Dru writing. I know she's done up the next chunk of Dru's half of Episode Five, and I see no reason to duplicate her effort.   Plus, she's got a dozen or so stories (so far) about Dru's childhood that might make it in somewhere.

J


----------



## DiFier

We'll have to have a remembering session.  then she can write it up as best she can.


----------



## Thorntangle

Dru's story hour - Found it, read it and bumped it.


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Questions?*

Thanks for letting me know, I started playing D&D in about 89, and started being DM in about 93, mostly I have played Dungeons & Dragons, but there was a period of about 2 years where I played/Dm Shadow Run.

So Jaffar is _the Dirty Rat!!!_ hmmm


----------



## Babel

*Three cheers for Dr N...*

I don't normally post on messageboards - in fact, despite having visited EN World religiously (praise Morrus! praise the Great One!) for over a year, I'd never even looked at them here.  Then I stumbled across a link to this thread, and was exposed to the greatness that is the Freeport Story Hour!  Brilliant work, Dr N (though I'm almost certainly going to be stealing some of it for use in my FR campaign)!


----------



## drnuncheon

Zarthon: He's too modest to admit it, but Di'Fier runs a nifty game of Shadowrun.  He stuck us in the Renraku Arcology during the Shutdown.  As high school students.

And yeah, Jaffar is the...er..._a_ dirty rat.  Like he said, half the force is on _someone's_ payroll. (Tensin isn't likely to have only one informant...nor is he likely to let anyone else know who all of his informants are.  And then there's Finn, and Gallowglass...plus the minor crooks...)

Babel: They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and, well, I'm flattered! Let me know what you use and how it works out.

And now, a (short) update.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Four, Part Five: The Missing Girl*

"It's a bad idea," said Di'Fier for the fourth time, as he leaned against the table in the empty building they had commandeered to use as a temporary headquarters.  "We don't have the manpower to enforce it, and it's putting the Watch in danger."

Katya nodded, as she'd done the three times before.  "But it's our duty.  Until that changes..."  

"I know.  It's just...hm." The mage looked out the window.  "Looks like T'saagrah and Antone have caught one."  The girl that struggled in their grasp was young and filthy - probably a beggar moonlighting as a sneak thief.  As he watched, she twisted, somehow slipping free of the half-orc's massive paws and whirling to drive her knee into the juncture of Antone's legs.  The half-elf dropped like a poleaxed steer, and the girl took off at top speed, feet sliding on the muddy cobbles. "She's free," he reported. "But she's coming this way."

With T'saagrah in hot pursuit, the girl dashed for the supposed safety of an alley - but her path took her directly past the door Di'Fier was standing in. He glanced ahead, judging her rate of approach, and then stepped out into the street.

It was too late for her to stop or turn, and she slammed into him with the full force of her ninety-pound body. The impact rocked Di'Fier only slightly, but the girl bounced from him like a rubber ball from a wall.  As she scrambled to her feet, a knife appeared in her hand, and she spun, trying to face both Di'Fier and T'saagrah both. "You're not taking me like you did the others!" she spat.

_Strange,_ Di'Fier thought. _That's not a Drac's End accent..._

"I beg to differ," murmured Katya, gently touching the golden wheel of sheaves that hung around her neck. With a single upraised hand, she indicated the girl. "_Stand fast and face your fate._"

The girl's eyes widened as her muscles stiffened into immobility.

"That's good. Thought she was goin' t'get away this time, too," laughed the big half-orc, as Antone limped up behind him.

Di'Fier tipped her back, and lifted her immobile form. "Did you try to get her earlier today?"

"Nah, 'bout three days 'go.  We nabbed her three friends, but she got away."

"Four girls...three days ago?" Di'Fier asked sharply. "Who told you to grab them?"

"Guy from the Council said they was wanted..." The half-orc scowled, as if he were struggling to remember something not entirely pleasant.

"From the Council...did he show you any identification?" 

They propped the girl against a chair, and Katya began to slowly work the knife out of her hand.

"Nah...but we was all sure he was from the council."  T'saagrah looked over to Antone for support, and the half-elf nodded.

Di'Fier looked over at the girl, who silently struggled against the magical bonds holding her.  He pushed the door closed and motioned the enormous half-orc to stand in front of it. "We'll let you go if you answer our questions," he told her, and then nodded towards T'saagrah and Antone. "And I won't let them take you."

The struggles subsided, but the glare did not. Katya stroked her amulet again, and the girl collapsed into the chair, suddenly released.  She seemed to shrink into it, as if it could hide her from the two investigators.

"Who are you?" Di'Fier asked.

"Vikki Tarjay." Even as she shrank into the chair, her voice spat defiance.  _She's not using it to hide,_ Di'Fier realized. _She's using it like a wall...to protect her back.  But...Arlan Tarjay's daughter? What's she doing like this?_

Now that he took a better look at her, he could see that the filthy clothes she was dressed in were the remnants of a far finer ensemble - men's clothes, but those of a wealthy young man.  As gently as he could, he continued.  "And these two tried to arrest you three days ago?"

"They tried to _kidnap_ us. They got my friends, but I got away."

"Who were you with?"

"Gwenned Lornyk...Kishia Ames..."

_That makes sense,_ Di'Fier thought to himself.  _The daughters of two powerful members of the Merchant's Guild..._

"...and Nifur Roberts."


----------



## Jon Potter

I guess we now know to who that cryptic note was referring. Not that the reasons behind the assault are any clearer, but it is nice to see some of the pieces fall ever-so slowly into place.

A very good tale, indeed.


----------



## Zarthon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *I guess we now know to who that cryptic note was referring. Not that the reasons behind the assault are any clearer, but it is nice to see some of the pieces fall ever-so slowly into place.
> 
> A very good tale, indeed. *





I agree


----------



## Horacio

Things slowly begin to fall in place... Cool!


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *I guess we now know to who that cryptic note was referring. Not that the reasons behind the assault are any clearer, but it is nice to see some of the pieces fall ever-so slowly into place.*




Yeah, I can't imagine what _anybody_ would want with the daughter of a member of the Captain's Council. 

BTW, here's Di'Fier's sketch of Nifur Roberts.  Well, the sketch he drew during the Sea Lord's Ball, which I immediately declared was Nifur Roberts, anyway.


----------



## Zarthon

I waited and waited all weekend 


   BUMP


----------



## Jon Potter

Yes, drnuncheon, where are you?

Holiday weekend or not, you need to get your priorities straight. Storyhour comes first. Always. No exceptions. 

Seriously, though, I am desperately curious.


----------



## DiFier

First problem is that we played sunday nite instead of friday nite, cause I moved this weekend.  Special thanks to Dr. N and Dru for helping me move on saturday.   On Sunday everyone was still tired, stiff and limping.  

Dr. N is probablly still asleep, recovering from the weekend


----------



## drnuncheon

*Delays, delays...*

Sorry for the lack of posting...due to Di'Fier's player moving we lost Friday and Saturday and had a short, low-key game on Sunday.

To make up for the lack of update, here's some eye candy:

The Shipping News (Image approx. 155K) 

Update today, hopefully.

J


----------



## Jon Potter

Thanks for keeping us posted.

And I quite like the Shipping News. I wonder if that ghost ship is related to the current goings-on?

And if I were DiFier I'd be a little ticked off that I wasn't even mentioned in the article about the Special Crimes Unit. Leaderless, indeed!


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Thanks for keeping us posted.
> 
> And I quite like the Shipping News. I wonder if that ghost ship is related to the current goings-on?*




You (and they!) will find out next session...



> *
> And if I were DiFier I'd be a little ticked off that I wasn't even mentioned in the article about the Special Crimes Unit. Leaderless, indeed! *




Oh, he was, he was. 

J
and now, an update


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Five, Part One: Four Questions and a Funeral*

Dru waited just long enough for Papa to send back a message approving her idea to interrogate the corpse of her former opponent before she took off across the city, Ellerand in tow. The two elves kept to the shadows, and moved along stealthily. Dru did not want, and she was sure that Ellerand didn't want, for the mysterious wizards to find them and attack again - or for that matter, for there to be an encounter with Dru's former friends on the Watch.

Despite any misgivings that she had, they arrived at the Temple of the Merchant God without difficulty. Straightening her cloak, she stepped out of the pouring rain and into the sumptuous interior of the temple. 

The thick walls of the building immediately shut out the sound of the downpour outside. Light harp music was being played in the background. A young priest was sitting in the foyer of the temple, and gave Dru and Ellerand a thin smile. "May we help you?" Peering at Dru with more recognition, his smile became a little brighter. "Perhaps you're here to purchase another pack of six curing potions?"

Dru grinned at the young man, and shook her head. "Not this time," she said. "We need to hire someone to interrogate a corpse."

She may have imagined it, but it almost seemed like the harp music abruptly stopped, before starting up again. The young priest blinked once, and then nodded. "But of course," he said. "Please, let me show you to a sitting room, and I'll send someone to you that is prepared to do such a thing."

Dru shrugged, and followed him through the sanctuary and into a smaller room, furnished as a parlor. Sitting down gingerly on the crushed velvet chair, Dru looked up at the young man. "I've never done this before," she said, "So I do not know how much it will cost me. I do know that the person casting it should be willing to leave the temple."

The man nodded, looking thoughtful. "How many questions do you want to ask the corpse?" A few minutes of haggling later, Dru was dragging the equivalent of 350 gold pieces out of her pouch, and was crossing town again with a senior priest beside her.

She led him into a courtyard within the _Kesir_, and shrugged at the priest's expression of distaste. "Perhaps there'll be a gratuity in it for you, since you've had to come so far, and in the rain," she offered, pointing to the battered corpse.  Ellerand took up a position by the entry to the cul-de-sac, watching for any interference.

The priest sighed, and nodded, and then began preparing his prayer. Ten minutes later, he looked over at Dru. "I'm ready for your first question," he said mildly.

"Who are you?"

The priest relayed the question to the corpse, nudging it. 

The corpse spoke. "...i am...Nadir."

Dru shrugged, and continued. "Who or what were you working for when you went into the elven district on the day you were killed?"

Once again, the priest relayed the question to the corpse.

"...the Dragon's Claw," the corpse murmured. 

"Why does your employer wish to strike against Tensin Naïlo and his organization?"

"he is...competition." 

"Why is he competition?"

"...he rules...the underworld."

Dru nodded, and passed the priest another handful of coins. "Please," she said, "Accept this gratuity for your hardship... and for your silence in this matter.  Ellerand, let's dispose of this."






Back at the Naïlo headquarters, Dru sat in Papa's office, Ellerand hovering by the door as if not knowing how close to Tensin he was allowed to get. She leaned forward. "He said that he worked for the Dragon's Claw. That doesn't mean anything to me... does it to you?"

Papa nodded, slowly. "Yes... the Dragon's Claw is the sole crime organization in Highgate. It appears that they are trying to expand. Maybe to seize both ends of the trade route." He sighed.

Dru frowned. "Well, that explains why he thought you were competition."

Papa sat in silence for a moment, then said, "Yes. It also explains why he's also hit Finn, and Gallowglass."

Dru waited for him to say more. When he didn't, she said, "Papa, when I was with the SCU..." she hesitated, waiting for him to make some comment about that. When he didn't, she continued, "We heard on the streets that you ‘had something' on your good friend Torsten Roth."

Papa looked displeased, scowling.

Dru held up a hand, to signify that she didn't really need to know the answer. "Do you think that because of this, he's working with the Dragon's Claw, to have you removed?"

He was silent for a moment. "I would be most disappointed in Roth, were he to prove to be so disloyal. But...it cannot hurt to find out. Galanodel," he said, looking over into the corner, at a chair that Dru had assumed was unoccupied. "You should pay a visit to Roth, just to be certain."

Dru looked over into the corner, surprised at the mention of the name of her fiancé. Sure enough, Galanodel was present, and stood to his feet. He nodded to Papa, and then started moving quietly for the door. He did give Dru a tiny smile as he walked past her, though.

Dru shook her head at him, feeling amused and exasperated at the same time. She hated not being able to see people. She also hated not knowing anything about this man that was was going to potentially marry in a few decades. Turning back, she caught Papa watching her with a glint of amusement in his own eyes, and frowned at him. "So, is there anything else that you need from me, Papa?"

The door shut, as Galanodel exited, and Papa shook his head. "Not at the moment," he said. 

"Alright." Dru stood up, gave him a small smile, and then turned to go. "I'll be around if you need me."

She opened the door, going out into the hall, after letting Ellerand step out in front of her. She was just starting to move down the hall, when Papa's voice called her back. "Oh, Drusilia," he said.

She backed up, peering through the doorway. "Yes?"

One of Papa's throwing daggers hurtled through the air towards her, with the incredible speed that was Tensin Naîlo's trademark.

She was only able to block it at the last moment, as her magic buckler jerked her arm upward to block it. The dagger bounced harmlessly off of her shield. Dru breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Papa nodded to her. "Be sure not to become too dependent upon your toys," he said.

Dru grinned at him, and shut the door behind her. She glanced over at the stricken Ellerand, and smiled to try to put him at ease. "It's good to be home," she said. "I've missed it here."  Ellerand only nodded, and the pair moved down the hallway and into some of the common rooms of the house. Dru was ravenously hungry, and she could smell the odor of food wafting towards her.

A heaping plate later, Dru was sitting at the table, Ellerand eating beside her. She was just getting started, when she heard, "Psst, Dru!"

She looked over, and grinned when she saw one-time lover and friend Ivellimor, with his friends Kalarian and the twins, Adan and Anan. "Ivellimor!"

The small group of grinning elves descended upon her. "We heard that you'd come back. That's great!"

Dru nodded, eating. "Yeah, I turned in my resignation for the Watch early this morning."

"That's great," said Ivellimor, again. "Say," he said, with a mischevious look at his friends. "Do you want to stir up a little excitement?"

She looked at him suspiciously from over her food. "What kind of excitement?"

Ivellimor grinned. "It's a surprise. Give us a couple of hours, and we'll get something together. Meet us at the edge of the _Kesir_."

"Alright," said Dru, nodding. She hoped that this wasn't an ambush of some kind, although she didn't think that Ivellimor would stoop to such tactics.  "So how is my good friend?" She looked up at him, innocently.

Ivellimor raised an eyebrow. "Which one?"

Dru grinned. "The spell chucker."

He pointed to himself. "I'm one of those, you know," he said.

"Oh, right. The one that I don't like. Alust."

Ivellimor chuckled, standing to his feet. "Ah. Well, for some strange reason," he said, glancing at Dru speculatively, "Tensin is upset with him. He's been getting the worst jobs for weeks... I thought it prudent to distance myself from him."

Dru grinned. "I always knew that you were wise beyond your years."






"What do you mean that Papa didn't give you permission to do this?" Dru scowled at Ivellimor, not missing the dark looks that the others gave her. "What if this little preemptive strike ruins some of his plans?"

Ivellimor sighed, leaning closer. "Dru... your father isn't the same these days... I know that he's your father and all, but there's some people that think he's losing his edge. In the old days, he would have hit these people on their first night here, and we wouldn't have had to worry about this. They're picking us off, one by one, and he does nothing."

Dru didn't believe that Papa was doing nothing, but she didn't miss that Ivellimor truly believed what he was saying. That worried her. "Are you sure that he's doing nothing?"

The elves in the circle and exchanged unhappy looks. "We told him about this location that some of them are staying at, and he didn't do anything about it," muttered Adan.

Dru sighed. "I can't go along with this, Ivellimor. I can't do that kind of thing, not on my first day back!"

Ivellimor frowned, and then sighed. "We could really use you..."

She shook her head, and said gently, "Ivellimor, I can't. I won't."

Adan said, "Well, I'm going."

The others agreed, with nods and mutterings. Ivellimor turned to Dru, and said pleadingly, "At least give us half an hour before you tell him anything?"

Dru hesitated for a moment, and then nodded, curtly.

Ivellimor breathed with relief, gave her a sickly smile, and walked away with the others.

Dru watched them go, and then glanced at Ellerand. "I hope that they're not making a foolish mistake. Come on, let's go back."

Ellerand considered, as they walked, and then finally said, "I do not think that Ivellimor has distanced himself from Alust as much as he would like for you to think."

Dru stopped in her tracks, and turned to study Ellerand, face to face. "Why do you say that?"

"Because Alust talks a lot about the same thing. About how Tensin's lost his edge, and his courage."

Dru scowled. "How many people are talking like this?"

Ellerand shook his head. "I don't think very many. Alust is the main one."

After starting to walk again, Dru sighed. She was very disappointed in Ivellimor. Had he lied to her about Alust? What was going on here? She fully intended to find out... and talking to Papa was a good starting place.

After the pair walked into the headquarters, Dru turned to Ellerand. "Will you excuse me, so that I can talk to Papa alone? I want to discuss this with him in privacy."

Ellerand nodded, moving away. "But of course," he said.

Dru smiled at him, and then walked down the hall towards Papa's office. She hated being put into a position like this. Squealer. Insurrection. Divided loyalties. But she was not going to let her loyalty be taken from Papa again. She'd already made that mistake once, and had almost died without making amends. She stepped into Papa's office.

He looked up at her, bemused.

"Papa, do you mind if I close the door? I need to talk to you."

He frowned, perhaps looking worried, but nodded, gesturing for her to go ahead.

With a firm click, she shut the door behind her, and then sat down. She scooted her chair closer to his desk, so that she was sitting directly in front of him. "I hate having to do this, especially on my first day back," she prefaced.  "There are certain people who are going to strike at a location where they know that some of the Dragon's Claw people are staying."

Papa studied her for a moment. "And these certain people would be members of my organization, acting without my orders?"

Dru nodded, watching him.

"Ivellimor," he glanced at Dru, who nodded. "The twins...and?"

"Kalarian," Dru filled in for him.

"Ah yes, Kalarian."

"Papa... they wanted for me to go with them. I went ahead and let them go, but I didn't want to participate. I don't know if this is going to ruin any of your plans, though."

"No doubt, they wanted you to give their actions a veneer of respectability."

Dru nodded, although she hadn't considered that.  Her brows knit. Would Ivellimor use her like that? Surely it was also to do with her martial prowess...although perhaps he was feeling her out as a potential ally against Papa. She looked at Papa, sighing.

"I hear that Alust has been talking out against you a lot lately. He... and Ivellimor and the others, have been saying that you've lost your edge. That you'd have made a first strike against these people in the old days."

Papa looked pained, or as pained as he ever did. "Perhaps at one time I would have," he admitted. "But I have the responsibility of the entire Naïlo organization now."

Dru nodded, agreeing with him silently. She stood up, deciding to leave Papa alone with his thoughts. She was almost out the door, when she thought better of it. "Papa," she said, to get his attention.

He looked up at her. "Hmm?"

"I'm with _you_. Remember that."

He only nodded, and then looked back down at his desk. Perhaps she had only imagined it, but her words seemed to gratify him  She shut the door behind her, and moved down the hall. She was going to meditate, and hope that the last of her wounds would heal before morning.


_*Compiler's Note:* Again, most of this update was written by Dru, with only minor changes from your humble chronicler.  I'm not sure that it ever came up, but the "pack-of-six" curing potions has been a running joke since the early days of the campaign, when one of them (I forget who) quipped that they should get a discount for buying potions of _cure light wounds_ in bulk...the Temple of the Merchant God was so enthused by the idea of a "convenient pack of six" that they do indeed give the pair a (slightly) discounted rate._

*Bonus Material: A Few Notes on the Merchant God*

If the God of Pirates is the symbol of Freeport's past, then the God of Merchants is just as much a symbol of what the city has become: a major center of the shipping trade.  And while the God of Merchants may symbolize the changes in Freeport, the city itself has changed the God - or at least his Temple. 

The temple's unofficial motto is "Everything has its price" - a popular philosophy with Freeport's permanent and transient residents alike, and slightly at odds with the way he is worshiped on the mainland.  The central tenets of the dogma remain the same - the sanctity of contracts and such - but the teachings in Freeport assume a slightly more flexible moral code and an emphasis on profit over all else.

Unlike many other temples of the city, the temple of the Merchant God is not supported by donations and tithes, but rather by providing services to the populace - for a price, of course. These services range from minor magical items to funerals, weddings, and other sacraments.  Chances are, if you're not destitute (and thus under the auspices of the Beggar's God) or a member of the clergy, the Temple of the Merchant is where you will go for any spellcasting-for-hire.

*Alignment*: Lawful Neutral (Neutral in Freeport)
*Domains*: Trade (_FRCS_), Travel, Law (outside Freeport)
*Favored Weapon*: Dagger


----------



## Zarthon

Pack of six - LOL

I hope you dont mind, but I am going to use that 

Cool update


----------



## Seule

I don't think I've ever posted in this thread before, but now I have to.  You see, I've decided to try the sincerest form of flattery.  I've been reading this story hour (among others) for quite a while now, and my last campaign just wrapped up...  so I'm starting a Freeport campaign where the characters are members of the Watch.  Of course, I'm not taking your campaign straight, I've made many changes and no doubt it'll diverge even more rapidly once it gets under way (this Friday), but I was at least in part inspired by you to try a city-based game, where I have only run pretry basic adventuring games before.  You made me think I could do it.
The changes I have made to Freeport are several, including replacing Arcane magic with Psionics, but it'll still be inspired in part here.  I hope it goes as well as yours.

  --Seule, a fan


----------



## Horacio

I still find strange seeing Dru in the other side of the law...

Great update, of course


----------



## Thorntangle

*Re: Session Five, Part One: Four Questions and a Funeral*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Papa nodded to her. "Be sure not to become too dependent upon your toys," he said.
> 
> Dru grinned at him, and shut the door behind her. She glanced over at the stricken Ellerand, and smiled to try to put him at ease. "It's good to be home," she said. "I've missed it here."*



Unusual upbringing you have there, Dru. Sounds a lot like a Clouseau/Cato kind of relationship.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Five, Part One: Four Questions and a Funeral*



			
				Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *
> Unusual upbringing you have there, Dru.*




Congratulations, Thorn...you have just won the "Understatement of Book II" award.

Ask her where she got the scars along her arms sometime...

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Five, Part Two: Life's a Drag*

"How do I look?" said the girl, in a voice far too deep and masculine for her.

"You _look_ perfect, boss," Jemis said dubiously. "Just...don't talk, OK?  You _sound_ horrible."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Katya asked him. 

"It's our best chance to get ahold of one of them, and the only lead we've got.  I just wish Arlan Tarjay hadn't been so frightened of them.  His help would have made this a lot easier.  Ashrem, take this scroll, just in case some of them are wandering around _invisible_."







The girl spun and ran, but the big man was deceptively fast. His hand closed on her upper arm, and a puzzled expression crossed his face. He yanked her forward and sniffed again. "_It's a trick!_"

Di'Fier yanked his arm free of the big man's grasp and stepped backward, reaching over his shoulder to free the disguised blade.  Pulling it from it's sheath, he struck the huge man and backed away in one smooth motion.

The man shook his head to clear it, and his hands reached under his poncho to emerge with two of the largest axes the Watchman had ever seen.  With a toothy grin, the man moved forward.

Behind him, a red-haired woman faded into visibility as she loosed a small leather pouch - but her aim was off, and the pouch struck the side of the building, splattering the goo harmlessly onto a wall. She grimaced, and from behind her came a voice: "Hey, girly!"

Reflexively, she spun into a fighting stance, her hands coming up into a guard position - and looked straight into a scintillating dance of colors that hit her like a spectrum of rocks, sending her staggering.






Two blocks away, a massively muscled man climbed to his feet, picking up the enormous hammer that rested beside him.  "I heard something."

"No, you didn't!" objected the gnome, from the harness he had strapped himself into on the huge man's back. "It's much too early."

"I did."

"Stop! No! It's too early!"






The dwarf huffed something under his breath, and leapt to the top of the iron gate blocking the alley.  behind him, Katya shook off the effect of the _color spray_ and leapt herself, her fist slamming into his kidney. The dwarf pitched forward, his breath shoved out of him by the iron bars, then yanked a vial from his pouch and threw it to the ground.  Katya dived out of the way as it exploded in flames, and the dwarf heaved himself over the bars of the gate.

Di'Fier circled warily, watching the two enormous axes weaving in tiny but hypnotic figure-eights as the huge man watched for an opening. They flashed out in a one-two combination that battered the Watchman back, but somehow he managed to intercept both blows with his blade. His thumbs ached from the force of the parried attack.

Footsteps behind him, and a voice. "What's going on here?" 

Then more footsteps, bigger ones - and a voice, a bigger one.  "Told you I heard something."

A third voice.  No footsteps.  "Turn around, you lummox, I can't see!"

Di'Fier lunged forward, his blade biting into the axe-man's side as Ashrem's arrow slammed down from above.  The huge man grunted under the double impact, and stepped back, his mouth spitting a Word: "Po'caex!" A tell-tale shimmering disc formed in front of him.

_A shielding spell,_ Di'Fier thought.  _What next?_

Suddenly, the man began to change.  His features blurred, twisted...resolving themselves into something less human.  Tusks sprouted from his lower jaw, the forehead flattened, and his ears stretched to a point.  The half-orc's eyes rolled back into his head, and spittle drooled from the corner of his mouth.  His breathing grew heavier, and he hunched forward, muscles quivering.

_I had to ask..._ 

Behind him, he could hear more chanting, and he risked a glance to see Quooral lumbering up the street behind him, hammer in hand - and a volley of green vitrol arcing towards him from the spellcaster behind.  Glunnyn tried desperately to counter the spell, but it was too late, and the gnome screamed as it burned into his flesh.

Di'Fier fumbled with the unfamiliar clothing, pulling forth a scroll. _I hope this works,_ he thought, letting it unroll.  He shouted forth the words on it, directing the energy towards the huge half-orc.

Wisps of magic coalesced like serpents, lashing out to wriggle between the half-orc and his magical protections.  One by one they were ripped away and dissolved - the _mage armor_, the _bull's strength_...but the _shield_ remained.

And now it was the half-orc's turn.  Eyes red with rage, he stepped forward, a single axe whistling through the night air.  Di'Fier struggled to get his blade into position to block it, but with one hand holding the scroll, he couldn't manage in time. The force of the blow smashed him against the alley wall, and he could taste blood in his mouth.

The half-orc grinned, and raised his other axe.




_*Chronicler's Note:* For those of you keeping track at home, that was a *41*-point critical, taking Di'Fier from 'completely unwounded' to 'at death's door, knocking loudly'..._


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Session Five, Part Two: Life's a Drag*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Chronicler's Note: For those of you keeping track at home, that was a 41-point critical, taking Di'Fier from 'completely unwounded' to 'at death's door, knocking loudly'... *




 Wow! 41 point critical 

Great update!


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Re: Session Five, Part Two: Life's a Drag*



			
				Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Wow! 41 point critical
> 
> Great update! *




Yeah.


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Five, Part Two: Life's a Drag*



> _*Chronicler's Note:* For those of you keeping track at home, that was a *41*-point critical, taking Di'Fier from 'completely unwounded' to 'at death's door, knocking loudly'..._ [/B]




Ouch


----------



## DiFier

I of course knew something wasn't gonna go well when Di'Fier was preparing and cast bulls strength on himself and katya cast cat's grace on him and each only gave the minimum bonus to each stat.  

.c.  Dru and I discussed what would happen if Di'Fier died.   Of course now isn't a good time to for Dru to go on a quest, seeing that there is a war going on and she just rejoined her father.  It is good that Katya has gentle repose.


----------



## Krellic

There seems like only one word is needed to describe that post, and the word is... ouch!


----------



## Ruined

I'm taking my chances sliding down here to respond, but I want to just say:  I just finished Book I, and it was excellent!  Now I have to go grab Freeport and decide on where to insert it into my new Scarred Lands campaign. Heh heh.

Book I down.
Book II to go...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Five, Part Three/Session Six, Part One*

*Session Five, Part Three*

Katya began to speak, low and melodious, but penetrating - speaking words Di'Fier could not understand.  The raging berserker before him faltered, and the axe lowered far more slowly than its weilder had originally intended. 

Behind him, he could hear Quooral turn, hear Glunnyn's ragged breathing, and then the deep voice of the genasi telling the sorcerer at the end of the alley, "You are under arrest."  He took a step back, sagging against the wall, and dug a healing potion from his belt as the half-orc started to slink away.

But there was one member of the Claw left, and he was untouched by the spell.  The dwarf studied Katya, raising his sword and then driving it home in her thigh, shattering her concentration on the spell.

Stifling a curse, Katya lashed out with her fist, rocking the dwarf back with a bone-crushing blow. One hand flew to his chest as he judged the strength of the hit, and then he was running as fast as his magically-augmented legs would take him.

Katya limped over to Di'Fier as Quooral made his way up the alley, his hand nearly enclosing the neck of his captive.  "Got one," he rumbled.






"Drusilia."

"Yes, Papa."

"I have a job for you. Come into my office."

She sat down across from her father, Ellerand following like a guardian shadow. She saw her father watching her bodyguard, noting that the young elf was careful even inside the Naïlo home.  Perhaps it was imagination, but she thought she saw a slight smile of approval flicker across his features.

"While I am loathe to put you in the path of danger, the situation calls for a representative who will display my commitment to the enterprise," Tensin began.  "I have decided to propose-"

"- an alliance," Dru finished.  "With Finn."  She sat back, a pleased grin on her face that she had figured out Papa's plan.  His face remained unreadable, and he studied her a moment, as if trying to discern the source of her insight.

"Just so. Finn, Gallowglass, and the dockside gangs. I will be sending an emissary to each, and I have reason to believe that they will be receptive.  Set up a meeting.  Tomorrow."

_ - End of Session Five -

*Compiler's Note*: I didn't realize how short this update was going to be, so I'll just include some of Session Six._


*Session Six, Part One: Question and Answer*

"...so based on everything we've found, it seems as if this Dragon's Claw organization is moving into the city," Di'Fier finished.  "The prisoner won't talk, and he's resisted Glunnyn's magic, but at least we've got confimation that they were after Nofur Roberts."

Donnach frowned.  "Four missing girls? Why haven't we heard?"

"I think they've been told not to talk to us," Di'Fier answered.  "They may be trying to influence the Captain's Council...maybe, I don't know, put their own people on it."

"They're trying to eliminate the competition," observed Katya. "By manipulating this crackdown."

Donnach looked down at his desk, then leveled his gaze at Di'Fier. "Do whatever you have to to make him talk."






"Quooral, ungag him." Di'Fier looked at the prisoner.  "What is your name?"

Sullen silence.

The mage's fist fired forward from the shoulder, slamming into the prisoner's face.  There was a crack, and the chair rocked backwards.  Quooral caught it and shoved it forward.

"What. Is your. Name?"

Silence.

Di'Fier turned to Katya, standing in the shadows. "I was trying to be nice, and not have Quooral hit him."

"I could hit him," the genasi offered.

"That's all right, Quooral. Just wait outside. We'll call you if we need you."  Di'Fier turned back to look at Katya.

The priestess' face was drawn and pale.  She didn't like playing it this way...but the Captain had told Di'Fier to do whatever it took.  "If he doesn't answer," she said, "I guess we'll have to kill him.  The jail's too full to keep anyone else."

Di'Fier nodded, watching the prisoner's eyes move from Katya to him. "That's right.  They gave us a lot of extra powers thanks to the crackdown you and your friends asked for."

The man swallowed. "You can't kill me," he said, but the quaver in his voice gave the lie to his false bravado. "You need to know what I know."

The mage shrugged. "My last partner had a penchant for interrogating corpses..."

"Vagn.  My name is Vagn."

Katya leaned forward.  "Why were you trying to kidnap that girl?"

_Good work, Katya.  Once they start talking, it's a lot harder for them to stop,_ Di'Fier thought.

"We were told to. She was a witness. She was with the one we wanted." Vagn laughed, bitterly.  "You fooled us good."

"How long have you been here?" Katya shot back.

"I - I got into town for Swagfest, with some of the rest of the crew."

"Why are you moving in on Freeport?" 

"It's the boss' big shot.  He wasn't going to advance any more in the organization."  Vagn looked at the two of them and leaned forward. "Maybe...maybe the boss could make it worth it for you guys."

Di'Fier snorted. "I've already turned down Finn."

Like a drowning man seizing at a straw, Vagn leaned forward. "Finn? Finn is small potatoes.  How do you do your magic? Is it in the blood?"

"Mostly books."

"Too bad." Vagn leaned back into his chair.






"So, do we keep him over night?"

Di'Fier considered it. "I think so.  Have Quooral and Jemis watch the door while Ashrem meditates, then put him on guard duty.  I'll tell Glunnyn to make sure and have his mind-reading spell prepared tomorrow, and we'll see what other songs this one will sing."


----------



## Horacio

Excellent work, drnuncheon, as usual. 

I must say that I like a lot the jumps between Dru & DiFier actions...


----------



## Zarthon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Excellent work, drnuncheon, as usual.
> 
> I must say that I like a lot the jumps between Dru & DiFier actions... *




I agree


----------



## Ruined

Ahh, now I'm current with the story. This is a great campaign, drnuncheon!  It makes me a little sad that I'm moving away from a city-based campaign.  Guess I'll just have to live vicariously through Dru and Di'Fier.  =)


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Six, Part Two: "Leaderless?!"*

The door opened slowly, and the pinched face of Alust glared out at Dru.  His eyes narrowed as they went from her to Ellerand and back, but the mage opened the door the rest of the way. "Oh," he said, in a tone that did nothing to hide his distaste.

Dru smiled as best she could. "Good morning, Alust. May we come in?"

He shrugged, turning away.  "Do as you please."  He took a few steps into the room, then turned to face them as the door closed. "What do you want?"

"Do you know where Ivellimor went last night?"

"Ivellimor," the elf sneered, "has proven himself to be a fair-weather friend of late.  I do not know where he is. Nor do I care."

In two swift steps Dru crossed the room, seizing Alust by the shirt and slamming the smaller elf against the wall.  Ivellimor was missing, in danger, and all Alust could do was complain? "He is part of the organization," she said through clenched teeth.

"Put me down!" the mage spat, and pulled his clothing back into place as she released him. "I have no idea where he went."

"You had best stop and examine your loyalties," Dru informed him.  "You are beginning to look suspicious."

"Who are you to question my loyalties?" Alust bristled.  "You, who went off to join the _guard_..."

"The Watch." Dru's lips pressed into a thin line.

A satisfied smirk apprared on his face. "You see?"

Dru raised her chin. "During my time with the _Watch_," she enunciated, "I did my job and nothing else.  I did nothing to hurt the organization."

His voice dropped lower.  "Perhaps not.  But..." and here, a menacing insinuation crept into his tone, "...you certainly hurt your father.  Didn't you?"

"What do you mean by that?" Her hand had balled into a fist of its own accord, trembling at her side.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean."

There was a dull crunch, and Alust staggered backward into the wall, bright red blood pouring from beneath the hands that clutched his shattered nose.  Dru cocked her fist for another blow.

"You..._b-tch!_  Get out!"

Dru flared.  "You're the one that's always talking against Papa!" she snarled.

"Get...out."

Dru took a potion from her cloak.  "Take this, then, and tell me your side."

Alust's eyes glared up at her over his hands, the anger burning through involuntary tears of pain. He spoke slowly and deliberately. "I don't trust you."

Dru turned away. "All right.  I'll leave.  But I'll be forced to assume that your loyalties are indeed compromised, since you won’t even defend yourself."

"You _would_ think that, wouldn't you?" Alust straightened slowly, wiping a blood-soaked hand on his shirt. "And you’re going to go straight to your Papa and tell him, won’t you?"

"You could tell me your side of the story.  Then I wouldn't have to."

He looked contemptuously at her.  "You wouldn't tell it to him anyway.  Now get out."

The door closed behind them, and Ellerand turned to look at Dru.  "You know, I almost feel sorry for him."

"Why?"

"Because he has made an enemy out of you."






_*Compiler's Note:* This is the point in game time where the first issue of The Shipping News I posted was actually published._

"Leaderless?!" Di'Fier spluttered, staring in astonishment at the paper.

Jaffar shrugged.  "You expect accuracy from the Shipping News?  Not in anything but the ship's timetables."

"Ashrem, how's the prisoner?"

"He's a bit upset at being tied to a chair all night," the elf smirked.  "He kept wanting to 'talk in private' to me, so I gagged him again."

Di'Fier nodded. "All right, let's see what he has to say.  Glunnyn, you're ready?"

"Yes, the spell should have no problem working through the door...yes, I can read him now. Just ask the leading questions to bring the subjects to his mind."

Di'Fier opened the door and stepped inside with Katya.  At a nod, she loosened Vagn's gag.

"How 'bout some food," their prisoner grumbled. "An' a chance to stretch my legs."

"Food's on the way," Di'Fier said curtly.  "Are you ready to talk a little bit more about what you're doing here?"

He chuckled. "Some big things are going down," he said. "You'd better be on the right side when they do."

Di'Fier rubbed his chin, deep in thought.  "I hadn't realized that something big was happening.  I have not yet accepted the other offer..."

Vagn leaned forward as far as the ropes would allow.  "Whoever's makin' this other offer might not be around to make good on it."

Di'Fier nodded. "Who's your boss?"

"I told you, I can't tell you that."

"So you can't tell me his name...where to find him, a good place to meet him...can you even tell me the name of the organization?"

Vang nodded.   "The Dragon's Claw."

Di'Fier shrugged, dryly commenting: "Never heard of them.  But...I think we'll release you.  We won't have anyone follow you. Take all the precautions you like.  We'll have to keep you for another day or so, to make thing slook good, but the jails are just too full..." He paused a moment.  "It'd be nice to know where I could meet your boss."

Vagn nodded. "I'll set up a meeting."

They exited, and Di'Fier looked down at his fellow wizard. "What did you get?"

"He's quite happy that you have apparently decided to 'play ball'," Glunnyn reported.  "He doesn't know where the leader is staying, although I got the impression of a rather large man, and a name: Ulric."

Di'Fier walked slowly to his desk, sliding the drawer open and pulling out the list of guests from the last Wizard's Guild dinner.  He ran a finger down the list of names, until he found the one he was looking for: 

_Dragosani, Ilse (Highgate Wizard's Guild) & son, Ulric_.


----------



## Jon Potter

Great job with this storyhour, drnuncheon.

If anything, I'm enjoying Book II even more than Book I. And that's saying something because I REALLY liked the Freeport Trilogy and I'm a sucker for Mythos references of any kind.

This mystery/investigation adventure is thoroughly engaging.


----------



## drnuncheon

Thanks, Jon!  I'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying this as much as I am.  

I don't know that it comes across as much in the story hour as it does in the game, but Book II has seen a lot more character development from both sides - it's definitely moving away from the pulpy adventure feel of the early sessions and into something with a bit more depth.

I think that now Dru and Di'Fier are separated, you can see more of the effect they had on each other when they were together.  That really shows up next session when our heros are reunited to investigate the mysterious ghost ship reported in the _Shipping News_...

J


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *I don't know that it comes across as much in the story hour as it does in the game, but Book II has seen a lot more character development from both sides - it's definitely moving away from the pulpy adventure feel of the early sessions and into something with a bit more depth.
> *




It definitely comes across! And not just with D & D, either (although they both continue to come into their own as characters). Each of the NPCs seems to have much more to them than just a  stat block. I especially like the twists that you've shown shown us with existing NPCs from Book I, such as Jaffar. They seem to be growing and developing very organically, not because of (or in spite of ) PC actions, but regardless of them. It makes the entire city seem much more alive.


----------



## Horacio

Freeport is a living setting, I don't know why but it's not a standard RPG city. And drnuncheon does a wonderful job showing us it


----------



## Zarthon

I agree with Jon, I am enjoying book 2 more than book 1 aswell


----------



## drnuncheon

Just a quick update:

At midnight on Friday, I was threatened with a lynching by my players if I left them hanging for a week on the cliffhanger I used.  Accordingly, we're continuing today, since none of us apparently have anything better to do with our weekends.  Anyway, I thought I'd drop in a teaser for some stuff that's coming up.


Dru and Di'Fier reunite to investigate the "ghost ship"!
Dru's romantic interlude with Galanodel!
A daring rescue in Scurvytown!
Zarthon's messy death! (2nd prize, Coded Message contest)
*Two* issues of the Shipping News!
...and much, much more!


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> Zarthon's messy death! (2nd prize, Coded Message contest)
> *




So whatever happened to the winner of the 1st place prize? ;-)


----------



## Zarthon

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Zarthon's messy death! (2nd prize, Coded Message contest) *




That's me


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

I just wanted to say that we've played the Freeport game all day today, and it was an adrenaline rush!  I won't give any of DrN's plot away though, so you are going to have to bug him to get caught back up on his Storyhour.


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> So whatever happened to the winner of the 1st place prize? ;-) *




Hey, it's easier to work in a messy death.  I've _almost_ figured out how to put you in...

J


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Hey, it's easier to work in a messy death. *




I imagine it would be especially given the events unfolding in Freeport just now.

Take your time, though. I'm just busting your chops. I've already had an impact on the campaign. I'm perfectly happy that two of my cohorts have seen story-time.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Six, Part Three: An Unlikely Alliance*

The restaurant was in the Eastern District - a bit farther from the _Kesir_ than Dru would have liked, but if it made Finn more at ease, she couldn't blame him.  As she studied the place, her conversation with her father ran over again through her mind.  _I will not send my people to scour the city for those who cannot follow orders,_ he had said.  But Ivellimor...the twins...she had known them since she was young.  Ivellimor had helped save her from an assassin's blade.  _How could Papa just throw all of that away?_  She shook her head.  _He must have his reasons.  For now, we've got to focus on Finn._ Straightening her shoulders, she walked into the restaurant.

Finn had reserved a private room in the back, and Ellerand preceded her into it, his eyes scouring the room carefully for any sign that something was amiss.  It was only moments before their host arrived, the muscular form of his lieutenant, Dunbar, trailing in his wake.

"Ah, Miss Naïlo, a pleasure to meet you at last."  Finn's half-smile turned his words into a subtle jest as he offered his hand.  "I must say that your father's request comes as something of a surprise.  Our prior relationship has not been one marked by cordial intercourse."

"He believes that you both share a larger problem," Dru began, lowering herself to her chair even as Finn did the same.  "I understand you've had some trouble with interlopers."

Finn's eyes locked on hers, as if trying to scour her mind to find out how much she knew.  After a moment, he agreed.  "We have.  And I know that your father has had the same sorts of trouble."  The halfling paused as a waiter entered the room, and he rapidly rattled off an order in his native language.  The man departed, and Finn turned to Dru. "I hope you do not mind...I ordered something of a chef's specialty...a traditional halfling dish."  Leaning back, he looked her over. "So.  'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'  I don't believe in that saying, and I have no illusions about Tensin's feelings towards me.  On the other hand, 'the enemy of my enemy' can indeed be a useful ally."

Dru nodded. "Papa has sent other messengers as well.  Gallowglass has been hit by these people, and he's talking to Patch Carty and Bloody Jack to provide some extra muscle."

"The Buccaneers and the Cutthroats?" Finn looked mildly surprised.  "He must believe these interlopers to be a greater threat than I had suspected."

Dru hesitated. _How much should I tell him?_ Papa hadn't saud, which meant it was up to her best judgement. She took a breath, then nodded.  "They're a criminal organization from the city of Highgate," she said.  "They call themselves the Dragon's Claw."

Finn's pupils widened, although he betrayed no other sign of his surprise.  "So...the Claw has decided they want to control both ends of the trade routes.  That is a serious matter...very serious indeed.  I have encountered the Dragon's Claw before, years ago, in my adventuring days."

_Adventuring days?_  Dru looked at the stout little halfling, trying to picture him strapping on a sword and raising havoc in the taverns.  "That knowledge could prove very useful," she said, and opened her mouth to continue, when the door opened and Finn raised a hand.

"Please - the food is arriving, and I dislike discussing business as I eat - it detracts from the pleasure of the meal."

The food was an enormous shared plate of spicy meat layered over vegetables and some sort of bean paste.  Finn showed them how to eat it in the halfling manner, scooping it up with bits of the spongy pancake-like bread that came with it.  The halfling attacked it with gusto, while Dunbar merely picked at the food sourly, muttering something about gas.

After the plate was clean, Finn leaned back in his chair contentedly. "After consideration, I believe it is in both of our interests to form this alliance.  Tensin is a dangerous and canny opponent, but I would certainly choose him over the Dragon's Claw.  Tell your father I agree - we must meet - Gallowglass and the others as well - to discuss our strategy."







"Your father is not here," said Kennic.  "I take it that the meeting went well?"

Dru nodded.  "We're going to have to set up a meeting place - somewhere on neutral ground.  Perhaps the Temple of the Merchant God?"

"That will be difficult, especially if Gallowglass agrees - there's no way for him to get there without passing through our territory or Finn's.  Still, he may be willing - and it's safer than the docks."

A desperate knock shook the door, and Kennic leaned to the peephole to see who it was. Throwing the bolt, he stepped back, hand on his blade.  The door opened, revealing two elves supporting a third between them - hanging limply, covered in blood.  They pushed in through the door.

"We found him dumped in a heap on the edge of the _Kesir_," one said.

Dru's eyes checked the rune inscribed above the door, but it was dark - no magical disguises. As she knelt to look at the wounded elf, she recognized his face with a shock.  "Adan," she breathed.  Turning to his bearers, she said, "Let's get him to a room.  Ellerand?"

Her bodyguard was already digging a healing potion from his pouch as they swept down the corridor.  Dru supported Adan's head as Ellerand poured the liquid down his throat.  His tortured breathing eased a bit, but he did not awaken.

"He's a mess," said Dru.  "Let's clean him up." She carefully peeled the remains of his shirt from him, and then sucked in her breath.

Carved into her friend's back, half-healed from the potion, was a message.

"Tensin.  Do not send your men looking for us again."

It was signed with a curious glyph.  Dru had just enough time to realize that the red of the glyph was the red of fire, not of blood...

...and then the room exploded in flames.


----------



## Jon Potter

*Hard Core!!!*

Very... interesting... surface on which to enscribe a glyph, drnuncheon.

The Dragon's Claw is clearly pulling no punches in this turf war.

Ivellimor better hope he's already dead; Tensin certainly won't be happy with this turn of events.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Hard Core!!!*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Very... interesting... surface on which to enscribe a glyph, drnuncheon.
> *




_Explosive runes_, to be pedantically accurate - and yeah, my evil cohorts and I cackled madly when we came up with that one.  Their dirty tricks aren't done yet, either - not by a long shot.  In fact, they're going to have to fight dirtier as a certain pair just put a major crimp in their plans this past weekend...

J
Er, wait. I have no Evil Cohorts.  Really.  Disregard the above, it was a tpyo.


----------



## Ruined

Ooh, I might have to yank that Rat Bastard technique for my own campaign.  =)


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Six, Part Three: An Unlikely Alliance*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *It was signed with a curious glyph.  Dru had just enough time to realize that the red of the glyph was the red of fire, not of blood...
> 
> ...and then the room exploded in flames. *





Very cool


----------



## Horacio

Wow, that is a good way for a DM to have a suicide bomber against his players...


----------



## DiFier

After reading the description of the writing on Adan's Back Dr. N began reading in the PH.  Dru and I looked at each other and thought the same thing . . . Sepia Snake Segil.   Then the room exploded and we discover how wrong we were.  Dead wrong. . .


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Six, Part Four: "We're going for a little sail..."*

Alust looked over the remains sourly.  "Exploding runes," he informed them.

"It must be a powerful spell," muttered Ellerand, still slightly smouldering.  Strangely, he looked in worse shape than Dru, even though she had been right next to the blast.

"Not particularly.  No more difficult than a fireball." The wizard stood at the doorway, looking distastefully at the charred remains, and covering his face in a futile attempt to filter the stench of burned flesh that pervaded the room.

_Since when is fireball easy?_ thought Dru, as she prodded her tender skin.  _He must really be progressing in his studies._  A moment later, she added, _Or just arrogant._

"Will they be able to follow his body back here?" Dru asked.

"Possibly.  I've got a scroll that will throw them off the trail, but we'll need to get rid of the body before it wears off."

"We can put him into the storm sewers," Ellerand suggested.  "He'll be washed out to the harbor."

Dru scowled. "That seems disrespctful."

"I think Adan would understand."






Dru ran a hand through her singed hair. _So much for letting it grow out,_ she mentally grumbled, then reached for the door.

"Papa.  You've been briefed on what happened?"

Tensin nodded. "You did the right thing, disposing of the body.  We can hope that they do not yet know of this location, but I suspect that if they do not, they will soon.  I trust the meeting with Finn was profitable?"

It seemed like days ago.  "It was.  He agrees to the idea, and wants to meet you and the other leaders."

Ellerand's quiet voice cut in. "We must be careful.  This would be a good place for someone to remove all of the leaders at once - whether that someone was the Dragon's Claw...or the Watch."

Tensin nodded, motioned for Dru to continue.

"He also mentioned that he had encountered the Dragon's Claw before - when he was in his 'adventuring days'." Dru stifled a smile at the very idea.  "That could prove useful."

"Any information could prove useful," Tensin agreed.  "We are fighting a war with an enemy who is almost a complete unknown to us."

Dru nodded.  "I'm not certain if this is the case, but..." she began, then hesitated.  She hated to bring half-formed conclusions to Papa, but he needed to be aware of the possibility. "The tactics and spells that the Dragon's Claw uses reminds me of someone else that we've dealt with.  When we were investigating the missing contracts.  Kenzil."

"Interesting," her father said.  "Kenzil was one of Gallowglass' men, although they seem to have had a falling out subsequent to his arrest.  Thank you, Drusilia."






Di'Fier leaned back in his chair and picked up the _Shipping News_ again, staring at its front page.  "Ghost Ship sighted," he read yet another time, and sighed.  Something was nagging at the back of his mind, and it wasn't just the idea of adventure that a ghost ship represented. No, it was something more.

"What if?" he asked himself.  "What if it were a real ship?  It wouldn't be able to sail into the harbor - not without a pilot, and certainly not in this weather.  But why would they be sailing around out there and not contacting anyone? Unless...unless maybe they already had."  He sat abruptly forward, the chair slamming to the floor.  "Katya?"  He stood, moved to the door.  "Katya! We're going for a little sail..." 






Dru sat down heavily, exhausted from the day.  Her eye happened to light upon the latest edition of the _Shipping News_, and she picked it up.  "Leaderless?  Di'Fier's not going to like that."  But her eyes moved back to the lead story.  _Ghost ship sighted near Milton's Folly..._

Dru knew when something was up.  And something was.  "Ellerand?" She smiled grimly. "Trance this afternoon.  Tonight, we're going for a little sail..."

_- End of Session 6 -

*Next time, on drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour:* How not to buy a boat. "I don't know why anybody in their right mind would be out in this." Rowing in circles. "That's no way to treat a lady." and more..._


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Session Six, Part Four: "We're going for a little sail..."*



> _Originally posted by drnuncheon _*Next time, on drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour:* How not to buy a boat. "I don't know why anybody in their right mind would be out in this." Rowing in circles. "That's no way to treat a lady." and . . . [/i] [/B]




Di'Fier Needs some free time.


----------



## Horacio

It looks promising... 

More, drnuncheon, more!


----------



## paulewaug

Excellent Update!
I can not waite for the next one!

The Explosive Runes were a great touch!
Very _Eevil!_ 

I like the little glimpses the Shipping News provides!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Seven, Part One: How Not To Buy A Boat*

Dru looked across the table at Kennic.  For years, he had been her friend, teacher, protector, confidante - even a surrogate parent for her when Tensin's business kept him away from his daughter.  Now she needed him again, if only for his honesty.

Without preamble: "What does Galanodel get out of this?"

"Out of what?"

"The marriage.  To me.  What does he get?"

Kennic's eyes crinkled. "I assume you mean, besides the daughter of Tensin Naïlo."

"I know I'm no prize, Kennic.  And I won't be a pawn."

The older elf studied her thoughtfully for a moment.  "You always knew that you'd have a political marriage."  When she did not respond, he sighed lightly.  "I'm not certain.  Galanodel performed a valuable service for your father, and the betrothal was what he asked for in return."

The sheer bravado of her mysterious fiancé astounded Dru.  To ask a man like Tensin Naïlo for his daughter's hand..."Thank you."  She rose, then looked back at Kennic.  "I know how Papa feels about this, but...Ellerand and I are going to investigate this ghost ship.  We think it's tied in to the Dragon's Claw somehow.  Let him know if...if something happens."






Minutes later, at the docks, two cloaked figures moved silently to the end of the pier.

"Here's one."

"Good.  Now remember...if this _is_ a ghost ship, they'll just stay in their rooms and wait for you to come in.  The undead are strange that way."

The first figure hesitated, as if unsure, then glanced to make sure nobody was watching before lowering itself to the boat.  The second one joined him, settling into the rower's seat and resting the oars in their locks.  With a few strong strokes, they moved out into the rain-pocked bay.

"I think the rain is slacking off."






Di'Fier leaned close to Katya, murmuring over the slackening rain.  "I don't see anyone that looks like the Dragon's Claw, do you?"

She shook her head, looking around the dilapidated piers of Scurvytown.  "Maybe they're not going out to meet it?"

"Wait."  The Watch-mage pointed. "There, on the harbor.  Looks like a boat.  They must have already left.  We'd better find some way to follow them."

Katya shrugged. "Let's try in here.  Maybe someone has a boat they'll sell us."

Di'Fier looked up at the sign.  "The Bloody Skull..." Nevertheless, the pair forged bravely inward.  As they entered, the raucous bar fell silent, and every pair of eyes (and not a few single eyes as well) turned to the duo.  You could almost hear the word _Watchmen_ clump across the decks of their minds.

"We'd like to buy a boat," Katya informed them.

The crowd parted, giving way to a surly dwarf who looked the two over and sneered.  "Yer wants ter buy a boat, eh?  And who's going to handle it in this?"

"I will," the priestess told him, somehow managing to ignore the snickers that passed through the bar.  Behind her, she could sense that Di'Fier was trying to tell her something, but it was important not to show weakness to this sort.

"Aye, well, come with me, then."

A short walk led them to a pier, from under which the dwarf produced the sorriest-looking boat either of the two had ever seen.  "Now I shouldn' be sellin' this boat," he began, "On account of it bein' a hair-loom memory of me father.  But, as you are in desperate straights, I think me father would forgive me if I let it go for two hundred gold."

Di'Fier looked across at the rapidly dwindling speck on the harbor, then down at the boat.  He shrugged. Despite growing up in Freeport, his knowledge of boats was limited to 'the pointy bit goes in front'.  "It looks OK to me," he told Katya. "All the holes are plugged up by those things, what d'you call them, barnacles."  Turning to the dwarf, he produced a purse heavy with coin, and counted out twenty pieces of platinum.  "Thank you, sir."

Katya smiled sweetly at the dwarf and raised her hand in benediction.  "May you receive the Fate that you deserve."






Bloody Jack, leader of the notorious dockside gang known as the Cutthroats, swaggered back into the Bloody Skull.  "Drinks are on the Watch tonight, lads," he called out, to a roar of approval from his men.  "I jus' sold 'em Patch Carty's boat for two hundred gold!"


----------



## Ruined

*Re: Session Seven, Part One: How Not To Buy A Boat*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *"Drinks are on the Watch tonight, lads," he called out, to a roar of approval from his men.  "I jus' sold 'em Patch Carty's boat for two hundred gold!" *




That is hilarious. I hope I can pull something great like that off against my players.  =)

Good update!


----------



## Horacio

Good good update.

Did both characters failed miserably their Sense Motive roll?


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Good good update.
> 
> Did both characters failed miserably their Sense Motive roll?  *




Neither one asked, actually - I think they were both so desperate to get the boat that it never crossed their minds!

J


----------



## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Neither one asked, actually - I think they were both so desperate to get the boat that it never crossed their minds!
> 
> J *




Mwahahahahaha!

Desesperate players = DM fun


----------



## ShawnLStroud

*Re: Session Seven, Part One: How Not To Buy A Boat*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Katya smiled sweetly at the dwarf and raised her hand in benediction.  "May you receive the Fate that you deserve."
> *




Maybe this is me reading too much into the prose, but it looks very much like Katya "got" it.  I've never read such a double-edged blessing/curse.

Great job on this campaign and the write-ups.  I know from experience how hard it is to maintain the writing while planning next week's events.  In my case, the writing went away.  I'm happy to see that you can manage both -- apparently brilliantly.

Thanks for all the good work; now I can't wait to see how this ghost ship thing turns out!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Seven, Part Two: "That's no way to treat a lady."*

"Ellerand...someone's behind us."  Dru pulled on the oars again, sending the boat sliding through the choppy water.

Her bodyguard looked back. "They're not following us, they're going in circles.  They're probably drunk." A burst of raucous laughter drifted across the water, giving credence to his theory.

He turned back to look for the ship, then scowled up at the sky.  The rain had reduced to a light drizzle, and he didn't like it one bit.  "Call me paranoid, but it's like something _wants_ us to go out here."







"It's not working, we're going in circles."  

They had attracted quite a crowd of onlookers now, and Di'Fier could hear the all-too-familiar sounds of betws being placed - not _if_ they would sink, but _when_, _where_, and _how_.  

Finally, one of the onlookers took pity on them, and shouted, "Yer' facin' the wrong way!"

"...told you."

"Well, how was _I_ supposed to know? _You're_ the one who grew up here.  How am I supposed to see where I'm going if I'm facing backwards?"

"It's the harbor.  There's not that much to run into."

"What was that?"

"Um...a reef. It's OK, the barnacle things are intact."






"They _are_ following us," Dru growled.  "They got straightened out, and they're headed this way.  I don't know why anybody in their right mind would be out in this, even if it _is_ clearing up."

Ellerand forebore from commenting, instead pointing somewhere ahead of them. "I see the ship."

Dru glanced over her shoulder.  This was much easier than trying to row in Black Dog's Cave. "All right.  Let's come around from the other side - if they're watching the city, they won't see us."

A few minutes and one trailing line later, and their stolen boat was tied up behind the ship.

"Pretty solid-looking for a ghost ship," Ellerand commented, sliding a vial from his belt.  Throwing back the contents, he felt his nerves thrum, like a mandolin's just-stroked strings. 

Dru held up a hand. "I'll go up first."  She swallowed the contents of her own vial, and faded from view. The only sign of her presence was the heavy swinging of the line as she climbed towards the deck above.  Ellerand waited until the rope swung free again, then started up himself.






"That's odd."

"What?"

"It looks like they're _sneaking_ onto the ship."






"I wish they would hurry up with the signal."  The owner of the voice was, if not alive, an exceptionally solid ghost - a slender, sour-faced man dressed in robes that had been far nicer before they were subjected to the rigors of sea travel.

"Patience," replied a second man - suave, lean, and with the arrogance of command. "At least we know they know we're here."

Behind them, something far more ghostly crept, an invisible form sliding over the rail and lowering itself to the deck below.  One of the watching sailors turned to glance behind him, but saw nothing.

Ellerand hung from the line, watching for his chance.  Without the advantage of invisibility, he had to time things perfectly...out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of light.  Not from the city - no.  It would be farther along the coast by a mile or two.  Raising his head above the level of the deck, he saw the sailors peering intently at the land.  He levered himself over the rail, crossing the poop deck like a shadow, then tumbling down to land catlike on the main deck.

"There's the signal.  Go rouse Bjorn and call to stations."

The elf's eyes darted back and forth, and he dropped to the deck, rolling underneath the tarpaulin-covered form of the ship's boat.  Around him, he could see the bare feet of the sailors moving about their duties.  His thumb rubbed the silver ring, and he whispered the word to activate it, hoping that Dru was all right.






Katya looked over her shoulder at the ship.  "It's starting to move!" she cried, and the oars slapped the water with renewed vigor...but diminished propulsion.  The boat began to swing about in a stately circle.

"Wait...it's going to go past us.  I've got scrolls of _spider climb_ - we can jump on as it goes past."  Di'Fier fumbled the paper from the scroll tube hanging from his belt, and hurriedly cast the spell on himself and Katya.

Katya peered up into the darkness at the approaching ship. "I think they heard us..."

Di'Fier gauged the distance to the ship.  "Get ready to jump."

"Someone's watching!" she hissed.

"It's our only chance.  Now!"

Di'Fier leapt forward.  Katya followed an instant later, but the wizard's jump shoved the boat from under her foot, and she splashed heavily into the water.

From above: "What the hell was that?"  Another face appeared at the rail, peering down into the gloom.

Katya splashed awkwardly to the side of the boat, her hands magically adhering to the wood.  She levered herself out of the water and up the side of the boat.

"Boarders!" a sailor cried, and there was the distinctive hiss of a crossbow bolt as it shot past them to splash into the water below.  Di'Fier detached one of his hands and muttered a quick incantation of protection, while Katya swarmed up the side and over the rail, landing boldly on the deck.  "Identify yourselves," she informed the sailors, "or you are under arrest."

The sailors looked at each other in momentary confusion.  "Harbor patrol?" one said. The other, not given to such flights of thought, drew his cutlass and raised it.  "You'll be sorry you boarded us, missy," he said - and then crumpled to the deck in a fountain of blood.

Behind him, Dru coalesced from the shadows, pulling her blade free of his ribcage. "That's no way to treat a lady," she informed him, but it was too late for the advice to be of much use in this life.  She looked to his companion, raising her blade to a guard...and smiled.

_*Next time, on drnuncheon's Story Hour:* Boots to the head. How to clear a deck of unwanted rabble.  "Get them, they can't have many spells left!" And more..._


----------



## Horacio

DiFier needs a fast lesson on boats and boarding actions...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Seven, Part One: How Not To Buy A Boat*



			
				ShawnLStroud said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Maybe this is me reading too much into the prose, but it looks very much like Katya "got" it.  I've never read such a double-edged blessing/curse.*




It was perfect, wasn't it?  I wish I had thought of it.  She didn't know the boat wasn't his, but she was darn sure he was ripping them off. (And how! Four times the price for a boat like that?  I was surprised when they payed it without a peep, and Bloody Jack wandered off thinking "I should have asked for more money".)

As for the updating and planning...well, I have a lot more free time than I'd like at the moment.  When I rejoin the ranks of the gainfully employed things might slow down a little.  Right now I'm roughly 1 1/2 sessions behind - of course, one of those is a triple length session, and there's another tonight...big things afoot, too. I may need to change my .sig again...

Hey, how about some more eye candy?  Another issue of the Shipping News perhaps? Sure, why not!

J


----------



## Thorntangle

Arrr... Pirate Action! Did you and the crew celebrate Talk Like a Pirate Day ?


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Arrr... Pirate Action!*




Dru: You're a pirate.
Captain (_offended_): I'm a _smuggler_!



			
				Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *
> Did you and the crew celebrate Talk Like a Pirate Day ?
> *




I said "ahoy" a few times, and maybe an "avast", but other than that, no.  I couldn't talk Dru into going to Long John Silver's, either. (Maybe it was the eyepatch?)

J


----------



## ShawnLStroud

*Re: Re: Re: Session Seven, Part One: How Not To Buy A Boat*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *It was perfect, wasn't it? *




Yes, it was!  And, as a testament of your writing skills, I now wonder what will happen to Bloody Jack... if he, indeed, will receive what he deserves.


----------



## DiFier

Horacio said:
			
		

> *DiFier needs a fast lesson on boats and boarding actions...  *




Actually Katya just rolled really poorly on her jump roll (like 12 lower than mine).  I'm not sure why Dr. N blamed it on me.  just for story's sake?  But I do need to learn how to row a boat.  

Dr. N forgot the bit where I told bloody jack that we needed the boat to train the new Watch Harbor Patrol.


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Actually Katya just rolled really poorly on her jump roll (like 12 lower than mine).  I'm not sure why Dr. N blamed it on me.  just for story's sake?*




Mostly I was looking for a reason that you would have easily made the jump, and Katya wouldn't...so I figured that the boat moving unexpectedly would be a good explanation for a low roll.



			
				DiFier said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Dr. N forgot the bit where I told bloody jack that we needed the boat to train the new Watch Harbor Patrol. *




I need to learn to write faster.  (I think a tape recorder would drive me bonkers tho.)



			
				ShawnLStroud said:
			
		

> *
> 
> And, as a testament of your writing skills, I now wonder what will happen to Bloody Jack...
> *




I can't take any credit for that - it was all Dru's player, when she was being Katya.  Chilling, really, to see the steel beneath that pleasant Lawful Good exterior - and quite the reminder that "good" doesn't always equal "nice".

J


----------



## Horacio

I agree, all this adventure is a perfect example of good != nice...
I love it!


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Hey! Dru's not good  _or_ nice! But she is better than those other guys.


----------



## DiFier

Well You ever have one of those days? Last night You saved the world and now all you had to do was mop up the remaining bad guys whose plans were foiled.  Then in the morning They kick you in the face (hard) and you have to start again from square 2? (not quite starting from scratch)  Plus you can't bask in the glory that is being a hero because . . . .  well I don't want to give any thing away.   This was just a little preview of whats to come.  Friday's game was the Emprie strikes back of our trilogy.  

John


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Seven, Part Two: "Surrender, or I slit her throat."*

_*Compiler's Note*: Sorry for the late update, folks, but I got called for a short-term emergency consulting gig today, which will continue for tomorrow at the very least.  My bank account thanks you for your patience._

Ellerand could hear the voice of one of the crewmen, and pounding on the door - and Dru's voice, somewhere aft.  He tightened his grip on his axes as he lay under the overturned boat - waiting.  The boots of the heavyset man stepped closer...closer...

The elven bodyguard lashed out, hooking the man's heel with the head of his axe and pulling.  An oath, and the man stumbled but did not fall.  Ellerand scuttled back to the other end of the boat, ready to roll out and make a break for it.

He could hear them heading towards the boat, and lashed out again, feeling his axe connect with an ankle. Then he lifted himself up into the boat, as a pair of cutlasses slashed and jabbed blindly along the deck.






"You had the same idea I did..." A grin spread over Di'Fier's face as Dru vaulted the bowsprit to drop the other crewman threatening Katya.  He drew his sword over his shoulder and spoke the words that sent magical strength pulsing through his muscles.  The sheer energy of being reunited with his old partner seemed to fuel the spell, pushing it to its limits, and the mage relished the feeling of power as he raised his blade.

Armed men had begn to pour out of the cabin below him, and they were headed to the raised deck he stood on.  Katya stood at the top of the ladderlike stairs, but she looked as if she could use a little help.  Another mystic word, and a trio of eldritch bolts spiralled forth to slam into three of the men on deck.

For her part, Dru looked over the railing to see that one of the armed men was below. "Hey! Sailor boy!" she called, and as he looked up, she smiled, and dropped a tanglefoot bag on him.  His look of confusion turned to rage as the sticky strands glued him to the deck.

Di'Fier surveyed the rest of the deck.  A marine's head snapped backwards as Katya's foot impaced his chin...more sailors descending from their places in the rigging to repel the boarders...and a cluster of peopel aroudn the boat.  _What are they doing?_

His answer came as an axe-wielding elven form rolled into view from under the boat, neatly dodging past a surprised marine and sprinting for the edge of the boat. One of the hatchets was left behind as he grabbed the end of a coiled rope ladder and spun to face the sailors.

_I guess Dru brought backup,_ he thought - and then winced as a massive sailor with a knife strapped to the stump of his wrist feinted, and then sliced the elf's leg with his sword. _Too bad she didn't choose Galanodel..._






Dru saw Ellerand, held at bay against the rail of the ship.  _Di'Fier and Katya can take care of this deck,_ she thought - but then movement on the deck caught her eye.  One of the crewmen was pointing something at her - and although she had no idea it was, she was sure she didn't want to be where it was pointing. _Noplace else to go,_ she thought, and vaulted over the railing.

Smoke and fire burst forth from the end of the weapon, and she felt something fly past her face at high speed.  Then her boots were slamming into the head of the tangled mercenary below her, knocking him to the ground. 

Behind her, she could hear Di'Fier shouting in the language of the arcane, and an invisible battering ram slammed down along the deck, sending her attacker and another crewmen sprawling, and folding a third unnaturally at mid-thigh, crumpling him in the midst of a splintered swath of deck.

Then the crew was upon her.  Still recovering from her leap, her guard was down, and one of the blades cut deep into her ribs - but then the pain lessened, and she batted the blades away.  _No time to wonder about it now,_ she thought.






The pain of Dru's wound burned across Ellerand's side like fire, and hot blood soaked into his shirt. He risked a glance over at her, saw her fighting off several crewmen - and then, the sticky strands of a spiderweb covered the deck above her, snarling both Dru and the red-haired woman and nearly doing the same to the sword-weilding mage.  He batted the one-handed man's blade aside and threw himself backwards, one hand still holding the rope ladder.

He stopped with a bone-wrenching jerk just inches above the surface of the sea, slamming him into the side of the ship, making his head ring. He fumbled his axe back into the leather loop that carried it, and reached behind him to his belt.

Above him, he heard the voice of the captain: "Cut the ropes, you idiot!"






Di'Fier threw himself to the side as the sticky strands coalesced from the air around him.  Looking along the web, he could see it had been placed well - catching both Dru and Katya. _Change in plans - I think we need to remove the mage now,_ he thought to himself, and began calling his newest spell to memory.  _This should even the odds._

A jagged sphere of ice coalesced before his outstretched hand and streaked to the back of the ship like a frozen meteor.  The _ice burst_ detonated on the wall leading to the rear cabins, splintering wood and sending chunks of ice scything across the deck, sweeping it nearly clean of opposition.  He watched in satisfaction as the spell's effect ended just inches from his former partner - and then scowled when he realized that the opposing mage was still standing.  And casting a spell.

Blackness seeped in on the edges of Di'Fier's vision, and he shook his head to clear it, fighting the effects of the dweomer.  "Not this time," he growled, vaulting over the railing.  Even as he impacted the deck, he was calling out the words of his spell, and time slowed around him.

He could see the wizard's expression changing as he charged across the deck, hear the oddly deepened voice cry out in dismay - and then be cut short by four and a half feet of steel and a channeled icy spell. Behind him, he heard the all-too-ironic words of the captain:  "Get 'em! They can't have many spells left!"






Ellerand swung from the rope ladder, pulling free the thin cable that he had looped over his shoulder.  Above him, the knife-handed sailor's blow had sliced through one of the rope ladder's supports, and he flung the light grapnel desperately, watching it arc upward and catch on the aft railing - just in time, as the second rope parted, and he swung away, boots skimming the waves.

Suddenly, his skin blazed, as if he were aflame - and then pain stabbed through him, nearly dropping him to the water below.  _What is she doing up there?_ he thought, as he felt the hot blood oozing into his clothing.

He threw his arms over the railing and heaved himself onto the poop-deck.  The sailor manning the tiller moved warily to place the length of wood between himself and the elven warrior, but Ellerand took the moment's respite to swallow a potion of healing and look out across the deck.






Dru dove across the deck, the still-smouldering embers of the magical web trailing from her limbs.  She hadn't expected burning herself out to be _that_ successful, but she was free - at some cost.

_I'm just not meant to have long hair,_ she thought, her hand reaching for the strange weapon the sailor had fired at her. It fell into her hand, and she looked at it a moment.  _Like a crossbow, I expect,_ she thought, and leveled it at the captain, pulling the trigger.

Again.

And again.  The click of the mechanism was the only sound.

The captain gave a feral grin, and laid his blade alongside Katya's throat.  "Surrender!" he bellowed. "Or I slit her throat!"


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Session Seven, Part Two: "Surrender, or I slit her throat."*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *The captain gave a feral grin, and laid his blade alongside Katya's throat.  "Surrender!" he bellowed. "Or I slit her throat!" *




Oh oh oh... 
That IS an evil cliffhanger...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Seven, Part Two: "Surrender, or I slit her throat."*



			
				Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Oh oh oh...
> That IS an evil cliffhanger... *




That?

You ain't seen _nothin'_ yet...

J


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Re: Re: Session Seven, Part Two: "Surrender, or I slit her throat."*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> That?
> 
> You ain't seen nothin' yet...
> 
> J *




You're an evil man...


----------



## Thorntangle

*Re: Session Seven, Part Two: "Surrender, or I slit her throat."*

Doc, great cliffhanger! Finish up that project quick.


			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *I guess Dru brought backup, he thought - and then winced as a massive sailor with a knife strapped to the stump of his wrist feinted, and then sliced the elf's leg with his sword. Too bad she didn't choose Galanodel...*



Is this something like jealousy? Or am I missing another motive for him wishing Galanodel was there taking wounds?


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Re: Session Seven, Part Two: "Surrender, or I slit her throat."*



			
				Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Is this something like jealousy? Or am I missing another motive for him wishing Galanodel was there taking wounds? *




While I don't remember saying this (it could Be Dr. N adding stuff to make a fight more interisting) If Di'Fier thought this he was just remembering Galanodel's fighting ability.  Maybe Dr. N is adding a undertone for some fun . . . but I think that you are reading too much into this, but Dr. N will have to elobroate.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Re: Session Seven, Part Two: "Surrender, or I slit her throat."*



			
				DiFier said:
			
		

> *
> 
> While I don't remember saying this (it could Be Dr. N adding stuff to make a fight more interisting) If Di'Fier thought this he was just remembering Galanodel's fighting ability.  Maybe Dr. N is adding a undertone for some fun *




It was me adding stuff - and yeah, it was basically because Galanodel kicks nine kinds of hinder, and Ellerand was, rolling, ah, less than spectacularly at that point.

J


----------



## Thorntangle

*Re: Re: Re: Re: Session Seven, Part Two: "Surrender, or I slit her throat."*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *It was me adding stuff - and yeah, it was basically because Galanodel kicks nine kinds of hinder, and Ellerand was, rolling, ah, less than spectacularly at that point.*



Gotcha. I guess I'm always on the lookout for non-existent drama.


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Seven, Part Two: "Surrender, or I slit her throat."*



> _Originally posted by drnuncheon _The captain gave a feral grin, and laid his blade alongside Katya's throat.  "Surrender!" he bellowed. "Or I slit her throat!"




You gotta love this kind of cliff hanger


----------



## Krellic

Unless you're Katya I suppose...


----------



## drnuncheon

*drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour takes a vacation*

No game tomorrow, and no updates until Monday...we fly out to beautiful Kansas City, MO (via Atlanta, GA...don't ask why) to watch Dru's brother get married (and to hope the weather holds, because it's outdoors...again, don't ask why).

Yeah, I know, I need a laptop or something.

Updates will probably resume a more regular schedule next week, as will play.

J


----------



## Esiminar

*Re: drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour takes a vacation*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *and no updates until Monday*




Aaaaarrgh!!!!

Nooooooo!!!!


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Well, we survived my brother's wedding, and are back in Pittsburgh, so you can start bugging DrN for updates again.


----------



## Horacio

/Horacio bugs DrN for updates


----------



## Jon Potter

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *... so you can start bugging DrN for updates again.  *




How about bugging YOU to finish off your story hour.

I have not forgotten.


----------



## DiFier

Di'Fier bugs Dr. N


----------



## Esiminar

A graceful bug for a gracefully told story


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Okay, since DrN isn't updating, I'm going to update for him.  Ready?  Here goes...

Dru and Di'Fier kicked the bad guys around, and saved Freeport. Afterwards, over ales at the tavern, they accidentally ascended into godhood.  They are currently selecting their domains and their followers.  The End.

How'd I do?


----------



## drnuncheon

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *Okay, since DrN isn't updating, I'm going to update for him.  Ready?  Here goes...
> 
> Dru and Di'Fier kicked the bad guys around, and saved Freeport. Afterwards, over ales at the tavern, they accidentally ascended into godhood.  They are currently selecting their domains and their followers.  The End.
> 
> How'd I do?  *




Hmm. Batting about .500, actually...

...but which half is true?

I _will_ return to dnFSH, gentle readers - I'm just working on a project with a deadline. (A past due deadline which has been kindly extended!)  In the meantime, if you haven't already, go check out drnuncheon's *Other* Story Hour (dnOSH), which has actually been updated since it doesn't take nearly as long as writing this one...

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Phew!*

I finished off my writing project last night (any readers going to Con-Fusion in British Columbia? Anyone playing Living Arcanis?) and it did not make my editor scream and bleed from the eyes, so all is well.  You know what that means...yes, I'm back to the Freeport Story Hour!  Finally!  And I should have plenty of time to update and then plan for the next session...

...wait...

...what do you _mean_ it's Friday already?!

J


----------



## Thorntangle

Thank goodness that pesky work is over and we can get back to the real stuff of life. Good to have you back, drnuncheon. 

BTW - there is this issue of a fairly large cliffhanger that needs your attention immediately. From one writing assignment right into another. You have Carpal Tunnel Syndrome yet?


----------



## Zarthon

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *Okay, since DrN isn't updating, I'm going to update for him.  Ready?  Here goes...
> 
> Dru and Di'Fier kicked the bad guys around, and saved Freeport. Afterwards, over ales at the tavern, they accidentally ascended into godhood.  They are currently selecting their domains and their followers.  The End.
> 
> How'd I do?  *




Now that sounds like fun


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Seven, Part Four: The Mysterious Cargo*

Katya's eyes narrowed, focusing on the captain - but her words were directed at her companions - and soft as they were, they carried across the deck:  "Don't. You. Dare."  The priestess threw herself backward in the web, and the Voice of Fate issued from her lips: "*Surrender.*"

It takes a strong man to defy the word of a god, but it seemed the Captain was such a man - or at least, he could discern between the voice of a god and the voice of its servant. His blade lashed out, but his momentary hesitation allowed Katya to twist away, and the blade opened a bloody furrow on her shoulder rather than a killing blow on her neck.

Di'Fier gestured, shouted, and a ball of flames erupted behind the Captain as he charged again across the deck. With a step, Dru was besinde him, battering aside the blade of the knife-handed crewman and wounding him deeply. Then the captain came sailing down the steep stairs to slam into the deck, the mark of Katya's boot red on his face.  Di'Fier raised his blade, but the captain held up an empty hand.

"We'll not be harmed more if we surrender?"

Di'Fier kept the blade upraised in silent threat.  "Not at all."

The Captain's sword fell to the deck.  "Very well.  We surrender."






Dru looked at the Captain, who sat tied to a chair, and her face soured.  "Why would you work for them?" she wondered.

Her answer was a slight shrug.  "Their gold's as yellow as anyone else's," he said.

"What were you bringing them?"

The Captain remained silent.

"If you don't tell me, I'll kill you."

A snort. "That's not very honorable.  Your friend gave me his word we wouldn't be hurt."

"What do you know about honor?" Dru shot back. "You're a pirate."

"I'm a _smuggler_!" the Captain objected.  There was a long silence, and he looked away.  "They'd kill me anyway."

The elf shrugged. "Then I'll protect you."

The Captain looked at her for a long moment, appraising her.  "You say what you think will get you the answer you want.  I'll not trust someone who's so willing to make her friend into an oathbreaker."

Dru left in silence.






A single lantern swinging from a hook in the ceiling send strange shadows spinning across the ship's hold. It was stacked full: bolts of silk piled along the aft bulkhead, casks lashed to port and starboard.  Some sloshed from the liquid within, while others sounded tantalizingly full.  It was the work of several long minutes to haul a few of them out to the center of the hold, where the lids could be pried open.

Dru levered the wooden disc out of the way with her dagger, and stared in amazement at the contents of the cask.  Reaching into it, she withdrew a small object and held it up to the dim light of the lantern.

Di'Fier's brow furrowed as he looked as well.  

"Lavender soap?"






The Captain rubbed his wrists where they'd been tied, as Di'Fier sheathed his dagger and leaned against the bulkhead.  

"Since you haven't been in the city, you don't know what's been going on - but we're allowed to arrest anyone suspected of being involved with criminal activities.  Arrest first, ask questions later," the mage began.  "But, if you cooperate, we'll overlook that.  Now. Who on this ship was a member of the Dragon's Claw?"

The Captain's eyes studied the planks of the deck.  "None of 'em.  They're all my men - we were hired to make the shipment, that's all."

Dru wandered about the room, forcing the Captain to twist in his chair to keep an eye on her.  "I'm trying to figure out what people invading the city would want with silk and soap."

The Captain, deadpan:  "Maybe they don't want to look and smell bad."

Di'Fier surpressed a smirk, while Dru took a different tactic.  "You know we're not going to let you deliver the goods.  Why don't you cooperate?"

"If I do, we're finished as smugglers - nobody would trust us," the Captain told her.  "We are anyway," he sighed, shoulders slumping.  "There's not enough of us left to crew the ship."

"If you had trouble," Dru began.  "Trouble finding backers...you could always smuggle for us.  We can get a crew for you in the city."

"Us?" The Captain studied the elf, scowling.

"My name is Drusila Naïlo.  Tensin Naïlo is my father."

The man's pupil's widened, but he betrayed no other sign of surprise. "I thought you were with the watch."

"Times change.  Do we have a bargain?"






The aft walls of two of the cabins proved to hold hidden panels that could be removed, revealing small, closetlike rooms - hardly enough space to smuggle large quantities of anything, but for items that were valuable as well as small...

Di'Fier moved into the room, pulling out one of the bundles, wrapped in oilskin.  His fingers moved on the laces, and he unrolled it there on the cabin floor, revealing sleek shapes of wood and oiled steel: strange fire-weapons that were twin to the one Dru still had shoved through her belt.

Dru knelt and picked one of them up, turning it over in her hands.  "They're like some kind of alchemical crossbow," she said.  "I could feel the bolt - or whatever it was - fly past my head.  It was too fast to see." She set the thing down carefully and rocked back on her heels.  "My buckler didn't even try to block it," she said slowly.  "That's never happened before."

Di'Fier began pulling out the other bundles - seven more all told.  The weapons ranged in size from chin-high on Dru, to small enough to fit in a pocket.  "Not quite enough to outfit an army," he said, looking over the assembled ironwork, "but enough to cause a problem."

A search of the other room revealed a half-score casks of a gritty sulpherous powder, a collection of variously-sized leaden balls, and the molds and tools to make more.  Di'Fier held up one of the balls speculatively.  "Like a sling bullet.  Except much, much faster."  _And apparently,_ he thought, _able to bypass magical protections.  No wonder the Claw wants them._  "We'd better get them back to the city, then."






The wagon creaked down the deserted streets, its driver reveling in the unexpected lack of rain. The old nag pulling the cart seemed happy with the situation too, and even tossed her head and picked up her feet a bit.

As the wagon rattled down the docks, the driver could see a figure waiting for him - sitting on top of a stack of...whatever he'd been sent here to collect.  He reined the horse in, set the brake, and grinned as the Watch-Lieutenant stood up.  "Morning," the driver rasped.  "Great weather, huh?"

Di'Fier nodded. "Good to see you, Jaffar.  Let's get these loaded."

The Watch-Sergeant hopped down and flipped open one of the bundles.  "What the heck are these things, anyway?"  Then the oiled canvas was thrown back over the blued steel, and Di'Fier looked sternly down at him. 

"They're some kind of weapon.  Keep quiet about them," the mage warned.  "The Claw was importing them."

"Yeah, okay, okay."  Jaffar began muscling the casks into the wagon.  Soon all five were loaded, the four bundles of mysterious weapons nestled beside them.  "Is that everything?"

Di'Fier was silent for a long moment, then nodded.  "Yeah, that's everything.  Let's go."

_- End of Session 7 -_


----------



## Zarthon

Oooo, Guuunnnssssss


----------



## Horacio

Wonderful!

Guns! Guns!


----------



## drnuncheon

Ah yes, guns.

It was kind of funny.  Both Dru and Di'Fier thought independently..."maybe we should just sink them in the harbor".  As you can see, they didn't - and the consequences of their decision will have a profound effect on them...and potentially the city of Freeport.

J

Did that sound dire? It was supposed to sound dire...


----------



## ShawnLStroud

*Re: Session Seven, Part Four: The Mysterious Cargo*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Soon all five were loaded, the four bundles of mysterious weapons nestled beside them. "Is that everything?"
> 
> Di'Fier was silent for a long moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that's everything. Let's go."
> *




Heh.  Looks like the Nailo family got some new toys.  I'd have loved to see the scene where Dru and DiFier work *that* out. 

As always, Dr. N., great job -- I especially liked the scene interrogation scene with the smuggler captain.  Looks like Dru miscalculated in her tactics; while DiFier's approach made all the difference.  

My question for Dru and DiFier:  How *did* you work out the (I presume) illegal transfer of firearms from DiFier's custody to Dru's; assuming I'm correct and 3 bundles of guns went home with her?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Seven, Part Four: The Mysterious Cargo*



			
				ShawnLStroud said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Heh.  Looks like the Nailo family got some new toys.  I'd have loved to see the scene where Dru and DiFier work that out.
> 
> As always, Dr. N., great job -- I especially liked the scene interrogation scene with the smuggler captain.  Looks like Dru miscalculated in her tactics; while DiFier's approach made all the difference.
> 
> My question for Dru and DiFier:  How did you work out the (I presume) illegal transfer of firearms from DiFier's custody to Dru's; assuming I'm correct and 3 bundles of guns went home with her? *




Ah! I was wondering if someone would notice me being all subtle like.  Actually, it was 4 bundles of guns and 5 casks of black powder to each. And it was quite simple, really - they called her wagon before they got ahold of the Watch.

There really wasn't that much to 'work out' about it, though.  Both of them decided on an even split without even thinking about it.

That session was really interesting to watch, as Dru and Di'Fier - even though they were on separate sides of the law at that point - just fell back into the old partnership again without even thinking about it.  Old habits die hard, and this one provided a vital link that the Claw...well, I'm getting ahead of myself.

J


----------



## Horacio

You're a bad evil tesing man!


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *You're a bad evil tesing man! *




I guess I'd better post an update, then.

But first, this space reserved for an Interlude (by Dru), as she has a heart-to-heart with her fiancé.

And oh yes...

*Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Council Deadlocked on Drac Succession!  
Serpent Creatures Sighted in Old City! Shipping News, only tuppence!*

[edit: fix broken url]


----------



## Thorntangle

*Re: Re: Re: Session Seven, Part Four: The Mysterious Cargo*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Old habits die hard, and this one provided a vital link that the Claw...well, I'm getting ahead of myself.*



I guess the Claw is still having them surveilled. Interesting - I wonder what the Nailos and the Watch will do with their new toys. Gunfight at the Orc Corral?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Re: Re: Session Seven, Part Four: The Mysterious Cargo*



			
				Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *
> I guess the Claw is still having them surveilled. Interesting - I wonder what the Nailos and the Watch will do with their new toys. *




So far, all they've managed to do is singe off Glunnyn's eyebrows - they've been too busy to learn how to use them, especially by trial and error, although both organizations have put people on the task.  There were some half-serious Guy Fawkes-like suggestions about what they could do with ten kegs of black powder, but the Captain's Council remains unexploded...for the time being.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eight, Part One: Talking to the Council*

It was strange not to be meeting Dru over breakfast.  Especially given the events of last night.  Di'Fier hadn't realized how much he missed the teamwork.  Katya was fine and all, but...

"...can't just let him go," the red-haired priestess was saying.  "We should follow the Council's orders and put him in jail with the rest of them.  If we let him go, he's out there with the rest of the Claw."

The subject was Vagn - their captive - who had been by turns overconfident, nervous, angry, and the entire gamut of other emotions one could attribute to a man locked in a small windowless room for two days.

Jemis grinned. "I could tail him."

Di'Fier shook his head.  "I promised him he wouldn't be followed."

The little man's expression didn't change. "I could...not tail him."

The Watch-mage sighed.  "We'll figure it out later.  In the meantime...Glunnyn, did you say you recongized the seals on those bundles?"

"I did indeed," said the gnome, climbing onto his chair so he could be seen.  "It's the maker's mark of Kolter Clockworks, a well-known manufacturer of precision timepieces from the city of Highgate. I've never heard of them producing weapons, but the workmanship is quite fine.  I'm still analyzing the powder," he added, reflexively touching his shortened eyebrows, "but it seems to provide propulsive force to the lead spheres by some form of acellerated combustion and the concomitant expansion of-"

"Fine, Glunnyn, thanks," Di'Fier cut him off with an upraised hand.  "Just let me know when you have it all figured out, okay?  Jemis," he said, turning his attention to the former smuggler, "I want you to go down to Scurvytown and see if you notice anything...things that don't fit, maybe signs of the Dragon's Claw.  And be careful."

"You got it."

Di'Fier's eyes moved down the line.  "The rest of you, we'll meet back here at noon to go check out where the Claw was signaling from the jungle.  In the meantime...Katya, I think we should pay a visit to someone on the Captain's Council."







Dru passed the paper to her bodyguard, who glanced over it disinterestedly.  "I don't like that editorial," she grumbled. "They're up to something, I can tell."

Ellerand nodded. "But what?"

"I'm not sure."  Taking the broadsheet back, she looked over the articles again.  "I think we need to pay a visit to Captain Blax, though.  If they're blackmailing Roberts, then that means that they're backing one of the Drac candidates - and I'll bet it's this 'mystery candidate'."

A walk of a few short minutes brought them to the Docks.  Dru nodded fondly towards the Broken Mug as they passed it. "That's where your friend sent me the first flower."  Moments later, they stood at the door of the Black Gull - Blax's unofficial "campaign headquarters".  Ragged cheers arose from inside as the door opened.

"And that is how we will restore Freeport to greatness!"  Blax was standing unsteadily on one of the tables, gesturing with one hand and a tankard in the other.  By the looks of it, it wasn't the first of the day - for her, or for the men seated around her, shouting encouragement.  From the looks of some of the less conscious denizens of the tavern, the celebration may well have begun the night before...

Dru watched as the Captain climbed down from the table with exaggerated care and resumed her seat (and her drinking).  With a sigh, she moved across the floor and sat down at Blax's table.

The pirate peered blearily across at her. "I haven't seen you here before," she said, slowly and carefully.

"We're new." Dru looked her overin disbelief.  _This wants to be the Sea Lord?_ "I'm Drusilia Naïlo."

Blax struggled with the concept a moment, and then comprehension dawned in her grog-sozzled eyes.  "Oh, you! I know your father.  Well.  Not _know_ him know him."

_There's no way she's backed by the Claw.  She might be able to win a drinking contest, but not the Council's vote..._ "And how is the race for the Sea Lord coming?"

Blax gestured grandly to the rest of the bar, upsetting a tankard and wetting an unconscious sailor in the process. "The people..._my_ people...they love me."

_They love you buying the drinks, anyway._ "What about this 'mystery candidate'?" Dru pressed.  "Are you worried? Do you know who it is?"

Blax waved a hand dismissively. "Probably a faker.  There's a lot of those."  For some reason, she seemed to find the idea unimaginably amusing, as she chortled into her drink.  Dru and Ellerand left her there.

As they departed, Dru's face resumed its near-habitual scowl. "She wasn't the formidable opponent I was hoping for.  Unless she's a really good actress.  I think it's time we had a talk with Soderheim."






"Congratulations on your position with the Special Crimes Unit, Watch-Lieutenant."  Sister Gwendolyn brushed a strand of long green hair behind her ear with one hand, gesturing at the chairs with the other.  "What can I do for you?"

Di'Fier and Katya sat, and the young man leaned forward.  "Mostly, we're trying to understand why the Council is pushing for this crackdown on crime - especially now.  That sounds a bit strange, since it's our job, but the sudden pressure makes us think that there's something unusual going on."

The sister looked puzzled for a moment, and pursed her lips in thought.  "Marcus - Captain Roberts, that is - is definitely the motivating force behind it." She did not miss the look that Katya and Di'Fier exchanged at her words.

Katya shifted in her chair.  "Why does Roberts want to keep the succession law?"

The other priestess shook her head.  "I'm not sure.  He keeps his reasons quiet.  Before this conversation, I would have said that he was trying to maintain the status quo, but..." She invited them to fill in the rest of the information.

Katya let out her breath.  "We think that the Dragon's Claw - a criminal organization from Highgate - is interested in the Captain's Council."

"And you think they're influencing Marcus?  Do you have anything to support that?"

Di'Fier nodded. "Please, keep this between us.  The Claw has kidnapped Marcus Roberts' daughter Nifur, along with two other girls.  One of the girls with them got away, and we were able to help her.  She gave us the information."

Gwendolyn nodded.  "I will speak to Dirwin and Hector - if these people want the law to remain, then perhaps they can be persuaded to change their votes.  But...what will these peple do to Nifur if they lose?"

Di'Fier's eyes widened.  He hadn't considered the thought.  "Perhaps it's best if the stalemate continues."

"I will pray that you find her."






Dru studied the light red wine in the glass.  Elven, of course - as was everything in Soderheim's house, from the furniture to the paintings to the table silver.  All elven, and yet...there was something indefinably wrong about the way they were presented.  Or perhaps not something wrong, but the lack of something _right_...

"...and that brings us to Marcus.  Of all of the people supporting the law, he's the one I'm most surprised about - given his support for Lady Elise in so many matters during Milton's rule."

Dru nodded.  "Before I left the watch, some of my father's men were attacked."  Soderheim looked surprised at the change of subject, and Dru couldn't help but think that a true elf would have waited for the entire chain of thought to be revealed.  "We obtained a coded message from the attackers after they were...dealt with.  I'm sure you've heard about the attacks on many of the city's upstanding citizens?"

Soderheim took a swallow of his wine and looked at the elves across from him.  "No," he said, in a voice only half full of gentle mockery, "but I've heard about a war among the city's criminal element."

"Of course."  Unruffled, Dru continued.  "The message discussed several captured girls - and we have reason to believe that one of them is Nifur Roberts, who they are using to manipulate her father."

"I see."  Soderheim set down the wineglass, and steepled his fingers in front of him.  "So you believe that his support for the succession law is due to their interference?"

Dru nodded.

"Well...I will certainly do everything I can to effect the repeal of the law."  Soderheim smiled.  "Not that I wasn't intending to do so already.  But thank you...Dru.  I hope that this sharing of information bespeaks of the further possibility of cooperation between our various interests.  After all, we of elven blood must stick together."

Dru nodded. "There have been times when Papa and I take different stances on things.  I suppose that happens with most parents and children.  Thank you for your time, Councilman."

Outside: "What did you think, Ellerand?"

Her bodyguard studied the street for a moment before answering. "I think he does a disservice to his race."

Dru's eyebrow arched.  "Which one?"

"Both.  If your father did not dislike halfbreeds before he met Soderheim, I think he would have changed his mind.  I do not trust him."

Dru smiled. "Like many people, you can count on him to look after hos own best interests."

"He seems to try so hard to be an elf."

"That is why he is not liked."

"I doubt he'd go against your father."

Dru thought about that for a moment.  "Perhaps not directly.  He was willing to see us quickly enough because of the name.  Still, I'll take allies where I can get them for now."  She turned to look at Ellerand. "What do you think of half-humans?"

The muscular elf shrugged. "I try to judge most people on their own merits."

"I do as well.  It just irritates me when they try to be elves."


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Re: Re: Session Seven, Part Four: The Mysterious Cargo*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Ah yes, guns.
> 
> It was kind of funny.  Both Dru and Di'Fier thought independently..."maybe we should just sink them in the harbor".  As you can see, they didn't - and the consequences of their decision will have a profound effect on them...and potentially the city of Freeport.
> *




Well Lets just say be careful what you ask for.  You might just get it.  (no not the mithrial shirt) but something else Di'fier needs. . .



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Ah! I was wondering if someone would notice me being all subtle like.  Actually, it was 4 bundles of guns and 5 casks of black powder to each. And it was quite simple, really - they called her wagon before they got ahold of the Watch.
> 
> There really wasn't that much to 'work out' about it, though.  Both of them decided on an even split without even thinking about it.
> 
> That session was really interesting to watch, as Dru and Di'Fier - even though they were on separate sides of the law at that point - just fell back into the old partnership again without even thinking about it.  Old habits die hard, and this one provided a vital link that the Claw...well, I'm getting ahead of myself.
> 
> J *




Old Habits Die Hard.   Oh yeah, Di'fier dropped the ball here.  He sorta forgot who dru worked for.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

I'm just glad that Dru didn't go with her first inclination, which was to try to burn down the ship.  Imagine... with all of that gunpowder.  Wheeee!!!


----------



## Horacio

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *I'm just glad that Dru didn't go with her first inclination, which was to try to burn down the ship.  Imagine... with all of that gunpowder.  Wheeee!!! *




It would have been an explosive ending for the campaign...


----------



## DiFier

I think between Dru and Ellerand there were 10 flasks of alchmists fire

While Ellerand was hidding under the boat on the ships deck he was seriously debating just dropping a few flasks and running like hell.  especially after all the ships defenders started comming out on deck.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eight, Part Two: A Daring Rescue*

Dru's eyes narrowed, and she leaned across the pawnbroker's counter.  Her voice was quiet, but that did nothing to disguise the menace. "What do you mean, 'I already paid'?"

The elf's eyes widened, and he took an involuntary step back. "Just like normal, I swear to the gods!  Ivellimor came and collected this morning..."

"Ivellimor's been missing for four days."

"He...he came in and collected, just like usual..."

_Again with the damned shape-changing magic_, Dru thought. "Until further notice, you are not to pay Ivellimor.  If he comes back, contact us immediately."  She looked at the sweat beading on the shopkeeper's brow, and added: "You made an honest attempt. I'll make sure Papa knows."  She gave the pawbroker time to relax, and then asked, "Was there anything unusual about Ivellimor's behavior?"

"Well, he seemed...distant. Like he had a lot on his mind.  He didn't ask about the wife or anything."

It was the same story, all down the line.  Every one of the businesses on Ivellimor's route had already paid the impostor. _That's one more, Ulric,_ she thought.  _When the time comes to collect from your hide, I am going to enjoy it._






A shadow fell across Di'Fier's desk, and he looked up to see the mountainous form of Quooral standing before him.

"s'noon, sir," the genasi told him. "Jemis isn't back yet."

Di'Fier frowned, following the giant man out to where the rest of the Special Crimes Unit waited.  Glunnyn was trying to wipe a sooty residue from his face and hands, Ashrem perched in a window seat, studying the fletching on an arrow, and Katya paced nervously.  As Di'Fier entered, she turned to him.

"I think we should try to find him, sir," she said without preamble.  "Something must have gone wrong."

Di'Fier considered. "I suppose there's no harm in taking a look, at any rate.  Glunnyn, did you happen to prepare your locating spell today?  If you were able to use that to find Captain Donnach, we might be able to use it for Jemis as well."

The gnome's head bobbed once. "Yes, but I will have to get reasonably close to him.  Beyond a certain point the sub-etheric vibrational signature is obscured by the - yes, I know. 'Thank you, Glunnyn.'" 






Glunnyn pointed.  "If my triangulation is correct, the clothing he was wearing is in that building."

Ashrem smirked. "Hopefully he's still wearing them.  Otherwise, if we _do_ find him, he's likely to be rather upset with us..."

As they crept forward, Di'Fier poked his head around a corner.  A thuggish man leaned against the building - probably a guard. 

He never knew just what it was that drew the guard's attention, but the head swiveled and looked directly at him.  Even as the man's hand went to the sword hilt at his side, Di'Fier was in motion.

"Glunnyn! Find out what's inside!" The syllables of the _haste_ spell tripped from his tongue, and he felt the world slow around him.  The guard's sword crept from its sheath, inch by inch, as Di'Fier launched himself across the intervening space, his own blade blurring from its scabbard - but before the guard could react, he was past, and flinging open the door.

The enormous half-orc turned to face Di'Fier and gave him a toothy grin.  With a gutteral word, he summoned a disc of shimmering force to stand in front of him, then pulled his axes from his belt and advanced.

Behind him, Di'Fier could hear his teammates rushing to support him. With a step back, he summoned a sphere of flames that settled behind the half-orc, scorching his clothes and flesh. He whirled his blade around, but between the _shield_ and the cramped space of the doorway there was little he could do.  The axes met the same difficulty, slamming into the doorframe hard enough to make the building shudder.

Glunnyn's voice whispered to him: _There's two more in the inner room, and another doorway - that must be where Jemis is. Katya's going in through the window._

Di'Fier stepped back, dodging a well-aimed axe blow, and flung one hand forward with an arcane shout.  The blast of force slammed into the half-orc, ignoring his _shield_ and knocking him to the floor. Di'Fier reversed his blade and stepped forward, stabbing downward.






The protections of Fate swirled about Katya as she smashed her fist through the boarded-over window and ripped the wood from the frame.  Diving through the gap, she found herself next to Jemis - bound and beaten, tied to a chair.  Across the room, by the door, stood a haughty woman with waves of midnight black hair, whose face twisted into a snarl as the priestess entered.  She raised a hand, spoke a word, and the room went black.

Katya could hear the boards being ripped from another window, and Ashrem's startled curse as the blackness washed out over him - but her attention was on the woman. She murmured a prayer to her god: "May my blows find where she is fated to be" - and then let the magic take her where it would.

She could hear the woman chanting the words to a spell - _Good, keep it up...now I know where to find you._  Ste stepped forward, spun - her foot lashing out of its own volition, slamming into soft flesh and propelling it backwards to the sound of a stream of vitriolic curses in some unknown tongue.

She heard the door to the room burst open.

The sound of something metal rebounding from the wall.

A muffled cry and the clatter of wood as Jemis' chair overturned.

And then she was leaping for the window as unseen flames blossomed in the darkness.


----------



## Jon Potter

I had wondered when we were going to get to see the rest of the SCU in action.

And now here they are getting their behinds handed to them.

Bad, DM! Bad!


----------



## Thorntangle

Great update!

Gawd I hate the Darkness spells. On behalf of the Player's Union, I vote that we abolish it henceforth. Poor Jemis, alone in the fiery darkness.


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Great update!
> 
> Gawd I hate the Darkness spells. On behalf of the Player's Union, I vote that we abolish it henceforth. Poor Jemis, alone in the fiery darkness. *




Hey, Katya was in there with him too!

The worst part about the darkness - and this had been bugging Di'Fier to no end, because he made a Spellcraft roll and deterimed it was *not* a normal _darkness_ spell - was that the woman who created it could apparently see through it just fine!  (_blacklight_, from the *FRCS*, for those keeping score at home.)

On the other hand, she is no longer around to trouble them...but I'm getting ahead of myself again.

As for why you don't see as much of the rest of the SCU - that's because I have my hands full with the opposition!  Besides, I hate to take the limelight away from the players - there's stuff going on in there that didn't make it into the Story Hour, because neither Di'Fier nor Katya were there. (Quooral, for example, made short work of the guard that Di'Fier bypassed, and I believe that Ashrem accounted for one or two as well.)

J


----------



## DiFier

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Gawd I hate the Darkness spells. On behalf of the Player's Union, I vote that we abolish it henceforth. Poor Jemis, alone in the fiery darkness. *




I second that



> _Originally posted by drnuncheon_
> * - and this had been bugging Di'Fier to no end, because he made a Spellcraft roll and deterimed it was not a normal darkness spell - *




This was long ago (well about a week or so game time) when dru and Di'Fier (both still members of the watch) found the murdered elven seamstress.   Di'fier didn't know what the spell was but he knew it was special, he suspected that the caster was able to see through the darkness but wasn't sure.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Abolish darkness spells... I agree!  I have never seen it used, by DM or player, in a way that didn't annoy me to no end.    It's enough to make me want to use up a feat slot for 'Blind Fight.'  Heh.


----------



## Horacio

Blind fight is a must for a fighter, Dru. Darkness is an universally hated spell, at least by all players and most DM. I hate it


----------



## DiFier

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *Abolish darkness spells... I agree!  I have never seen it used, by DM or player, in a way that didn't annoy me to no end.    It's enough to make me want to use up a feat slot for 'Blind Fight.'  Heh. *




especially when the player in question uses it as an "oh sh__"  responce to seeing bad guys. . . 

then you get huge fat elven chefs tieing themselves to the well and running circles around the darkness (which is centered on the well) screaming "I don't eat food that falls on the floor."  hoping to close line the enemy but only succeeding in closelining the darkness caster and then when the rope encounters an enemy, the enemy cuts it sending the enourmous elf careening into (and through) a poor pesant's flat. while the other two member's of the party attempt to kill the bad guys by attacking movement in the darkness (which of course is the two of them) but luckily missing each other, and eventually killing the water monster that came out of the well.


----------



## Victim

Get a few small, easily concealed items enchanted with Clerical Continual Flame.  Then, if Darkness is bothering you, pull out one of those items and both effects will be temporarily negated.  The clerical version works best because it is higher level, so it can negate Deeper Darkness and wipe out Darkness.


----------



## Horacio

EN Worlds tells us that today is Drusilia Nailo's birthday (28), so...

*Happy birthday, Dru!!!!*


----------



## Zarthon

*Happy Birthday Dru   *


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Wow.  I feel all loved and stuff.  Thanks!  Even though it's my birthday, we're still planning on having Freeport tonight.  Hopefully I'll get a birthday crit!


Di'Fier, it's okay.  It's all just a very bizarre memory now...


----------



## DiFier

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *Wow.  I feel all loved and stuff.  Thanks!  Even though it's my birthday, we're still planning on having Freeport tonight.  Hopefully I'll get a birthday crit!*




Happy Birthday! (wow.  you, me & Dr. N all have birthdays in close succession)



> *
> Di'Fier, it's okay.  It's all just a very bizarre memory now... *




It makes me laugh everytime I think of it

I was debating doing a story hour based on that adventure, It would be funny. of course Everrett would end up shooting what's his face, the tiefling after that where is ol'hydra question that sent the priest running.  Dr. N ignored me when I said in exzasberation, "I shoot him"


----------



## drnuncheon

Victim said:
			
		

> *Get a few small, easily concealed items enchanted with Clerical Continual Flame.  Then, if Darkness is bothering you, pull out one of those items and both effects will be temporarily negated.  The clerical version works best because it is higher level, so it can negate Deeper Darkness and wipe out Darkness. *




Actually, it's _daylight_ that cancels out _darkness_...you can use _continual flame_ to counter or dispel a darkness spell, but with two already-cast spells the darkness takes precedence.

J


----------



## Victim

The PHB errata changes Continual Flame from a figment to an evocation (light) spell.  Since it becomes a light spell, it works for beating darkness.


----------



## drnuncheon

Victim said:
			
		

> *The PHB errata changes Continual Flame from a figment to an evocation (light) spell.  Since it becomes a light spell, it works for beating darkness. *




Sure, for countering or dispelling it - but the 'canceling out' effect as written seems to still be a unique property of _daylight_.  (A _continual flame_ to my mind isn't bright enough to overpower or cancel the darkness in any case - and in the interests of consistency I'm inclined to leave it that way.)

Anyway, back to on topic - the 'Election' storyline came to a thunderous conclusion tonight: a face-to-face confrontation with the infamous Ulric Dragosani, a surprise turncoat witness, an attempted _coup d'etat_, and the election of a new Sea Lord.  

Oh, and our heroes finally make it to the double digits in level.  Huzzah!

More details will follow.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eight, Part Three: The Open Door*

"Dru. Dru!"  The voice was coming from about waist high - not the normal place for someone to be hailing her from.  An unwise hand caught at her cloak, and her hand went to the hilt of her rapier as she turned, then slipped off just as unconsciously.

The man who had hailed her was propped under the eaves of a building.  The mud-stained rags that served him as clothing were still damp from the rain, and the cup in front of him held a scant few coppers.

"Tim," she greeted, crouching down to be closer to his level.  "You're normally down at the docks."

"Aye," he agreed. "The sailors give t'one of their own." He scratched at one of his leg-stumps. "And I'll be back there when the harbor opens, y'can bet.  But I wanted t'tell you, there were som folks as were askin' about your part...well, still your friend, I'm guessin'.  They wanted to know as where he lived and such.  I heard someone point 'em to his parent's house, that was as close as anyone knew.

Dru looked up at her bodyguard.  "That doesn't sound good.  Thank you, Tim."

The coin vanished almost before it hit the cup.  _Wouldn't do to look as I'm doing _too_ well..._







Di'Fier staggered back, staring in disbelief as the half-orc climbed to his feet, flames licking from his clothing and blood staining nearly everything below the breastbone.  _What does it take to _kill_ this guy?_ he thought, as the axes whistled through the air, narrowly missing him once, twice.

The warrior-mage touched the silver dagger on his belt and murmured the words to a spell, summoning a shimmering blade of force behind the raging axeman. It didn't seem to help - the spinning steel of the axes knocked aside his sword, even with the distraction provided by the magical blade. He could hear the boards over a window splinter as Quooral came to look inside, and saw crossbow bolts fly from the shadows to ricochet off of the huge man's helmet.  _And how many of them _are_ there?_

The halfbreed warrior stepped forward, axes high...and then crashed, in a blazing heap, to the ground.

With a thought, Di'Fier sent the _flaming sphere_ bounding across the room to attack one of the archers, and stepped forward towards the other, his blade missing by a handsbreadth as the sniper dove headlong out of its way.  Then the blackness hit him.

He could hear a male voice in the darkness, summoning fire to do his bidding - and then the flames washed over him, searing him like so much meat on a grill.  He bit back a curse, and dimly noted that the sorcerer's aim had not been perfect - judging, at least, from the cursing that came out of the darkness where his opponent had landed.

_No way to fight if I can't see, except..._  He was already summoning his magic to add quickness to his limbs, in preparation for what he was about to do.  _This,_ he thought, _is going to hurt._






Light returned to the room, and Katya uncurled herself.  Her back was smarting like a bad sunburn, her hair was scorched - but she'd come through the _fireball_ remarkably unscathed.  Whoever had called the darkness had apparently left, leaving her alone in the room with...

"Jemis!"  Katya leapt across the room.  _There's no way he could have done anything about the _fireball_ tied up like that!_ She could see the chair, overturned and flipped on top of her team-mate, the legs and seat-bottom scorched black and smoking.  Red embers crawled slowly along the wood.

The words of the healing prayer jumbled in her mind as she seized the chair and yanked it over, to reveal Jemis: unburned and alive.

"Mll oo _meez_ ae mph uh ag?" 






Quooral couldn't see, which was upsetting enough.  But he also couldn't fit through the window, which had been his original intent when he ripped off the boards covering it.  In fact, he was a bit stuck.  At least they had stopped shooting at him now that it was dark.

Di'Fier kept shouting in the strange language he used whenever he worked magic.  Quooral was glad, because that usually meant that his job was going to be quite a bit easier.  He flexed his arms and _pushed_, hearing the wooden frame of the window shriek in protest and then splinter.  _That's better._ 

The blast of cold slammed into him with almost as much force as the chunks of ice that brought it.






The ice pummeled at Di'Fier, as he twisted and ducked in a desperate attempt to keep his own spell from doing him in.  He could hear the ice chunks ricocheting off of something large and metal, and his wet cloak was stiff with frost.

_Hopefully, that took care of..._ he thought, and was interrupted by the sound of chanting, and a wave of flame washing over him again.  _...damn._ He stepped forward, ready to swing - but hesitated.  His teammates were somewhere there in the dark as well.  Running footsteps charged past him, and he thrust, but his blade found nothing.

And then the darkness was gone - and with it, their living opponents.  The half-orc still burned in front of the door, and several bodies lay scattered around the room, but Di'Fier knew that the _real_ enemies had gotten away.






Dru hurried down the side street - wanting to charge down it, blade out, but knowing that would only cause a panic.  And with the crackdown on crime - she couldn't afford the delay of dealing with her former comrades-in-arms.

She and Ellerand rounded the corner to the street Di'Fier's parents lived on, skidding to a halt as they assessed the situation.  It was nearly deserted - besides them, only an alley cat trotted past, on some errand of its own.

Dru stepped forward, and looked at her destination.

The door stood slightly ajar.

_- End of Session 8 -_


----------



## Jon Potter

Attacking Di'Fier's parents? Man that is *cold*!

Of course, the attackers might find more than they bargained for. A high-level mage and fighter aren't necessarily easy pickings.


----------



## ShawnLStroud

*Re: Session Eight, Part Three: The Open Door*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Dru stepped forward, and looked at her destination.
> 
> The door stood slightly ajar.
> 
> - End of Session 8 - *




Oh, Doc.  Great cliffhanger!  Your players just must HATE you!  Thanks again for the view into your campaign!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Eight, Part Three: The Open Door*



			
				ShawnLStroud said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Oh, Doc.  Great cliffhanger!  Your players just must HATE you!*




As a matter of fact, I was informed shortly after ending Friday night that neither of my players had anything planned for Saturday...

For the record, counting that Saturday's double session as one, I am a whopping four sessions behind.  Ack!  Four sessions to go in the Mob War storyline, and the second half of Book Two yet to play - wherein Dru and Di'Fier finally bid farewell to the city of Freeport.

I won't say if they leave the city standing behind them when they go, though.

J


----------



## Horacio

They are going to leave Freeport? 
Forever?


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *They are going to leave Freeport?
> Forever?
> *




Well....whether they come back kind of depends on whether they have a city to come back _to_, doesn't it?



J
really, they have to come back someday...there's another Freeport module waiting for them!


----------



## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Well....whether they come back kind of depends on whether they have a city to come back to, doesn't it?
> 
> 
> 
> J
> really, they have to come back someday...there's another Freeport module waiting for them! *




A _Freeport Story Hour_ without Freeport would be as _Piratecat's story hour_ without baby shields or _Wulf Story Hour_ without Wulf!


----------



## Zarthon

I like the Freeport story hour, but I think the idea of Dru and Di'Fier adventuring some place other than Freeport could be fun.

Doc> What campaign world are you using?


----------



## drnuncheon

Zarthon said:
			
		

> *Doc> What campaign world are you using? *




(looks at his note book) Um..._that_ one. 

Seriously, I have left the world outside of Freeport very vaguely defined, so that I can fit in...well, whatever needs to be fit in.  The vague hints at what's out there that have appeared in the Story Hour (the existence of the City of Highgate, for example) are most of what's out there, which means I have my work cut out for me. 

Shh. Don't tell...oh, wait, my players read this thread.

J
Ah, they know how I work anyway.


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> I have left the world outside of Freeport very vaguely defined, so that I can fit in...well, whatever needs to be fit in. *




That's the best way to do it IMO. No sense detailing the tundra home of the frost barbarians if your players are unlikely to ever head north. Of course, dropping a few consistant place names can lend verisimilitude  to your campaign as well as pique the players' interest in exploring "beyond the horizon".

Like I needed to tell *you*that.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Nine, Part One: Civil Unrest*

_*Compiler's Note:* I tried to post this last night, but the inevitable downtime bit me..._

Katya leaned back against the wall, drained of strength.  Steaming chunks of ice still lay scattered about the room, and Quooral's breastplate would never be the same, but at least the fight was over.  "Maybe we should wait until tomorrow to check out the site in the jungle."

The giant genasi looked over at Di'Fier. "If you are going to cast another spell," he said slowly, "please tell me first."

Di'Fier prodded his own bruised ribs and nodded.  "Yeah, let's...get back to headquarters."






The door swung open at her touch.

The front room of the tiny cottage was a shambles - the furniture shattered, the curtains yanked down, the rug in disarray. The broken remnants of an old and trusted blade lay discarded in the corner.

Dru stepped forward, her feet leading her onward to the kitchen.  It had always been Di'Fier's father's domain, kept immaculately tidy and clean. Now the wooden floor was dark and sticky with blood, pooled around a still and crumpled form.






"Hey, Di'Fier," came Jaffar's gravelly greeting as the Special Crimes Unit staggered into Watch headquarters.  "Your pris - hey, you guys look like sh-t, you know that?" As the Watch-Lieutenant wearily gestured for him to continue, the swarthy man shrugged.  "Your prisoner is pretty p-ss-d off.  He was yellin' for a while until we got tired of listening to him and put the gag back in."

Di'Fier had to chuckle.  "He's probably wondering when we're going to set him free.  Thanks, Jaffar, I'll take care of it."  He started back towards the prisoner's room, but had only made it a few feet before he was intercepted by another form, this one half-hidden behind a towering stack of files.  Only the sprig of unruly hair sprouting upwards from the back of the head let Di'Fier identify him as Spruce.

"Di'Fier," the records clerk hissed urgently, and gestured him aside with a nod of his head.  Setting the files down, he looked up at the mage through his thick spectacles.  "You know I can keep a secret, right?" he asked plaintively.  "This thing with Dru...going back to the Naïlos.  It's a story, right?  She's undercover for the Watch."  The clerk's eyes begged Di'Fier to agree. "Right?"

Di'Fier licked his lips, trying to decide what to say.  "You know I can't tell you, Spruce," he began.  "But...let's just say I had some help in confiscating those crates in the special evidence room."

Relief spread across Spruce's face.  "I knew it.  I knew she wouldn't really go back." He hefted the files. "I have to go get these to the Captain."

Katya strolled over, watching the clerk go quzzically, but she didn't ask about the conversation.  Instead: "Have you decided what we're going to do about our little friend in there?" She nodded towards the door Di'Fier had been heading towards - a door from behind which they could hear muffled protestations.

Di'Fier shook his head.  "I can't think of a good way to let him go...and he _is_ our only clue.  Let's go see what he has to say this time around.  Maybe he'll spill something else."

The door banged open, admitting Kliege - strangely, _sans_ Davos.  "There's a mob at the Sea Lord's palace," he called. "We need some backup, fast, or it's going to get ugly!"

Di'Fier turned.  The prisoner could wait.  "What do they want?"

"A Sea Lord."






Dru knelt, heedless of the drying blood.  She could see the old man's chest still weakly rise and fall as she pulled forth one of her healing potions, pouring it into his open mouth.  

Ellerand lifted him slightly, to help him swallow - and frowned.  "Dru - this doesn't feel right.  I can feel bones grinding in his back.  I think he's hurt even worse than he looks."

"Then we'll just give him more potions," Dru said, already pouring one into his mouth.

"I'm not sure the potions will heal everything that was done to him. If his spine was broken..."

The old man's eyes were beginning to move.  The wounds on his body were closing, but he still looked corpse-pale and cold.  His hand twitched weakly on Dru's arm and he looked up at her.  "Tell my son that they took her back," he whispered.

Dru pushed the white hair back from his face.  "You'll be able to tell him yourself," she said.

"Tell him the girl is gone," Di'Fier's father insisted. "But don't tell him anything else."






Di'Fier looked at the crowd - Kliege was right, it was only a matter of time before things got ugly.  Shouts demanding a Sea Lord rose from various parts of the mob.  _At least they're not chanting,_ he thought.  _You _know_ it's going to get nasty when they start chanting._  "Quooral? Make us a path to the gate."

Quooral nodded, and waded into the throng, parting the crowd with ease and breaking a path for the others.  A few moments later, they were at the gate.

"No sign of the Sea Lord's Guard, of course," observed Di'Fier.  "All right, Quooral - give me a boost."  The genasi lifted the mage easily onto his wide shoulders and straightened.

Di'Fier waved his hands.  _Nobody's throwing things yet - that could be a positive sign._  "People of Freeport!" he called out.  "People of Freeport, your attention!"

The crowd quieted grudgingly to a murmur, and Di'Fier continued.  "There _will_ be a Sea Lord," he told them.  "The Sea Lord is being chosen.  But this demonstration will not speed up the process."  There were a few shouts of outrage, but he raised his hands again.  "If you would like, you may show your approval for one of the candidates."

That was new, and it seemed to stymie the mob for a moment.  Di'Fier pressed on.  "Who would like to see Captain Andrea Blax as the new Sea Lord?"  More than half the crowd erupted in drunken approval - the core of it from a group of pirates near the back.

Di'Fier gave them a moment to quiet down, and continued.  "What about...Lady Elise Grossette?"

An objector shouted, "She's not a Drac!", but his voice was drowned out by another rousing cheer.

"Captain Arias Soderheim?"  The approval was beginning to taper off.  Was it because Soderheim was not as popular, or was the crowd merely getting bored?

"And the mystery candidate?"  Only a few 'hurrahs' remained - at least one of whom Di'Fier noted had cheered just as vigorously for the previous three candidates.  _Maybe he just enjoys cheering..._ 

Di'Fier smiled at the milling people.  "Your government thanks you for your contribution.  You may now return to your homes."  He climbed down from Quooral's soldiers and watched as people began to trickle away. _Well, at least that's over with..._

Then, much to his dismay, a murmur spread through the crowd, and it began to thicken again.  Casting a glance over his shoulder through the gate, Di'Fier could see the slender form of Councillor Soderheim approaching.

"Ah, Watch-Lieutenant," said the half-elf.  "I see you've got our little problem well in hand."

_I did_, Di'Fier grumbled mentally, as the crowd pressed forward.

"Please, if you would be so kind as to pass along another message - the Council has determined that a new vote on the repeal of the succession law will be taken tomorrow morning."

Di'Fier shared a glance with Katya. _And they've still got Nifur Roberts.  We've got to take care of this now,_ he thought.  _I guess we won't be letting our prisoner go tonight after all._


----------



## Ruined

Great story as always, drnuncheon!  The pacing in this one was exceptionally crafted.


----------



## Thorntangle

Di'Fier's father dead? Tell me it can't be so.

Great update again. You never disappoint, Doc.


----------



## DiFier

Dru is pumping him full of cure potions, so unless he is like Di'Fier and is gaining an imunity to them* he should be alive.  Wheather he can walk again is another story.

*I haven't rolled above a 4 on a cure light roll in weeks.


----------



## Horacio

DiFier said:
			
		

> *Dru is pumping him full of cure potions, so unless he is like Di'Fier and is gaining an imunity to them* he should be alive.  Wheather he can walk again is another story.
> 
> *I haven't rolled above a 4 on a cure light roll in weeks. *




DiFier, I hope your father goes well and potions will cure him


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Nine, Part Two: Reunions*

"Di'Fier."  Jemis' voice was flat and emotionless as he nodded towards the approaching figure - and then turned and pushed away through the crowd.

Dru stopped in front of her former partner, hesitated.  "I have to talk to you.  I think I know what's going on."

Di'Fier glanced around at the throng, pushing his way through to a side street with Dru right behind him. Turning to face her, he could see her reluctance, and a clammy wave of dread washed over him.  Something was wrong.  Very wrong.

"They got the girl back.  Your father wanted me to tell you.  They burst in and took her.  He's..." Di'Fier could read the truth in her eyes, and she couldn't even make the best of it. "...stable.  I sent your mother to him."  She gave him a minute to digest the information, then asked, "What girl?"

"Vikki Tarjay," murmured the mage.  "She was with Nifur Roberts the night she was kidnapped."  Then he was pushing past Dru, all other thoughts forgotten.

"Wait!" she called after him.  "We need to meet again!"

He didn't stop moving - just shouted, "Nightfall - Black Rose!" over his shoulder and was gone.







Dru mounted the stairs, climbing to the balcony at the back of the small house in the _kesir_.  It had been years - no, a decade or more - since she had last been here.

The door opened after her knock, and the elven woman behind it let out a gasp of surprise. "Drusilia!"

Dru smiled. "Nilia.  I hoped that you were still living here."

As they entered the flat, Dru couldn't help but notice the changes that age was beginning to make in her teacher.  For once, she wished she could see with human eyes - to them, ignorant as they were, the elves seemed ageless, and Dru and Nilia might have been sisters instead of being of an age to be mother and daughter.  But for someone who knew the signs...

Nilia turned from placing the kettle over the fire, and looked over her former pupil.  One long finger reached out to trace the scar along Dru's cheek, and she tsk'ed.  "I hope that not all of my lessons in deportment were forgotten."

"Not forgotten, Nilia," Dru assured her. After a moment, she admitted, "Maybe less used..."  Seizing the opportunity to change the subject, she asked, "Are you familiar with the Dragon's Claw?"

"I've heard of them." Nilia turned from where she was adding herbs to the kettle, to regard Dru with a curious glance.  "Is that what brings you to me?"

Dru nodded. "They're here, and they've been attacking Papa. And the rest of the underworld, too," she added belatedly.

"Dru...I'm no warrior.  Perhaps I could help if you wanted to seduce one of them, but I somehow doubt that is what you have in mind."

"I was hoping for advice on subtle tactics."

The older elf turned to look at Dru, cocking her head to one side.  "Your father is the master of subtle tactics.  I could tell you how to handle one man...not an entire organization."  As the kettle began to steam, she took it from the coals and poured its contents into a pair of cups.

Dru sighed, taking one from her.  "I just feel out of my depth.  They're here, they're somewhere in Scurvytown, and nobody knows where - and I haven't got the first idea where to look." _Maybe we can just burn the entire neighborhood to the ground?_

Nilia pursed her lips, sitting down and motioning Dru to do the same.  "Scurvytown," she repeated, closing her eyes to picture the place.  Slowly, she opened them again, and smiled. "Very brave.  The last crimelord to try to take Scurvytown was killed in broad daylight in the middle of Dreaming Street...and yet, somehow there were no witnesses."  She breathed in the aromatic vapors of the tea, and sighed.  "Dreaming Street...no-one can tell you better than I, Drusilia: men talk while they are in bed...and I very much doubt that these men are abstaining."






"I should have moved her earlier."

Eleanor, Magus of the Fifth Circle, looked across the cottage's main room at her son.  She could see her father's temper in him, and his father's stubbornness, and the family's magical talent - all focused inward in a blaze of self-recrimination.  "You didn't know," she said softly, crossing the room to rest a hand on his shoulder.  "None of us knew.  I should have put more protections on the house.  We all thought that she was safe because nobody knew she was here."

"Two nights ago, I changed myself to look like her," her son began, voice dull with shock.  "They probably put two and two together.  How is he?"

"He's..." She hesitated.  "He looks worse than he is."

Di'Fier nodded, and headed into the bedroom, kneeling by the side of the bed.  He took his father's hand into his own, feeling the remnants of the calluses built up from long years of swordplay - and worn away by years of retirement.  "Father," he said. "I'm sorry."

His father's eyes opened, and his hand squeezed Di'Fier's.  But it was a pale shadow of the strength that used to be there, and both of them knew it.  "I'm sorry I wasn't able to stop them."  His eyes closed again, and he let out a long breath.  "They did not hurt her, that I saw."  

They sat in silence for a moment longer, before the old man slowly pulled his hand away, and lifted his head to look at his son. "Find her."

Di'Fier nodded, and straightened, turning towards his mother, who watched from the doorway. "Mother...the Council has decided to vote on the succession law tomorrow.  I think we must mobilize the Guild.  Tonight is one of our last chances, and we may need all the help we can get."


----------



## Jon Potter

On page two?

Not on my watch!


----------



## Horacio

No "how excellent" comments?
You're a buch of bad readers, an update like that deserve a "wonderful" post at least...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Nine, Part Three: Coral's Story*

Coral looked up at the two elves.  Usually they didn't come down to Dreaming Street for this sort of thing - they preferred to stay with their own kind. She tugged her blouse tighter against her small frame, and tried to make her chest appear larger than what her thirteen years had given her.  She licked her lips - a nervous habit - and said, "It'll cost extra for both of you."

The elves exchanged glances, and then the woman leaned forward, the scar along her cheek gleaming pale in the lamplight.  "How much?"

_They probably don't know, especially if they're used to what they charge in the _kesir..."Ten gold," she said, then caught her breath, hoping that they would not object.

A smile spread across the elf's face.  "Fine."

They followed her up to the dingy little room above the tavern.  The bed was hardly going to be big enough for the three of them - maybe one of them just wanted to watch? Or maybe they'd take turns. She began pulling her blouse free off her skirts when the female's voice behind her said, "That won't be necessary."

She turned to look at the pair of them, suddenly frightened, her eyes drawn to the woman's blade, and the axes slung at the man's sides.  _What if they're the heart thieves?_ she thought.  A pair of shining coins clinked onto the dresser. _But that's not silver..._

"That was ten gold each, right?" the woman said.  "We just want to talk for a little bit.  Ask you about some strange things that have been happening around here lately."

Coral let herself sink down to sit on the bed, her eyes darting between the elves and the coins.  The man was leaning against the door, casually, but his hands were resting near those axes.  The woman sat in the rickety chair and watched her.  "Have there been any unusual customers lately?"

Something about the way she said it made Coral afraid.  Not for herself, just at the sheer cold malice that the tone promised for whoever these customers were.  "J-Jedda - she's my friend - she had some," she stammered.  "She got hurt by one of them." How much of this would they believe?  "A woman with, with cold claws.  A foreigner.  She...she got off on cutting her."

She watched the two elves exchange another pair of silent glances, and then the woman spoke again.  "I think I'd like to meet this Jedda."

They were going to come back...and that meant more money! "She'll be working tonight," Coral said hopefully. "I could tell her you wanted to meet her."

"That would be just fine."

Coral licked her lips again, and took a deep breath. "Are you sure you don't want anything else?"

They hesitated, and she added, "I've...never had an elf before."

The elves shook their heads and turned to go, and Coral scooped up the coins, waiting for them to leave before hiding them away.  She hesitated, then plucked out some of her hoarded silver to give to the bartender.  He'd never know what they gave her...but she'd have to find somehow to change the coins.  Twenty gold! She could live like a princess!






Smug. "It's about time. Are you ready to let me go?"

Matter-of-fact. "I think we held on too long."

Nervous. "W-why?"

Cold. "Your friends attacked my father."

Desperate. "I wasn't there! I didn't have anything to do with it!"

Softly. "You're the only one I've got."

Resigned. "I-I'll talk."






"..._and_ they gave me platinum.  _Platinum!_" Coral whispered to her friend.  "They didn't even want to do anything, just ask questions.  I bet they pay you, too."

"You're lying to me, Coral, nobody's going to pay us that much just to _talk_," Jedda shot back.

The door opened, and a pair of men walked in.  Jedda flinched involuntarily when she saw their faces, and one of them turned a wicked grin on the girls.  She could see them talking to the bartender, and pointing over at their table.  The fat man dropped a greasy rag on the bar, and picked his way over to them.

"Private party," he grunted. "They want both of you."

Jedda was pale, and Coral bit her lip.  _Those are the guys who took her to see the cold-claw woman..._ "We can't go," she said. "We'd be there all night."

"That's right, and they're payin' for it.  Now get."

All Coral could think about were the silvery coins she'd been given earlier.  "But...the elves said they'd be back, and they'd want me again, and Jedda too."

A snort. "With what they paid? You'll get five times as much working this party, and you won't turn that many tricks tonight if you stay."  His eyes narrowed, and he grabbed her by the arm. His breath was hot and foul on her face. "You ain't holding out on me, are you?"

"Don't mark them up," one of the men called. "Jallarzi doesn't like it when someone else does that."

Jedda tensed, but the barkeep took a step around the table and grabbed her before she could bolt, hauling her to her feet and dragging her across the room to the waiting men.  A stack of coins lay on the counter, and Coral knew she'd be lucky to see any of it, even if she survived the night.






"I will do everything in my power to protect her, Kennic."

"Ellerand...this organization is not about making money for Tensin."  A pause.  "It is about keeping her safe."

"The ring..."






How many had it been? Five? Six? They were certainly getting their money's worth.  Maybe if she could keep them all happy they wouldn't turn her over to that Jallarzi woman.

Coral could hear a shout from outside: "They're coming in! Both floors!"  Then the weight lifted off of her as the man rose up and fumbled with his pants, finally just discarding them and grabbing instead for the loaded crossbow set by the door.  Coral watched in silence as he gestured and chanted, and a shimmering disc blurred into existence in front of him.

The shouts were louder, and she could hear steel on steel: a sound familiar to anyone who'd lived in Scurvytown. The man yanked open the door, the bolt leaping from his crossbow just before six inches of slender steel emerged from his back, and he crumpled to the ground.

She grabbed the blanket like it was a shield, knowing it wouldn't hide or protect her - but the face that looked in was the scarred elven woman from that afternoon.  The elf scanned the room for anyone else, barely registering Coral's presence, and was gone.

The shouts continued, and then fell silent.  She could hear voices.  Slowly, she uncurled from the bed, creeping forward towards the light streaming in from the door.  Her hand landed in something warm and sticky, and she struggled to not look down as she crawled forward to look into the other room.

The elven woman was there, and her friend.  There was a little guy she thought she recognized too, a smuggler or something.  A giant man with a hammer and a Watchman's badge stood at the hallway door, and an armored but unarmed woman stood beside him.  A couple of the men she'd been with were still standing, more were unmoving on the floor - and then there was Jallarzi.

Claws of inky black shadow oozed from her arms, stretching out across the room to grasp the throats of two bound girls - dressed in men's clothes.  Two more trembled in terror next to them.  The sorceress smiled at the elves. "Drop your weapons and surrender."

The scarred elf's voice was flat. "No."

The claws started to tighten.

The elf's sword was a flash of silver as she leapt forward over the blade of one of the thugs, the edge slashing through the shadow-stuff and then reversing to send the point slamming home beneath Jallarzi's breastbone to emerge from her collar.  The sorceress was lifted to her toes by the force of the blow, and then her weight sagged.  In short order her companions joined her in death.

The bound girls were freed, and the entire bizarre assemblage thundered downstairs, leaving Coral alone, kneeling in a pool of congealing blood, wondering what had just happened, and whether Jedda was all right.

Then the shouting resumed outside, and Coral rushed to the window.  In the street below she could see even more Watchmen, and a single hooded and cloaked figure holding a rapier on the street behind them.  One of the girls was lying on the ground.

Coral could barely follow the action.  A sphere of flame launched itself towards the cloaked figure, with the axe-weilding elf charging in its wake, only to be slammed to the ground by the man's blade.  A Watchman wielding an enormous sword stepped forward and gestured, and she could see a column of force slam into the attacker like a battering ram, forcing him back.

The hooded man stretched out his hand, and something flew from it, to explode in a ball of vile green that enveloped him and most of the Watchmen.  When it dissipated, only two were left standing.

Steam rose from the Watchman as the acid burned away at him, but the hooded mage was unharmed.  He stooped down to grasp the elf by the throat, lifting him from the street, and then vanished.






"Captain Roberts."

"Thank you for saving my daughter, Watch-Lieutenant."

"Now that she's safe - what did they ask you for?"

"It wasn't money - they want control of the city."

"We'd figured that out.  They have a Drac candidate that they want to put on the Sea Lord's Throne."

"...no - they wanted me to vote to repeal the law."






Dru crept through the darkened streets of the _kesir_.  With Ellerand's capture, this made the second time they'd had to pick up their operations and move them.  Fortunately, the Naïlo organization traveled light.

But there was one thing that she needed, from the house that had been abandoned after Ivellimor's disastrous raid.  She wasn't about to leave it behind, not after paying for it in blood.

The house stood silent and dark - but a window next to the back door was broken, the shutter hanging from a single hinge.  _Looks like someone's already been here.  I'll have to be careful._

Disdaining the door, she slipped in the window herself.  The furniture was all present.  In fact, the house didn't seem to have been ransacked at all.  _Strange. What did the intruders want, then?_  She let her feet carry her cautiously down the hall to the room she had used.

The door was ajar, and she could see a flickering light from inside.

_I'm getting tired of finding doors like this,_ Dru grumbled to herself, moving forward, silent as a shadow, one hand on the hilt of her blade, peering through the half-open door.

The Jade Serpent sat in the center of her room, surrounded by candles.  A hammered copper bowl in front of it held the corpse of a dead rat, and the scent of incense hung in the air.  Five serpentine figures turned to look at the door.

And bowed.

_- End of Session Nine -_


----------



## Jon Potter

WOW!!

Now THAT was a great update.

You nicely captured the slimy nature of Dreaming Street and I love the recurring importance of the Jade Serpent. Although it was a hoot seeing a millenia-old artifact being used as a doorstop, you had to know it wouldn't remain unnoticed forever.


----------



## Serps

Very, very cool.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Eye Candy!*

The next morning's edition of The Shipping News brought some surprises to our heroes.  

It also brought a cameo from the runner-up in the 'code contest', so a big 'hello' to Zarthon, the first of my readers to die - messily! - for the story hour.   (Jon, I'm still working on yours.)

More update later, as Di'Fier prepares to address the Captain's Council to attempt to prevent the Dragon's Claw from seizing political power in the city...

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part One: Di'Fier's Speech*

_The address of Watch-Lieutenant Di'Fier to the Captain's Council, as transcribed by Jephthys Carter, Council Recorder._

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Captains' Council, I come to you as Freeport yet again stands of the brink of disaster.  Forces from outside the city threaten to tear it apart.  You all have heard of the wave of violence that has enveloped the city.  The Council's current solution not only forwards the plans of those interlopers who threaten the city but also is as impossible a task as holding back the tide.

As you may know the current violence is a direct effect of a war in the underworld between Freeport's established Crime organizations and a new more dangerous faction that wants to control Freeport.  This new faction has worked hard to remain anonymous.  But no more.

The Dragon's Claw of Highgate has come to Freeport.

Their sights are set much higher than just controlling the underworld of Freeport.

Seven days ago, the Dragon's Claw kidnapped the daughters of a number of influential Freeport citizens.  The target of their kidnapping was Nifur Roberts, daughter of Captain Marcus Roberts.

Using the lives of the girls as leverage the Dragon's Claw first used the Watch to do their dirty work bringing in their competition, having Captain Roberts suggest the current Watch crackdown on crime.

Their next step was to influence the vote on the Drac petition.   Captain Roberts was to change his vote to repeal the law for the final vote, thus opening the position for someone who was their puppet.  They would not have stopped there.  Once the Sea Lord-

_end of available transcription_


----------



## Ruined

Ack!  You can't stop like that!  Where's that guy with the transcript?  When I get my hands on him...


----------



## Harvester

*Di'Fier gets slapped in the face again...*

Whoops! Looks like the Freeport Shipping News just can't get it right... or, and this is my suspicion, the writer and/or editor just doesn't like Di'Fier...

In the latest issue of The Shipping News, the editor printed a retraction about the C.S.U. not being leaderless with Watch-Lieutenant Dru's departure. Oh no, it still has Watch-SERGEANT Di'Fier as it's leader...

Poor Di'Fier - just can't get no satisfaction.

H


----------



## DiFier

theRuinedOne said:
			
		

> *Ack!  You can't stop like that!  Where's that guy with the transcript?  When I get my hands on him... *




That wouldn't help.  It's not his fault.  you'll see.  there will be someone else you'll want to strangle.


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Di'Fier gets slapped in the face again...*



			
				Harvester said:
			
		

> *Whoops! Looks like the Freeport Shipping News just can't get it right... or, and this is my suspicion, the writer and/or editor just doesn't like Di'Fier...
> 
> In the latest issue of The Shipping News, the editor printed a retraction about the C.S.U. not being leaderless with Watch-Lieutenant Dru's departure. Oh no, it still has Watch-SERGEANT Di'Fier as it's leader...
> 
> Poor Di'Fier - just can't get no satisfaction.
> 
> H *




Just wait till tommorow's Shipping news


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Di'Fier gets slapped in the face again...*



			
				DiFier said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Just wait till tommorow's Shipping news *




Which, I feel I should mention as a sort of 'truth in advertising' measure, I did not actually write up.  There's some other...interesting documents...that should show up, though.

J


----------



## Zarthon

Great update as usual doc 

I really like the way you did "Coral's story".

Game on.


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Re: Re: Di'Fier gets slapped in the face again...*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Which, I feel I should mention as a sort of 'truth in advertising' measure, I did not actually write up.  There's some other...interesting documents...that should show up, though.
> 
> J *




Well We can just imagine what was said.  Di'Fier had an interisting day.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part Two: Di'Fier's Very Bad Day*

Di'Fier stood before the Captain's Council, nervously clutching the piece of paper on which he'd scrawled his speech.  Oddly - ominously, perhaps - the two strongest contenders for the position of Sea Lord had not yet arrived.

_Arias Soderheim and Lady Elise Grossette,_ he pondered. _Which one of them has the backing of the claw?_  He hoped it wasn't Lady Elise.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Captain's Council..." he began.

As Di'Fier began to speak, Katya noticed Quooral appear at the door.  The big genasi looked concerned, and she made her way over to him.  "What's going on?"

Wordlessly, Quooral pointed down the hall and out the door.  Katya could see a large group of people approaching - but even from here, she could tell it was no mob.  They were marching in formation.

Behind her, Di'Fier continued: "The Dragon's Claw of Highgate has come to Freeport."

Katya watched as the troops marched through the gates of the palace.  At their head, Arias Soderheim, his velvet jerkin streaked with drying blood, and beside him Captain Donnach.  She had never seen the Captain look like this: crumpled, battered...defeated.

"Stand aside, Watch-Sergeant," the Captain said quietly.

Di'Fier was dimly aware of more people entering the room, but he kept his mind on the Council, fixing each of them with his gaze as they looked up and began to murmur.  "They would not have stopped there.  Once the Sea Lord-"

"Stop this at once!"  The commanding voice of Arias Soderheim rang across the Council chamber, cutting through the Watch-Lieutenant's words.  The half-elf let the silence ring for a moment, then turned to the man beside him.  "Watch-Captain, do your duty."

Donnach, his eyes fixed on the ground before him, withdrew a parchment bearing a heavy seal.  "Watch-Lieutenant Di'Fier," he said, opening it. "I have been given a warrant for your arrest."

"Warrant?" Katya exploded. "On what charge?"

Donnach's eyes finally lifted from the floor to meet hers, and his words fell like lead. "Conspiracy to commit murder. Theft of material evidence.  Aiding and abetting a criminal organization."  The Watch-Captain hesitated, and looked down at the paper as if for confirmation. "...and High Treason."






Di'Fier sat down on the stone floor of the cell, placing his back to the wall and looking sourly at the broken bench.  He could tell the cell hasn't been used in some time - probably not since the Sea Lord's Guard had been in charge of law enforcement.  It showed every sign of being a hastily cleared storage area.  Besides the broken bench and a battered chamberpot, a few wisps of straw were the only furnishings.

His mind was still reeling from the events of the morning.  Soderheim's arrival at the Council meeting...his arrest...and the shocking announcement that Lady Elise had been murdered - shot by one of the strange weapons they had taken from the "ghost ship".  And the murderer was none other than Andrea Blax.

How had they known about the guns that Dru had taken?  It was just one link in the tenuous web that connected him to the murder.  He'd given the guns to Dru - and thus, the Naïlos.  Dru had been seen talking to Blax.  And now, with the deaths of both Lady Elise and Mikros Stonemason - apparently also engineered by the Naïlos - all the obvious signs pointed to a conspiracy to get Blax into power.

_Which,_ he reflected, _does a nice job of removing Blax from the picture.  Leaving only our good "friend" Soderheim._

His stomach began to growl.






Late afternoon, and still no sign of human life.  Di'Fier had fashioned the straw into a crude hand-broom and swept some of the dust into a thick mat, which he was now writing in with his finger.

It was not going well.

"I know I wanted some time off for my research, but this isn't what I had in mind," he grumbled.  His stomach answered with a complaint of its own.  When were they going to feed him? Or _were_ they?  Maybe Soderheim was already the Sea Lord, and had issued an executive order that he be forgotten?

Di'Fier got up and began to pace.






The last of the light had long since slipped away from the tiny barred window, plunging the cell into an almost insufferable gloom.  Di'Fier's eyes had adjusted as well as they could.

Banging on the bars with the remnants of broken bench had proved fruitless, as had shouts both out the door and window.  At least Ampiel had gotten through to Jemis.  Hopefully the little smuggler would be able to tell which books were the spellbooks, and keep them safe.  He got up and began to pace again.

A flagstone shifted under his feet.

Slowly, he backed away, watching the stone begin to lift itself.  Inhuman hands pushed it up from the floor and slid it back, then climbed into the cell with sinuous grace.

Di'Fier seized the section of broken bench and held it threateningly before him as a second serpentman crawled forth from the hole, tongue tasting the air.

Then, a third figure emerged, and a very familiar voice said, "Do you want to get out of here or not?"






The next morning, an astonished member of the Sea Lord's Guard stared open-mouthed at the empty cell.

Empty?

Not quite.

Written in the thick dust coating the floor were five words:

"You should have fed me."


----------



## Thorntangle

Return of the Serpentmen - excellent! Your updates have been coming fast and furious, Doc. Much thanks from your fans.

The question now is: How did they find out about the guns? Who's the rat?


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *
> The question now is: How did they find out about the guns?*




How indeed?  There's a very short list of people who know about the guns - Dru, her father and a few selected Naïlos; Di'Fier, the SCU, Jaffar, and Captain Donnach; and of course the Dragon's Claw knows of their existence in a general sense but not their specific disposition.

J


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Ten, Part Two: Di'Fier's Very Bad Day*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *The next morning, an astonished member of the Sea Lord's Guard stared open-mouthed at the empty cell.
> 
> Empty?
> 
> Not quite.
> 
> Written in the thick dust coating the floor were five words:
> 
> "You should have fed me." *




I love it, I just love it


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Ten, Part Three: The Succession Law*

Four heads broke the surface of the water that poured through the storm sewers of the city.

"It's a good thing we had that day without rain," Dru said, pushing her hair back from her forehead.  "Otherwise these tunnels would be completely flooded and we'd never have gotten you out."

Di'Fier released his grip on the serpentman, grabbing hold of the ladder that led up to the surface, staring at his bizarre saviors.  "But...where did you _get_ them?"

Dru shrugged, grabbing onto the ladder herself.  "When I went back to get the Jade Serpent, there they were. They don't speak Common, so I'm not exactly sure what they want, but they do what I tell them to.  Their leader - he's a priest, or something like that - cast a spell so he could understand me."  She looked away, down the darkness of the tunnel, and then back at her ex-partner.  "For what it's worth, we didn't use those guns."

Di'Fier nodded. "It was too pat.  Although...I _am_ guilty of two of the charges, I suppose."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Do you think you can find me a safe place?  I need to talk to Jemis.  He's got my spellbooks - Katya's got the rest of my stuff."  Di'Fier looked around him in disgust.  "After that, I'm about ready to let this city rot."







Jemis set the sack of books down. "I wasn't sure which ones were the spellbooks," he panted. "So I just grabbed all of them.  Except the adventure novels."

Dru nodded. "I'll take these to Di'Fier.  What does the rest of the SCU think about this?"

Jemis shook his head. "I'm not sure.  Katya's been upset over something for a while - I guess she knew about the guns?"  At Dru's nod, he continued. "Quooral is...Quooral.  I think he'd go along with whatever Katya said, since she's in charge now.  Ashrem is hard to read, and Glunnyn...I'm not sure he's even noticed.  He's wrapped up in figuring out how those weapons work."

"Thanks for bringing the books, Jemis.  They'll help him out a lot."  Dru grabbed the top of the bag, but the little smuggler made no move to leave.

Instead, he looked at Dru sadly.  "You know, I was real p-ssed at you for leaving.  I thought you were giving up.  But now, after this...maybe you're the only one who did the right thing."

"Good luck."

"You too. Take care of yourself, Dru."






Di'Fier couldn't help but grin.  It had only been a few days since they had last met for breakfast, but it seemed like half a lifetime.  Across from him, Dru was setting about the business of shoveling as much food into her mouth as she could.

A young boy entered the tavern, carrying a stack of broadhseets.  Di'Fier waved him over and dropped a couple of coppers into his palm, then took one and flipped it open.  He let his breath out slowly as his spirits sank.

"They repealed the succession law," he told Dru.

"What?" She snatched the paper from him, her sausage forgotten. "Who did they turn?"

"Looks like Arnig and Wallace changed their votes."

Dru scanned the article. "'A tearful Soderheim brought the news of Lady Elise's death to the Council in the process of arresting one Watch-Lieutenant Di'Fier, suspected of complicity in the murder.'  Yeah, I'll bet he'll be crying all the way to the Sea Lord's palace."

"At least they got my name right," Di'Fier pointed out.  "It says the election is tomorrow.  So we've got some time to plan."


----------



## ShawnLStroud

*And a Bad Situation Gets Worse*

Doc;

Wonderful twist of fate for Di'Fier!  Massive kudos for having intelligent, crafty opponents that (seem to) have outwitted your PCs.  Now I'm wondering, what can our two heros do?  Can they clear DiFier's name?  Will they want to?  And, more importantly, who's going to die in a bloody mess next?


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Ha!  They're running scared, they just don't know it yet.


----------



## Vurt

Nice election-timing irony going.  Now update already!  I've been sitting on the edge of my seat so long I think by backside's bonded with the upholstery...

Please???

-- Vurt


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eleven, Part One: Together Again*

Dru drummed her fingers on the table, looking across at her former partner.  The spell he'd used to alter his appearance so that he could go buy components hadn't worn off yet, and it was a bit disconcerting to be sitting across what seemed to be a scarred blonde man from the mainland - a man who now was gaping at her in amazement.

"But...I can't," he protested.  "I'm a Wat-" Then he cut himself off.  "I guess I'm not anymore," he admitted. "At least for now."

Dru nodded. "And you and I have more experience dealing with the Dragon's Claw than anybody else in the organization - which is why he wants us there."

"I can't believe he wants us to go to the meeting with Finn and Gallowglass."

Dru smirked. "Well? Will you come work with us?"

The ex-Watchman grinned. "Why not? We're just destined to be together, I guess."






"...so I'm fairly certain they used magic to locate where we had taken the weapons," Di'Fier was explaining as they entered the safehouse.  "Which explains how they knew you had half of them.  And if they've got a store of their own - which they must, since none are missing from what we took - that means that we can find them in the same way."

Kennic looked over at the pair, and his eyes flicked upward to something over the door.  Apparently satisfied, he rose to his feet to greet them. "Drusilia. We've got some interesting news from a friend of ours," he said, drawing her aside.  "The Sea Lord's Guard is going to be taking custody of the weapons that your companion gave to the Watch," he murmured.  "They'll be moved tonight."

Dru nodded. "Thank you, Kennic.  It doesn't surprise me much, considering the influence Soderheim seems to have with them."  Raising her voice and turning to include Di'Fier, she said, "I'd like to find out what made Wallace and Arnig change their votes."

Di'Fier frowned in thought for a moment.  "Captain Roberts was very well informed during the Lighthouse affair," he said slowly. "In fact, Lady Elise implied that he had quite a network of, well, spies.  Maybe we should pay him a visit."






Ampiel had set up the meeting for them.  It had taken the raven almost twenty minutes of pecking at Roberts' window to get the man to notice him, and even more to get him to open the window to try to scare the bird away, all so he could croak out a few words.  But in the end, the message was relayed, and Dru and Di'Fier slipped along the streets, trying not to look like wanted fugitives.

They reached the back door of Robert's estate, where they were admitted by a liveried doorman and shown to a sitting room.

"Captain Roberts," Di'Fier greeted.

"Dru, Di'Fier," said the Captain, as another servant brought drinks. "I understand you once again wish to pool our information regarding the current events on the Captain's Council?"

Dru nodded. "Now that we know Soderheim is working for the Dragon's Claw, we need to figure out just why Arnig and Wallace changed their votes."

Roberts sighed.  "Soderheim.  It seems his desire for power has overwhelmed his good sense."

"We're collecting the evidence now," Di'Fier offered. "With any luck, we'll be able to present it to the Council before the election.  But if we know what made those two change their votes..."

"Hmm, yes," said Roberts, considering it for a moment.  "I had expected both of them to try to keep the status quo.  Arnig is a traditionalist.  On the other hand...he and Elise were very close.  It may have been because of her wishes - or simply because he believed that there were no heirs of Drac left."

"What about Wallace?"

"That's even more of a surprise.  Wallace has his hands full with taking over the family business, and he's often said that he wants to concentrate on that rather than the politics of the city."

"What exactly is the Wallace family business?" Dru asked.

"He's in shipping.  They do a lot of trade with the mainland."

Di'Fier's full attention turned to the Captain. "Highgate?"

Roberts nodded slowly.






The evening found them back at the safehouse - Di'Fier standing uncomfortably under the wary eyes of passing elves as his partner spoke with Kennic.

"You trust him enough to bring him here," Kennic said to her. "But the safehouse can be easily abandoned.  How far do you trust him?"

"More than I trust anybody else, Kennic," Dru said. "What is this all about?"

Her old protector did not respond, instead guiding the two of them into a room - probably the one Tensin used as an office, judging from the apearance.  Closing the door, he turned to the pair. "We are in a position of no small difficulty," he said.  "In an hour, the heads of the city's underworld will meet for a war council to determine how best to fight the Dragon's Claw..." He hesitated, then turned to look at Dru. "And your father and Galanodel have vanished."


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eleven, Part Two: A Meeting of the Minds (I)*

"Vanished?" said Dru.  "What do you _mean_, vanished?"

Di'Fier recognized the edge in her voice.  It meant that someone was going to get hurt.  Probably very soon.  If they were lucky, it might even be whoever was responsible for the disappearance.

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you _mean_, vanished?"

"Drusilia."  Kennic's voice snapped Dru back to reality.  "We cannot afford for this to become public, not now.  Whatever's happened, this meeting cannot be disrupted."

"The hell with the meeting.  If Papa's missing, I want to know what happened."

Kennic sighed.  "After speaking with you last night...he vanished.  Your betrothed as well.  No messages, no signs of a struggle..."

_Vanished...Papa and Galanodel both...they must have done it deliberately - what could have taken both of them without a struggle?_  Dru's mind raced through the possibilities.  And then she remembered the first time she'd met Galanodel, in the restaurant.  How he had vanished from the chair, and somehow appeared on the balcony above.  _Papa trusts him...he could get close..._.

"It must have been an inside job," she said. "If it wasn't deliberate.  Kennic, I know you feel like it's not your place, but I need you to tell me about Galanodel.  And Amalyth."

The older elf seemed to crumple back into his chair.  "Yes.  I suppose you do have that right."  He seemed to be as willing to forget Di'Fier's presence as Dru was, and for the first time, she understood how worried he was.  _Surely if it was deliberate, Papa would have told him..._

"Galanodel is a member of a...family, called the Feris.  They are not in our line of work, but in one with whome cooperation would be mutually benefical to both the Feris and your father.  That was the capacity in which he met your father, in fact, during the war with Kaden and his men."

_An assassin,_ Dru realized.  And elven assassins were well known for their patience.  She shook her head, not wanting to believe the possibility.  "And what about Amalyth?"

Kennic refused to met her eyes.  "She is your half-sister, as you no doubt have guessed," he confirmed.  "Even I do not know Tensin's reason for fathering her."

"She hates me." Dru thought back to the only time they'd met face to face - when she had been trying to find someone to translate for her newfound followers, she had looked up Garto's friend, Gothos.  Amalyth had draped herself over the half-clad elf, much to his embarassment, and the look she had given Dru was one of pure malice.  _She's probably behind this._  "Is she ruthless?"

"Ruthless enough to survive as a half-human in your father's organization."

_That b-tch!  When I get my hands on her..._ Dru was jerked back to the matter at hand by Kennic's voice.

"We must not let this get out," he was saying.  "The talks with the other leaders cannot be jeopardized."

"We'll need to come up with a convincing reason why Tensin isn't there," said Di'Fier finally.






"Where's Tensin?" Finn demanded, voicing the question that was on all of their minds.  The halfling had been the last of them to show up - his lieutenant, Dunbar, trailing behind like a giant loyal watchdog.

Dru let her gaze pass over each of the assembled crimelords.  Patch Carty and Bloody Jack were scowling at each other across the table.  The longstanding feud between the Cutthroats and the Buccaneers was legendary in the Docks, and she'd busted members of both gangs more times than she cared to count.

The muscular, mustachioed Gallowglass was a different story.  The Blue Lanterns started as simple smugglers, but they'd grown from those humble beginnings into something to be reckoned with.  Rumor had it that Gallowglass had been some kind of mercenary before heading to Freeport and taking over the Lanterns from their previous leader - who had hired him for security.  He was a man that bore careful scrutiny.

"Tensin is being watched," she said carefully. "Apparently rumor of this meeting got out.  He sent me instead.  After all, it's my organization."

"And I assume you have a good reason for bringing the ex-Watchman?"

"He's working for us, now."

Finn looked the tall wizard over speculatively.  "I should have made you a better offer."






"This doesn't sound like the Claw," Finn objected.  "I dealt with them in Highgate.  They are subtle - they take over their competition through trickery and enchantment, not fireballs and murder."

"About as subtle as a brick through the window," Galloglass concurred.

"This isn't the Highgate claw."  Di'Fier stood, starting to pace back and forth, as he often did when he was deep in thought. "The son is in charge, and he's brought the ones that don't fit in.  Maybe he has something to prove?"

Gallowglass' voice cut through the room.  "Are they here to prove themselves? Or to break away?"


----------



## DiFier

I might be misremembering things cause it has been a bit since we played this but aren't there some important pieces missing?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eleven, Part Three: A Meeting of the Minds (II)*

"So what are we going to do?" growned the Bosun. "I was hoping the leafeater would have an idea, but he's gone and left a complete tyro in charge..."

"I'd watch yourself." Dru looked Carty over coolly. "And remember who is responsible for the current vacancies on the Captain's Council."

Sol Gallowglass leaned forward. "We all know how we'd conduct a war," he put in.  "Hit them in the pocketbooks.  But they're not earning, not enough to support a venture this size, not in Scurvytown.  He's got to have backing."

"You're right," replied Di'Fier.  "There are only two people I can think of that may have housed Dragosani, and given backing to his people.  The first is Tarmon of the Wizard's Guild.  The Dragosanis were the Guild's honored guests at a dinner earlier this year.  Fortunately, the evidence points to the other suspect."

"Who is?"

"Torsten Roth."

The room sat in silence for a moment, before Finn finally spoke. "Roth is in Tensin's pocket," he said flatly.

Di'Fier nodded. "But perhaps he doesn't want to be there.  The Naïlo mages tracked down three caches of weapons like the ones used to kill Lady Elise. One was in their own possession, one was with the Watch, and the third..." He took a breath.  "The third was in the basement of the Merchant's Guild."






A lone wagon moved unescorted through the glistening city streets, drawn by a single horse.  Rain-soaked boxes and barrels were stacked haphazardly in the bed, rocking with the movement of the wheels over the cobbles.  The driver rubbed at his moustache, and made sure that his cloak was pulled to cover the copper badge at his belt.

It was perhaps strange that such an important cargo was being transported through the streets of the most notorious city in the world with only a single Watchman assigned to protect it.  Then again, a large group of men would have only attracted attention, and for some reason the recipients seemed anxious to avoid such things.

The driver pulled on the reins, and the wagon turned a smooth arc onto a side street.  It would take him towards the headquarters of the Sea Lord's Guard, where the mysterious barrels and bundles that were the true cargo would be unloaded and he would be sent off to report a mission completed.

Unless, of course, the people standing in the road had something to say about it.  Three of them, all elves, all with their attention focused on him.  No - more.  He caught sight of movement along a rooftop in the rain, a patch of too-dark night that he was intended to see.

Lamplight shone on a length of blade as the foremost elf approached him, leveling the sword at the Watchman, who was climbing down from the wagon seat.

"I believe the phrase is 'stand and deliver'," said Lady Grey, smiling coolly.

The watchman raised his arms. "Oh. Please. Don't hurt me," rasped Jaffar.






"Wasn't it Roth's warehouse that was burned?" Gallowglass objected.

Dru nodded. "But what's a warehouse to someone like him?  Especially if it wasn't being used to store anything truly valuable."

The ex-mercenary nodded. "And he'd have known about the smuggling."

"Roth never struck me as particularly trustworthy," Dru said.  "Someone that can be bought once can be bought again and again, like a whore."

"Sounds like someone needs to pay him a midnight visit."

Dru smiled. "Oh...we will."






Di'Fier tugged his cloak closer around him.  He was still uncomfortable sharing all of their information with the city's biggest crime leaders, but if it helped them get rid of the Claw then it needed to be done.  Carty and his Buccaneers were going to stir up trouble in Scurvytown, based on the information that Di'Fier had gotten from the captured Vagn.  Finn's social contacts would be busy spreading the rumor that the stolen weapons had been taken to the Merchant's Guild.  

As for Dru and Di'Fier...they were rapidly appraching a small, squat, but well-defended house on the edge of the Eastern District.  It had to be the last of those, being the house of one of the city's most notorious judges.  A judge who just happened to owe them a favor.






"Jemis."

The little man started awake at the sound of his name. "Huh? Wha-? Dru?"

"Shh.  Get the SCU. Take them to Judge Ubu's house.  He's got a warrant for you."

"A warrant? What-?"

"You're going to search the merchant's guild for the stolen weapons."

"Stolen? But the Sea-"

"The Sea Lord's Guard never got them.  The shipment was hijacked earlier tonight.  Some witnesses have come forth claiming that the weapons are in the Guild basement, and so there is a warrant to search that building."  Dru grinned.  "Good luck."  Then she was gone.






Another street, another house.  _This is getting repetetive,_ Di'Fier thought.  _At least it's the last one for tonight._  The spell of invisibility cloaked him securely, and next to him Dru was wrapped in the shadowy folds of an elven-made cloak, making her almost as difficult to see.

Up the side of the house they went, to the balcony.  Dru's modest skill with locks proved enough to open the casement doors, and they slipped inside.  Only one room had lamplight burning in it, and they crept towards it, silent and cautious.  It stood partially ajar, a dim line of flickering light spilling out into the hallway.

_I'm beginning to hate finding doors like this,_ thought Dru, as she moved forward.  She could hear the heavier tread of her once-again partner behind her as she reached out a hand and pushed the door wider open.

An enormous figure sat at a desk, his back to the pair, bent over a book.  _Not Roth, then,_ Dru thought - but was interrupted by a savage hiss.  A tiny winged lizard - no, a miniature dragon - had raised its head from the desk and was staring at Dru, fangs bared.

The seated figure turned its head, revealing a profile that was not human in the slightest.

_- End of Session Eleven -_


----------



## Thorntangle

Sweet Baby Jebus this plot is tangled! And I've got the attention span of a crack-addict hamster. I've read from the beginning, but now I feel that I've come in mid-season on year three of The X Files.

Can some kind soul post a summary to bring me back up to speed? Or email me some kind of visio flowchart of names, places and plots?


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Sweet Baby Jebus this plot is tangled! And I've got the attention span of a crack-addict hamster. I've read from the beginning, but now I feel that I've come in mid-season on year three of The X Files.
> 
> Can some kind soul post a summary to bring me back up to speed? Or email me some kind of visio flowchart of names, places and plots?  *




Yes, please!  I could use one too!

(you know its bad when the DM confuses himself)

It's all very simple you see.  Tensin Naïlo is blackmailing Torsten Roth, whose warehouse he uses for narcotics smuggling.  Torsten is selling him out to the Dragon's Claw, who want to take over the underworld of the City of Freeport, just like they did in Highgate.  Ulric Dragosani is the local head of the Dragon's Claw, but he wants more than just the underworld, he wants the entire city.  He kidnaps Nifur Roberts to get control over Capt. Marcus Roberts, and uses that influence to start a citywide crackdown on crime, aimed at eliminating his competition or at least driving them underground.  Meanwhile, Tensin uses emotional blackmail to get his daughter Dru to abandon the watch and rejoin him.

Ulric tries to import the new wheel-lock firearms manufactured in Highgate by Kolter Clockworks, but his plan is foiled by Dru and Di'Fier, who split the guns between them.  Using magic, the Dragon's Claw locates the guns and figures out what happened.  Meanwhile, using good old-fashioned bribery, Dru locates the missing Nifur Roberts and the Naïlos and the SCU team up for a rescue - discovering that Dragosani wants the succession law to be repealed.

Lady Elise Grossette and Arias Soderheim both want to become the Sea Lord, as does purported Drac descendant Andrea Blax.  Soderheim, apparently with the backing of the Dragon's Claw, somehow manages Blax to murder Lady Elise, and then frames Dru and Di'Fier for involvement in the murder (via the possession of the guns).  Di'Fier is imprisoned, but rescued by Dru and her new serpentman followers, who have come because of the Jade Serpent of Yig.  Meanwhile, Tensin arranges for a meeting of the criminal heads of Freeport, but vanishes shortly before it, leading some to suspect foul play from his right-hand enforcer and Dru's fiancé, Galanodel (also missing).  

The guns that were handed over to the Watch mysteriously vanish before winding up in the custody of the Sea Lord's Guard, and Naïlo mages discover a third cache of weapons in the basement of the Merchant's Guild.  Dru and Di'Fier call in a favor from Judge Ubu (last seen chained to a bed in the Jolly Roger) and sic the SCU on the Guild, hoping to prove Roth's involvement.

So now all our heros have to do is stop Soderheim from being elected Sea Lord and drive the Dragon's Claw out of Freeport once and for all.  If they survive their encounter with Ulric Dragosani...

Whew.  I _think_ I covered everything...since the 'Mob War' storyline is over in game play I'll be happy to take questions from the audience. 

J


----------



## Thorntangle

Excellent summary, Doc. And my hat is off to your DM skills at handling this briar patch of an adventure.

Was it ever revealed, at this point in the plot, who was tailing Dru and assuming her identity? Was it a Dragon's Claw agent?


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Was it ever revealed, at this point in the plot, who was tailing Dru and assuming her identity? Was it a Dragon's Claw agent? *




They pretty much figured it was a Claw operative, and they were right - although they never found specifically which one. (Dru will be happy to know that it was Jallarzi the Black, the sorceress she ran through while rescuing Nifur Roberts.)

J


----------



## DiFier

There was a bit the Dr. N left out I'll add it for some fun.

this occurs as Dru and Di'Fier arrive at Judge Ubu's house.

Di'Fier knocks on the heavy wooden door, with the unmistakable rap of a watchman.
After a few seconds the slot opens and an annoyed voice asks, "What?"
"we need to talk to Judge Ubu. it is important." Dru tells the pair eyes peering through the door at them.
"Judge Ubu is asleep.  come back in the morning"
"Tell him it is Dru and Di'Fier"
The skin around the eyes peering through the slot goes pale ". . . the wanted murders?"
"No . . . different dru and Di'Fier altogether."  Di'fier responds with enough conviction to talk his way back out of Hades.*
The Door opens.  "Wait here, and don't make a noise."  He then scurries off with a look of confusion on his face.

*O.K. so he wasn't that convincing but considering that DF get a wopping +0 to his bluff checks and just happened to roll a 19 (or was it a 20) I had to exegerate a bit


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *Di'Fier responds with enough conviction to talk his way back out of Hades.*




...we'll just see about that in Book Three.

J
(the adventure's been out for a year and a half, it's not _really_ a spoiler, is it?)


----------



## Zarthon

Great update Doc, I really liked the summary of events 
(I was beginning to have to reread the story to know what as going on  )


----------



## DiFier

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Sweet Baby Jebus this plot is tangled!*




I'm gonna try to explain the guns situation. cause I think it is a little confusing.   there are 4 stockholds of guns at this point in the story.  (we've only run into 3 the where abouts of the 4th is unknown*).  

stockhold 1 and 2 were taken by Dru and Di'Fier from the ghost ship and the 1st went to the watch while the 2nd went to the Naïlo organization.  The 3rd stockhold is in the Merchant's guild.

after Di'Fier's arrest for the murder of lady Elise* the sealord's guard request's that the first stockhold (at the watch) be transfered to them.   After informing the Naïlo's about the transfer Jaffar is told to volunteer to transport them.  Dru and Di'Fier with the help of some of the Naïlo wizards search the city and find 3 seperate locations that have guns (the above mentioned 3 stockholds*) The thrid is, surprise, surprise, at the merchents guild.  Dru and Di'fier see an oportunity.  knowing that the Naïlo's will steal the Watch's stockhold of guns during the transfer to the Sea Lord's Guard, The hatch a plan to get the 3rd stockhold away from the dragon's claw.  Our hero's arange for a warrent to be issued to search for guns at the merchent's guild.  they tell the SCU that the stolen guns are at the guild when the SCU searches the guild they find guns.  now the Naïlo have all the guns that came from the ghost ship and the watch has what was being stored at the merchents guild.  only Jemis, Katya and perhaps Capt. Donnach know the exact number of weapons that the watch originally had.  I don't know if the realized that they had a different set of weapons.  (Dr. N?).  

Dru and Di'Fier thought that they had switched things up on the dragons claw.  rather then them having 2/3 of the guns in freeport they have none.  but as you will see or heros are mistaken.   

* Dr. N you'll have to tell us where the 4th group was and which group the weapon that killed Lady Elise came from.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twelve, Part One: Confrontation*

The face that turned to regard them was not human in the slightest.

Scales covered it.  Unblinking yellow eyes looked forth from below the heavy brow.  Its mouth had no lips, but intstead a draconian snout.

As one, three blades whispered from their scabbards.

Di'Fier shifted his invisible grip on the unfamiliar longsword - the one he'd taken from Maeorgan at the lighthouse - and tensed.  The little dragonet was staring at him, not at Dru, and he had the sinking suspicion that it knew he was here. He muttered the words to a spell under his breath, feeling the strength pulse through his muscles.

"You are very brave, to come with one person as backup," said Ulric Dragosani.  "And very clever to find me at all." He spoke a word in the harsh Draconic tongue, and liquid dripped from his blade to sizzle on the floor below. "I expect, then, that you plan to kill me."

"You're not exactly leaving me much choice," was Dru's response.

The half-dragon shrugged slightly.  "Your father was stubborn.  If you are not..."

_What did he mean by that?  Is he behind Papa's disappearance, too?_ Her eyes roamed over the room - and with surprise, she picked out another figure seated in the shadows, armored but unarmed.  Her pulse thudded as she thought for a moment it was Galanodel, but when he moved into the light, she could see the broad shoulders and muscular definition that an elf could never have.

Her eyes moved back to Ulric, who shared a smile, as if he approved that she was able to spot his bodyguard.  "So is that what you do when people don't agree with you?" she asked, in a tone scarcely less caustic than the blade Ulric bore.  "You eliminate them?"

The crimelord's expression was placid, his words calm and mild.  "Isn't that what you do?"

"_Yes._" 

Her blade darted forward, the weight of her body behind it - but Ulric's guard spun him out of the way, chain spilling impossibly from a gloved hand that had been empty a moment before. Dru recovered, slashed before he could use the chain to defend himself, and bright blood welled up beneath her blade.

"_Throdensthyr._" Images of Ulric began to peel away from him, stepping to right and left.  Almost immediately, two were struck by bursts of deadly magelight from a suddenly visible Di'Fier, shredding them back into the ether that formed them. A third bolt slammed into the bodyguard, knocking his blow wide.  The man growled, lashing his chain in a tight arc that caught Dru across the ribs.

_Oh well, I can't parry that thing anyway,_ Dru thought, and leapt to the attack, heedless of her own welfare. She saw how the chain spun around the bodyguard - and exploited the opening she found, sinking her blade deep into shoulder and thigh.  Di'Fier's blade slammed into the man's side as his defenses faltered.

The smell of ozone crackled through the air as globes of lightning swam towards her, veering to ground themselves on her blade.  She could feel the energy course up her arm, making her hand convulse, and she could smell burnt hair - but somehow she kept her grip as the chain-weilder came at her.

The two ends of the weapon lashed out, wrapping around her leg and Di'Fier's, and the bodyguard triumphantly hauled upwards - to no avail.  Tensin had sent her sprawling enough in the gardens during her traning that she was ready for it, and Di'Fier's stance was wide and stable.  She shared a glance with her partner, and as one, they both stepped back, jerking the surprised bodyguard to land on his face.

"Take some lessons," she sneered, driving her blade home.

The five Ulrics looked sadly at the prone form of his - their? - protector. "Sularid, you disappoint me. Prydmortus! Come."  The dragonet lifted from the desk, arcing through the air towards her master.

_He's getting away!_ The thought filled Di'Fier's mind, and he flung out his arm in a desperate attempt to stop him with a spell. A jagged chunk of ice flew from his fingers, impacting on the bookshelf behind them, and exploded.

_This is going to hurt,_ thought Dru, as she saw the spell fly.


----------



## Sniktch

Woo!  Nice work, Dr.  Now that I'm finally caught up on Book II its time for me to look up Book I and see how it all kicked off.

Sounds like Book III is going to be Hell in Freeport.  Can't wait to see how that plays out, as its the only Freeport module I haven't picked up yet.


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Session Twelve, Part One: Confrontation*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *He's getting away! The thought filled Di'Fier's mind, and he flung out his arm in a desperate attempt to stop him with a spell. A jagged chunk of ice flew from his fingers, impacting on the bookshelf behind them, and exploded.
> 
> This is going to hurt, thought Dru, as she saw the spell fly. *




I've got to stop using that spell in enclosed places


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Twelve, Part One: Confrontation*



			
				DiFier said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I've got to stop using that spell in enclosed places *




Everyone that played 1e remembers having a character toasted by a misplaced fireball that expanded out of the room it was sent into...Di'Fier has managed somehow to recreate that effect with his _ice burst_ spell.  I think he's cast it 3 times now, and except for the first, he's done more damage to his own side than to the enemy...

J
at least it doesn't burn down half the city, though, right?


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

It's been a few weeks, so my memory's a little fuzzy... but didn't that ice shard spell thingee do more damage to me than Ulrik's bodyguard did?  I seem to recall my hitpoints dropping a lot, but that might have been some other time.


----------



## drnuncheon

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *It's been a few weeks, so my memory's a little fuzzy... but didn't that ice shard spell thingee do more damage to me than Ulrik's bodyguard did?*




I wouldn't be surprised - the bodyguard, despite his decent levels, plenty of feats and good equipment, rolled like Di'Fier on a bad day - and consequently couldn't hit the broad side of a bookcase with his spiked chain (let alone Our Heros.)

His performance was rather embarassing, really.

J


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

I personally found his performance more than satisfactory!!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Apology/Confusion*

I have an update written, but I can't seem to post it.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twelve, Part Two: Conspiracy*

The alley was filled with the soft sound of a body arriving, not in the usual manner, but rather without occupying the intervening space.  The frost-rimed figure fell to one knee, spat on the pavement, and struggled to its feet.  From deep within the folds of its concealing cloak came a pained hiss as it staggered off into the night.







Flames exploded around the corner of the room where Dragosani had just disappeared from, and Dru reached for another globe from the necklace she had taken from Jallarzi. _And another to make sure..._

She was interrupted by a voice from behind.  "What is the meaning of this?"

Dru swung around, a fortnight of frustrated anger suddenly finding a new target in the person of Torsten Roth.  "You," she spat.  "You double crosser." She took a step. "You pathetic little worm of a round-eared human." Another.  "I ought to cut your throat right here.  Ulric Dragosani." In her mouth, the name was a curse.  "You should be ashamed of yourself."

Roth took one look at the vengeful scion of the Naïlo family - silhouetted in flame, with a bloodied blade - turned, and ran.

It was his great misfortune that he did not get far, as six feet of Watchman slammed him into the wall, and then the ground.

"You can't do this!" Roth cried, as Di'Fier began to tie him.  "I'm the Guildmaster of the Merchant's Guild!"

Dru crouched down to look at Roth's face where it was being smashed into the carpet. "Which is being searched right now."  Roth paled, and she continued. "Did you hate my father that much?"

Something inside the Guildmaster broke, and he stopped struggling against his captors.  "This was the only way I could be free of him."

"By selling out the city?  That's some impressive hate."

"I sell things.  That's what I do."

Di'Fier pulled Roth to his feet.  "Including your soul."






Captain Marcus Roberts was sound asleep when his butler entered the room and waited a moment in respectful silence before clearing his throat.

"What is it, Sykes?" he snapped.

"The...individuals you spoke with yesterday have returned, Captain.  With, if I am not mistaken, Guildmaster Roth."  The butler hesitated, before adding, "He appears to be bound and gagged rather securely, and they were rather insistent about talking to you.

Roberts shook his head to clear it. "Yes, of course.  Sykes - my wig."

Moments later, Roth entered the kitchen, where a glowering Dru held the bound and terrified Roth at knifepoint.  "Did they promise you they'd take care of my father for you?" she demanded, then looked up to see the Captain.  "He was harboring Dragosani," she offered by way of explanation.  "The scaly b-st-rd got away, though."

Roberts smiled. "Since harboring fugitives seems to be all the rage this season...may I offer you my hospitaility for the remainder of the evening? I'm sure Guildmaster Roth has much to say to us."






"There is trouble," said Dragosani, as he poured the wine.  He had resumed his human form for this meeting.

"The ex-Watchmen?" Soderheim asked.  "I warned you that merely imprisoning the one would not be enough, although even I did not expect him to walk through walls to get out."

Dragosani nodded, slipping the vial into his palm, carefully adding the contents to Soderheim's goblet.  The thick liquid swirled in the red wine a moment, then was gone.  He lifted the drinks and turned to his co-conspirator.  "They've almost certainly got Roth - which means that our plans have unraveled.  Roth will break, I'm certain of it."

Soderheim accepted the goblet, drank deeply.  "That's an unusual vintage," he commented.  "I'm not sure I recognize it."

Dragosani smiled.  "It has some added spice.  A gnomish recipe, if my memory serves." He took a drink of his own wine, set the goblet down on the sideboard. "If we are to act, we must do it at the council meeting.  After Roth's testimony, none of the Council will support you."

Soderheim nodded, loosening his collar as a flush crept up his neck. "Of course, you're right.  They'll just stand in our way."

"Then you know what you must do."


----------



## Zarthon

That was great!  Keep it up Doc


----------



## Thorntangle

Sounds like a lot of frustration is coming out now that the Big Bad Evil Guy has been revealed and flushed. How long in real-time have the players been in this module?


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Sounds like a lot of frustration is coming out now that the Big Bad Evil Guy has been revealed and flushed. How long in real-time have the players been in this module? *




Let me check my notes...

Since late July, it looks like.  And in all that we've covered just a few weeks of game time.

This is the final session of the current adventure, though, so be ready for a spectacularly bloody climax!  

Then, with session 13 (appropriately enough) our heros' fortunes take a shift for the even worse...

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twelve, Part Three: Conference*

A carriage bearing the arms of Marcus Roberts pulled up in front of the Sea Lord's palace.  None of the councillors were taking any chances after the death of Lady Elise, and many had brought guards - as Roberts had.

_That's a strange pair of arrowcatchers,_ thought the sergeant of the Sea Lord's Guard, as they emerged from the carriage.  _An elf and a human.  They look like they've been in a fight.  And why were they riding _in_ the...wait - those are the fugitives!_ His thoughts heeled over like a galleon in a storm as he saw the next person to emerge.  _Guildmaster Roth? But why is he tied..._ "C-captain Roberts?" he ventured, taking a more secure hold on his halberd.

"At ease, guardsman," the Captain replied.

For some reason the sergeant was not reassured.

"These people are my guests, and I have invited them to speak at the Council meeting.  Now, if you do not mind, we are running a bit late..."

"O-of course, Captain."

Dru and Di'Fier followed the Captain, marching Roth into the Council chambers.  All the remaining councillors were there - with the notable exception of Arias Soderheim.  The hackles on Dru's neck rose.  _I don't know what he's planning,_ she thought.  _But I have the feeling I'm not going to like it one bit._

"Captain Roberts!" The objecting voice was from Dirwin Arnig, who was standing on his chair to be seen. "I hope there is an explanation for, for _this_."  His wave took in the fugitive Watchman, the bound Roth, the criminal elf.

"Of course, Dirwin," Roberts answered smoothly, taking his seat.  "I wouldn't have the Guildmaster of the Merchant's Guild tied up in the council chamber otherwise.  There may be _some_ members of the city government who enjoy such things, but neither I not the guildmaster are among them."  He gave Dru a knowing wink that made her wonder exactly how much he knew about her rescue of Judge Ubu.

Sister Gwendolyn rose, circling the Council table. "Whatever they have to say, they need to be healed." As she began murmuring the words of her spell over Di'Fier, Dru stepped forward.

"It was very convenient for Captain Soderheim to have his accusations about Di'Fier and I, when it was he all along that has been working for the Claw."

Buster Wallace exploded upward from his chair.  "You have no proof!" he snapped. "This is all some kind of conspiratorial trick to discredit Captain Soderheim - who isn't even present to acknowledge these accusations!"

Dru turned her gaze on Wallace - remembering that his support had shifted in the last Council vote.  "On the contrary," she said, as Sister Gwendolyn moved to tend to her.  "Guildmaster Roth?"

The man shuffled forward, his head bowed.  "I worked with the Dragon's Claw in their war against Tensin Naïlo," he began. "For a long time, I thought that was the extent of it - providing their leader with the information I had about Naïlo's interests.  I know he had several meetings with Soderheim, at the Guildhouse and at my home.  Then I was made to finance their operations - store things for them."

"What sort of things?" Di'Fier prompted.

"Weapons. Like the ones that killed Lady Elise."

Wallace remained standing.  "This is preposterous," he spat.  "Look at him - they've probably beaten and threatened him to get him to make this testimony."

A sudden anger shot through Roth's eyes as he looked up at Wallace. "You know it's not true, Buster," he snarled.  "Tell them about the trade agreements that changed your vote."

"My _legitimate_ business is no concern of the Council's!  This entire meeting is a farce, and I refuse to participate!" Wallace threw back his chair and marched to the door, the entire Council's eyes upon him.

Captain Roberts' voice was soft.  "My friends - there are eight of us.  We are a quorum, and if we all stand together, they cannot stop us.  While there is no Sea Lord, we are vulnerable.  I would like to open the floor for nominations."  There was a long moment of silence.  "Come, there must be someone besides Soderheim."

The sea-priestess resumed her seat, brushing her long green hair behind one ear.  "My duties to my god are sufficient that I would not find the position possible," she said. "We need a strong leader, who is able to take charge of the city."

Next to her, Captain Gordon nodded.  "My term is almost up, and I'm ready to get back to the sea.  But we need a sea-captain," he added. "Someone who understands the lifeblood of the city."

Arnig frowned at Gordon's words, then reluctantly nodded.  "And someone with experience on the council," he added, with a glance at Marilise Maeorgan and Wallace's empty seat.

Torian looked to his left.  With each person to speak, Varellion looked more and more smug, and he leaned forward - to nominate himself, Hector knew.  _And the last thing we need is that overstuffed popinjay in office.  Besides, he's Soderheim's man._ "I nominate Captain Roberts."  The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them - colliding with Roberts' own "Hector Torian."

Varellion sat back, too embarrassed now to nominate himself as the rest of the Council nodded their approval.

Sister Gwendolyn looked to the gnome. "Councilman Arnig, as the senior member of the Council, would you collect the ballots?"

The gnome nodded.

A moment later, the silence was broken.  "I hope you all wore your swords," said Dru.

All eyes turned to her as she touched her ear.  "Someone is coming.  A lot of someones."


----------



## ShawnLStroud

> Soderheim accepted the goblet, drank deeply. "That's an unusual vintage," he commented. "I'm not sure I recognize it."




Hmmm.  It looks like Mr. Soderheim is on his way out; at least as a long-term opponent.


----------



## drnuncheon

ShawnLStroud said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Hmmm.  It looks like Mr. Soderheim is on his way out; at least as a long-term opponent.  *




Soderheim was a patsy. Fans of Green Ronin's stuff know where the *real* long-term danger lies...(right Jon?)

J


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Soderheim was a patsy. Fans of Green Ronin's stuff know where the real long-term danger lies...(right Jon?)
> 
> J *





Indeed...

[Cue diabolical laughter.]


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twelve, Part Four: Conflict*

Di'Fier looked at his partner.  "Doors," they said in unison, each dashing to one side of the hall to lock the side entrances.  Dru growled at the lack of a proper bar as she twisted the lock into place, but the Sea Lord's palace had been built as a residence, not a defensive measure.

She had just turned to head to the front of the hall when the doors there burst open, men in the uniform of the Sea Lord's Guard charging into the hall.  Men carrying the long and deadly forms of the clockwork weapons they'd taken from the ship.  "Everyone down!" cried Di'Fier, but the Council remained in their seats, stunned.

Dru barely paused. One had reached up to pluck the last remaining golden sphere from the necklace she wore, hurling it sidearm across the hall to erupt in a ball of flame.  A secondary explosion signalled the demise of at least one of the troopers - and when the flames cleared, three men were scorched and smouldering on the ground.  Behind her, Di'Fier had cast some kind of spell, and was standing protectively in front of Roberts.

"You should not have done this!" Arias Soderheim, weapon in hand, entered the room.  His lips were flecked with spittle, his eyes wild, and all traces of his carefully cultured elven accent were gone.  He raised the pistol. "This city is now under martial law, and you will all be executed for treason. Treason!"  His voice cracked, and his eyes - and weapon - fixed on Roth. "Especially you."

His shot was the signal for the Guardsmen to open fire, and powder-smoke filled the air. Roth was knocked to the ground by Soderheim's shot, and Captain Torian looked dumbfounded at the sudden appearance of a small, neat hole in his chest, and the copious quantities of blood that came with it.  The firing finally shocked the members of the Council into action. "The table!" came Robert's cry, as he and Gordon turned the heavy mahogany onto its side into a makeshift barricade.

Dru dug in her pouch, pulling out a miniature skull that she'd taken from the ex-Sea Lord. _Hope there's no trick to these,_ she thought, lobbing it towards a group of Guardsmen who were already beginning to prepare their weapons for a second shot.

There wasn't.  As the skull hit the floor, it shattered violently, sending bone shrapnel scything through the ranks of the Guard, staining the white of their uniform shirts to match the crimson of their coats.

Di'Fier leapt from the council dais now that Roberts was under cover, calling on his magic to grant him supernatural speed.  He charged at Soderheim, blade blurring, but somehow the half-elf managed to avoid the blow - and strike one of his own.  The Watchman stumbled back as blood began to pour from the wound in his arm.  _Too much blood,_ he thought dazedly. _I shouldn't be bleeding this much..._

Dru dropped a Guard as she passed, twisting the blade before yanking it free, and snarling as she headed for Soderheim.  She could hear the side doors to the hall start to splinter - looks like the Guard wanted all the exits covered.

Di'Fier regripped his sword, the blood making the hilt slick under his palms. He moved forward, spinning it through the air, but somehow, impossibly, Soderheim managed to deflect both of the attacks and deliver a vicious slice across the chest as the Watchman leapt back out of the fray.

A shot buzzed by Dru's ear as one of the Guard finished reloding, but she had no time for him.  Her vision had narrowed to Soderheim alone, and she stepped forward to engage him in combat.  _The b-st-rd's good,_ she realized with a shock as their blades met. _Elven-trained...of course._ She struck, and again, but Soderheim's defense seemed impenetrable, and his own blade semed to float past her defenses as the half-elf cackled with insane glee.

A flash of pulsing light, and Soderheim stumbled from the force of the eldritch bolts that Di'Fier flung at him.  A moment later the young mage had returned to the battle, his blade flashing momentarily white with frost as the mad Councilor ducked out of its way.  Di'Fier's mystic shield deflected Soderheim's first blow, but Dru was not so protected, and his blade sank into her thigh.

Dru could feel her strength ebbing as life ran from the wounds in a never-ending stream.  _We've got to end this - now,_ she thought. _Or neither of us is going to be able to stop him._  Her foot skidded in the pool of blood beneath her, and dimly she wondered if all of that was hers.

Soderheim glanced at Di'Fier, and that was all the opportunity Dru needed. She lunged.  Dimly she was aware of the sharp _crack!_ of one of the weapons being fired, and on some level she was able to associate it with the pain that flooded through her shoulder, but she did not let it distract her.  She drove her blade through Soderheim's side, deep into his flesh, stumbled, and recovered, pulling it free.

The half-elf turned to her, his face a twisted mask of rage. _He's still alive? Die, damn you!  Die!_  Dru forced her blade back into a guard position as Soderheim approached.

Then the Councilor snapped suddenly sideways, as if hit with an invisible battering ram, the bones of his arms and legs shattering under the blow and catapulting his body into the wall. He slid down it, blood dribbling from his mouth, took one last labored breath, and expired.  Behind him, a bloodied Di'Fier regripped his sword and gave his partner a half-hearted smile.  Together, they turned to face the Guardsmen that had finally shattered the Council Chamber's other doors.


----------



## Maidenfine

Man, I feel like a fool. I've been on the GR boards for a long time and no matter how many times I saw the links to the story hour, somehow I was never curious. Until this past Sunday. Since then, in between writing research papers and reading books, I've managed to catch up. And all I have to say is, this rocks. I had a bit of burnout (not because of the game, but because of my classload this semester) but now I can't wait to get back in the DM's chair (it's green and comfy. ).  This is an example of what every DM should try for. And it's awesome.


----------



## drnuncheon

Maidenfine said:
			
		

> *Man, I feel like a fool. I've been on the GR boards for a long time and no matter how many times I saw the links to the story hour, somehow I was never curious. *




Wow, you registered here just to tell me that? I'm flattered!  Welcome to ENWorld, and to my Story Hour.  Watch out for the cliff, there, my readers keep hanging on it. 

One more update to go in the Mob War - well, two, because I'll need to write some epilogue to it, including a long-awaited cameo - and then it's good-bye Freeport! (but not good-bye Dru & Di'Fier!)

J
...everybody else is catching up, why can't I?  Four sessions already, and another session tomorrow...at least I'm not as far behind as Wulf.


----------



## Thorntangle

Cool climax so far Doc. The dynamic duo are in for a heck of a fight.

What did Soderheim drink?


----------



## drnuncheon

Thorntangle said:
			
		

> *Cool climax so far Doc. The dynamic duo are in for a heck of a fight.
> 
> What did Soderheim drink? *




Check back in Book One for some hints. 

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twelve, Part Five: Conclusion*

_*Special Friday Update!* I normally don't post on Fridays since I'm usually too busy planning for the game, but I'm actually ahead of myself for once, so I thought I would _not_ leave you hanging all weekend..._

As the Sea Lord's Guard raised their muskets, Di'Fier could hear shots being fired outside. _How long has that been going on?  And who could they be shooting at?_ he wondered, mentally swinging the disc of force to cover himself. The blood still ran from the wounds Soderheim had given him, pooling at his feet, and he felt dizzy - there was no way he could remain standing for long.

Dru bent, picking up Soderheim's blade.  On her, too, the blood coursed out of her wounds, staining her clothes a violent crimson. She took a step towards the guards, her eyes narrowing dangerously.  "Arias Soderheim is dead," she stated, her gaze flicking over each of the men.  "His attempted coup has failed."  The blade swept across the room to encompass all of the Guards in its arc, and Dru took another step forward. "Drop. Your. Weapons."

There was a clatter of metal and wood on the polished stone floor as the quailing Guard did as they were told.  Outside, the firing had ceased, and Di'Fier turned as he heard the front doors of the Palace being forced open. His face split into a grin as the first figure through was the familiar form of Quooral Stonecypher, Glunnyn strapped to his back, and much of the rest of the Watch in tow.  He could see that several of them were holding pistols and muskets, some still smoking from use.

The Watch moved to secure the prisoners as Captain Donnach approached.  "Good work, Watch-Lieutenants."  At Dru's look of confusion, he turned to her. "I brought your orders, just in case there was any problem."

Dru pulled Donnach to the side. "What are you doing, Captain?" She looked down at the orders, seeing the smudge his thumb had left when he opned them.  Orders for Watch-Lieutenants Dru and Di'Fier to conduct undercover operations posing as renegade Watchmen...

The Captain offered one of his rare smiles. "I didn't want you to think you had burned any bridges.  You're too good to be on the other side."

Di'Fier grinned at his teammates as Katya tended his wounds.  "Remember what I said at that exercise, when I said I wouldn't make a good criminal?  I was wrong.  I make a _great_ criminal." 







Dru walked through the halls of the Naïlo safehouse like a ghost.  She'd thought that the Captain's claim that she was working undercover would have caused trouble, but it was as if everyone else had something on their minds.  One of the elves sat, pale and stunned, holding something in his hand.  As Dru approached, he looked up and fear shot through his eyes.

"I swear, it was only talk!" he choked. "I never would have betrayed your father."

Dru looked down at the object he was clutching.

A single rose.

"Do not torment them, Drusilia," came a voice from behind her.

She whirled.  "_Papa?!_" Then she was across the room, colliding with him, wrapping her arms around him.  "I thought you were dead!"

Tensin merely nodded, drawing her into his office and closing the door.  "That was, after all, the intention.  Without the power vacuum caused by my sudden disappearance - a rumor which, despite Kennic's best efforts, still managed to get out - I could not be certain who exactly was planning to move against me."

"And so Galanodel left them all a warning..."

Tensin poured them each a cup of wine, handing one hammered gold goblet over to his daughter. "I trust that Emil has spoken to you already.  We had a fascinating conversation."

{i]Emil?[/i] It too her a moment to realize who he was talking about. _Since when is Papa on a first name basis with the Captain?_ "So you gave the weapons to the Watch..."

"I did. They are loud, unsubtle, and frequently explosive.  I reasoned that he was more used to dealing with such things than I was." For some reason, his eyes rested on his daughter when he made that remark. "There was a price for the aid, however."

"There always is, isn't there?"

"I asked him to reinstate you to the Watch."  At Dru's protest, he raised a hand.  "Daughter...we both know your heart is not in my profession.  If it had been, you would have been running this organization from the moment of my disappearance - and I may well have stayed gone." He hesitated for a moment, uncharacteristically. "I saw the trouble with the Dragon's Claw as an excuse to bring you back to the fold," he continued.  "But the Watch was the life you had made for yourself, and I was wrong to try to take it away from you."

"The Dragon's Claw isn't gone yet, Papa. Ulric got away."

"I have faith that given the newfound cooperation between myself, the other crime leaders," and here Tensin allowed himself a slight smile, "and Emil, we will be able to handle the Claw.  Their plan has been defeated - they will hide and lick their wounds for a while.






Di'Fier lifted the copy of the Shipping News with trepidation, remembering the _last_ time this many council members had died near him and Dru.

"*COUNCIL SLAUGHTER LEAVES ROBERTS SEA LORD*," read the headlines.  _So far, so good._ Underneath, in smaller type: *Criminal Coup Foiled by Undercover Guardsmen*.

"_Guardsmen?!_"

Moments later, the severed halves of the paper were in the fire, along with the splintered remnants of yet another table.






Ulric Dragosani gripped the edge of the desk, his claws digging furrows in the hard wood. _Soderheim dead, Roberts in power, Naïlo rallying the other crimelords against me...what _else_ could go wrong?_

The voice that spoke answered that question quite nicely.  "Ulric."

The half-dragon looked up, his eyes widening as he saw who it was.  "Father?"

"Don't be an idiot. He is far too busy to come oversee your pitiful attempts at revolution. However, those pitiful attempts are exactly why he decided he needed someone he could _trust_ in charge here.  Hence, me." 

"But I-"

"_You_ are going home.  Your father wishes to speak to you."

_- End of Session Twelve -_


----------



## ShawnLStroud

*Hey, the good guys won this time!*

Well; all's well that ends well.... Right?  

Um, Doc; it's ending *well*, isn't it?  Doc?  How come the lights are going out all over town?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Hey, the good guys won this time!*



			
				ShawnLStroud said:
			
		

> *Well; all's well that ends well.... Right?
> 
> Um, Doc; it's ending well, isn't it?  Doc?  How come the lights are going out all over town? *




Hey, I'll have you know that it's six _months_ of game time before the next major crisis!  The Claw has indeed settled down under its new management - no more _fireballs_ tossed around the city or brutal murders of old women (just the usual quota of bodies turning up in the harbor).

Dru will be posting a couple of things that happened during the downtime - I'll see if she'll put those up this weekend.  In the meantime, Di'Fier has also received a letter from a relative he didn't even know he had...*

J

* - well, actually, the relative was mentioned once, at the Guild dinner, but Yr. Humble Chronicler seems to have forgotten to include said event in his retelling of the occurrences there, for which all apologies.


----------



## ShawnLStroud

*On the Letter.*

Heh.  Looks like our duo will be heading for Highgate next.  

So, do ALL of your plot hooks have barbs?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: On the Letter.*



			
				ShawnLStroud said:
			
		

> *Heh.  Looks like our duo will be heading for Highgate next.
> 
> So, do ALL of your plot hooks have barbs? *




Shh! That's supposed to be hidden by the bait!

As to where they're headed next...heh heh heh.  Let's just say their trip took an unexpected detour.

J


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Twelve, Part Five: Conclusion*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> "_You_ are going home.  Your father wishes to speak to you."
> [/i] [/B]




Ooohh, that can't be good


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Okay, DrN asked for it, so here it is...

	Dru strode down one of the halls in the prestigious Gilt Club, following the doorman.  Behind her strolled her father, Tensin Naïlo, notorious crimelord, successful businessman, and recently, dutiful father.  The doorman opened a door and gestured for them to go in.

	The room was brightly lit, with sunlight streaming in through the southernmost windows.  It was filled with elaborate furnishings, and comfortable furniture.  Sitting in one of the more comfortable chairs was Torsten Roth, one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in Freeport, and the current head of the Merchant’s Guild.  His eyes skimmed over Dru, but moved on, locking on her father behind her.  He inclined his head stiffly.  "Tensin," he said.

	Papa nodded to him.  "Torsten."

	Dru cleared her throat.  "Roth, you’re here to business with  me, not my father."  She sat down in the chair directly in front of him, shifting her weight so that Soderheim’s rapier was in plain sight.

	Roth’s gaze was drawn downward to the elaborately decorated, and easily recognizable scabbard.  He looked back up to Dru, frowning.  The expression did nothing to hide the fact that he was aging at the rate typical of his race. 

	"It suits me, don’t you think?"

	Torsten glanced over her shoulder at Papa, who was seating himself quietly into a chair. When he saw that the crimelord was ignoring him, he sighed, and turned his attention back to Dru.  "What do you want?"

	Dru raised both of her brows.  "Roth,  be polite.  It never pays to be rude to be rude to one of the people who put the new Sea Lord in place."   She smiled at him ferally.

	He looked at her, not able to disguise the fear, and yes, the anger, in his eyes.  He forced his tone to be more polite, and placating.   "Miss Naïlo, if you find my manners to be lacking, I do sincerely apologize.  I have been under quite a bit of stress as of late, and I’m afraid that it is starting to wear."

	"Mmm," Dru nodded,  "I know the feeling."  Her tone became more harsh then, with the words,  "There for awhile, there were several people in the city that were plotting my father’s downfall.  It has left my nerves stretched nearly to the breaking point."

	Roth started to look more frightened, his eyes widening, and his skin paling.  "A lamentable situation to be in."

	Dru nodded.  "Sometimes,  I sit there at night, unable to settle myself, because I’m too busy thinking of ways to get revenge."

	Roth swallowed. "One almost pities those that you have these feelings about."

	"Almost," agreed Dru.  "Although considering everything, I’m sure that you can’t blame me for not being able to quite...reach that point."

	With a sigh, Roth leaned his head into his hands, massaging his temples.   "I’ve made what amends that I can to your father," he said wearily, "As he has probably told you.  I will most likely be making amends for the rest of my life.  Assuming that you are not here to kill me, what is it that you want?"

	Dru frowned.  "Roth, look at me."  When the man looked up at her, she leaned forward, staring him down with her ice colored eyes, so disturbingly like her father’s.  "I didn’t kill you, but I probably should have."

	Roth stared at her, and then tore his gaze away, looking back at Tensin, who was peacefully studying the folds of the velvet drapes.  He asked heavily, "What do you want from me?"  His voice raised an octave at the end of the sentence, a sure sign that he was near panic.

	"I want for you to undo your treachery.  Destroy the Dragon’s Claw, utterly, while you’re at it."

	Roth frowned.  "I think," he said stiffly, "That you know that’s impossible."

	"Yes.  I suppose it is, isn’t it?  Well, Papa has taught me that asking the impossible is bad business, and I wouldn’t want to do that.  I’m sure that you, of all people, can understand that, Roth."

	"What do you want?"  

	"Verlaine’s house."

	Roth turned red.  "What?!?  Why?"

	Dru narrowed her eyes at him.  "Because you plotted the death of my father.  Isn’t that enough?"  She continued,  "Since no heirs were located, the city is going to put the house on the market in two days.  You are going to buy it, and then transfer the title to me."

	"You want a loan, then?"

	With lightning speed, Dru reached across the foot of space between them, and grabbed the merchant’s jacket collar, pulling him forward so that his face was directly in front of hers.  "You are going to buy the house, and then you are going to give the title to me.  A gift.  My one hundred and eleventh birthday is coming up soon, so it can be an early birthday present."   She let go of his jacket then, letting him fall back into his chair.

	He stared at her, lips thinning into white lines.  "If that is what you wish," he said, forcing the words out, "Then how can I refuse?  I will buy the house in two days, and will have the title ready for you to pick up at the guild by that afternoon."

	Dru nodded at him.    "Good, I’m glad that you see things my way," she said pleasantly.  "I’ll see you in two days."  She stood to her feet.  "Oh, and just so that we are perfectly understood...this purchase does  nothing to put you out of my debt.  I’ll be seeing a lot of you over the next few years, Roth." 

	Papa cleared his throat.  "And Roth...I do trust that the interior of the house will be very nicely redecorated before my daughter takes possession.  As I recall, she left it a little bloodstained last time she was there."

	Roth nodded stiffly.  "It will be done."

	"I like neutral colors," she informed him.  "None of the gaudy crap that is in your house."

	She rose, turning to look at her father.  "Papa, I am ready to go when you are."

	He stood, saying, "Of course," and gallantly offered her his arm.

	She smiled at him then, much more warmly than she had Roth.  "Come, then."  She took his arm, and father and daughter strolled from the room.  Before the door shut behind them, Dru turned to look into the room.  Roth continued to stare after them, the hatred and fear still evident in his eyes.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Interlude*

"Strange name for a painter."

The painter in question dragged himself out of his reverie to look at the elf.  Leather-clad, sour disposition, well-worn blades on either hip, and an attitude that said "Don't even try."  Hardly the sort of person you'd expect to see in a house newly bought by the head of the Merchant's Guild.

"It's a family name," he explained.  "My ancestor built the first kiln on the island."

"Mmm." The elf, aparently satisfied, turned his attention elsewhere, but showed no signs of leaving.  

The painter turned one eye back to his perusal of the room.  Behind him, he could hear the workmen tromping upstairs and down, hauling out rugs and furniture bearing suspicious stains.  "I guess Mr. Roth didn't like the Councillor's taste," he ventured.

"Guess not."  The elf turned one eye to him for a moment.  "Aren't you supposed to be painting a mural?"

The painter licked his lips, nodded. "But...I usually talk to the owner, to find out what sort of thing they want.  I mean, if they're going to have this on their wall for years, decades even...you don't want it to be something they hate."

"The owner's busy, she doesn't have time to talk to you."

_She?_ the painter thought.  _Is Roth buying this house for a woman?  She must be some woman..._ Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the elf straighten, and turned to see a figure walking past.

"Was that...Tensin Naïlo?"

The elf held one long finger across his lips in a sign for silence.


----------



## Jon Potter

*Re: Interlude*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *"Strange name for a painter."*





I think it's a perfectly *fine*  name.


----------



## drnuncheon

Is everybody on vacation this week?

More from Dru to come, as I busily 'write ahead'...

J


----------



## Vargo

This is getting pretty scary...  I read several story hours:

Piratecat's
Sagiro's
Wulf's
ForceUser's Vietnamese
Sepulchrave II's
(and, of course, this one)

Lately, Sepulchrave has updated his story hour more often than the rest of them combined, and that worries me.  I mean, when a guy who takes six month absences to follow up on a story posts more....  

Juuuust kidding.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

*A Night at the Opera*

Dru allowed the coachman to help her up into the carriage, even though she was perfectly capable of getting in on her own.  She smoothed down her black evening gown, flashing a quick, nervous smile at Papa, who was already sitting in the carriage.  "I'm not used to wearing things like this," she told him, secretly hoping that members of the Watch wouldn't be near the opera house tonight.

	He smiled slightly, patting her silken-sleeved arm in a gesture that was more paternal than most would think he was capable of. "You look wonderful tonight," he assured her."Once again, Nilia has worked her magic."

	Just then, the carriage began to move forward, and the sound of the clippety clopping of their horses' hooves was the only sound on the streets of the _kesir_.  Dru leaned back in the seat, ill at ease without her sword.  She did have a couple of daggers strapped to her legs, just in case, but she still felt rather vulnerable.  

	She noticed Papa watching her, a look of amusement on his face.  "Just for tonight, daughter, forget about your rapier. This was your idea, after all."
	Dru laughed.  "I know," she said, glancing at him sidelong.  "I remember the times that we'd go to the opera together, when I was still barely more than a child."  Her expression was somewhat wistful, but she shook off the mood before it was able to take hold.  "We had fun."

	Papa nodded.  "Yes," he said. 

	The two were silent then, neither of them wanting to talk about Dru leaving him five years ago, or the reasons for her leaving.   The subject was too painful, and her relationship with Papa was fragile enough without bringing up the past.

	"Give Enialis a chance," he said, breaking the silence so suddenly that Dru startled, despite the softness of his speech.

	She turned to look at him, her  gaze locking with his own.   "A chance?"

	Papa arched a brow.  "You suspected him of foul play not too long ago...do you mean to say that you consider that to be a fair chance?"

	Dru grimaced, and shrugged.  "Actually, even my suspicions were a mark of my respect, in a way," she said.  "He was the only one that I could think of that could possibly pose a threat for you."  She eyed him, then.  "I knew that you trusted him, and wouldn't be expecting him to move against you."

	He made a noncommital sound, and then said,  "He is someone who has earned my respect.  I would not have given permission for him to court you had he not."

	"I know," she said, with a sigh.

	Papa frowned.  "I do not want for you to dismiss him because you were hoping for something like _true love_ to come along."

	With a snort, Dru showed exactly what she thought of that.  "Don't be silly.  I do not believe in true love."

	"Good," he said approvingly.  "You'll be better for it."

	The carriage stopped.   They climbed out, and then Papa took her arm, linking it with his.  The two approached the opera house as the coach pulled away.  They stepped into the foyer of the building, to see the well-heeled of Freeport mingling, talking in small clusters.  One of them was Judge Ubu, dressed to kill in a gentleman's suit. He met Dru's gaze before looking away, eyes widening.  He suddenly had things to do on the other side of the room, hurrying away from her. 

	"I see that you've been making friends," Papa said dryly.  "Shall we go to our box now?"

	She grinned at him, nodding.

	As they approached one of the sets of double doors that would lead to the box seats up above, Dru saw a very familiar face.  It was Jaffar.  Except, he was dressed in the uniform of an opera house guard.  She raised her eyebrows without surprise.  It was no secret that with a wife, an ex-wife, a mistress, and six children, Jaffar was always short on cash.  For a moment, he seemed to look through her, not recognizing her in her evening finery.  And then his eyes widened in astonishment.  "Dru," he rasped.  "I almost didn't recognize you without the sword."   He looked her over, starting to snicker.  "Did you run out of uniforms to wear?  Or is this gonna be standard issue for the SCU from now on? Di'Fier will look real cute in it."  He grinned, and then faltered when he glanced at Papa.

	Dru smiled faintly, aware of the fact that Papa was staring at Jaffar with a very unfriendly look in his eye.  "I don't think that Di'Fier would like the change very much," she whispered to him.  "I'll see you tomorrow, Jaffar," she said. 

	Papa led her up the stairs, and to the second floor.  Another guard opened a door leading to one of the boxes.  "Here are your seats, sir, madam," he said respectfully.  

	They sat down, quite alone in the box, though there were two other seats.  Dru looked over the rail at the crowd below, and spotted Kennic immediately.  She smiled, satisfied.

	Papa leaned over, murmuring to her, "Now see if you can spot the _other_ guard," he said.

	"Papa," said Dru tentatively, not rising to the bait.

	"Yes?" 

	"Why did you send those people to kill me, all of those times?"  She turned to him, frowning in a troubled manner.  "I mean...I don't think that you were _really_ trying to kill me, because they were so incompetent, but..."

	There was a moment of silence, and though his facial expression didn't change, she could tell that she had shocked him.  Finally, he said, "I do not understand what you mean, daughter."

	"The mercenaries?  There for awhile, Di'Fier and I thought that it was your way of delivering potions to me without looking like you were giving me gifts."  She grinned a little bit,  but stopped when she saw that he wasn't amused.  "What?  Didn't you send them?"

	"Daughter," Papa said heavily,  "I never sent anyone to try to kill you."

	There was yet another moment of stunned silence, this time on Dru's part.  "You-you didn't?"  Her eyes narrowed.  "Then who did?" 

	Papa frowned.  "Who indeed," he mused, looking down over the crowd.

	Dru's thoughts raced.  _Who would have the most to gain from Papa and I being estranged?  Or rather, who would think that they had the most to gain from it?  Was it Amalyth?  The little half-human has gone too far this time, if so..._  Dru spent the remainder of the opera listening to the elven lyrics with only half of her attention, focussing instead on thinking of ways to kill her sister without incurring her father's wrath.


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: A Night at the Opera*



			
				Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *Papa frowned.  "Who indeed," he mused, looking down over the crowd. *




Oh what a tangled web you weave.

I love it


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Thirteen, Part One: A Turn for the Worse...*

*Sensations*
_
Darkness.

A low creaking sound, the complaints of wood.  

A dull, throbbing ache, and motion twisting the stomach.

The scent of unwashed bodies, of feces and urine.

Bile._



*Items of Unusual Note* (Glunnyn Mernig)
 _ Parchment note, charred, unreadable.  Found under table. _
 _ Tankards, pewter, fourteen.  Found scattered around the room.  Two containing ale remnants, found near parchment note above. _
 _ Dagger, steel, one.  Finely made and balanced for throwing. Found in Body #7, probable cause of death. _
 _ Belt remnant, leather, one, badly charred. Found next to Body #8 (probable cause of death: severe burns to head, shoulders, and arm). _

"Lords of Justice," Katya breathed as she looked over the scorched room.  The stench of charred flesh and stale blood swept over her as the air stirred, and she fought back an impulse to gag. "What _happened_ here?"

Beside her, and somewhat below, Glunnyn Mernig held a piece of cloth over his sensitive nose.  A pair of goggles were in place over his eyes, making them seem owl-wide and distorted as he looked up at her.  "That," he replied, "is what we are here to find out."

"Glunnyn." It was Jemis.  "I think I found something, but it's pretty fragile.  Looks like a letter or something, but it's mostly burned.  I thought maybe, you know, you could fix it with your magic."

Mernig nodded, and let himself be led over to the scraps - lying beside an overturned table, it looked as if a stray ember had set it smouldering.  Now only the edges were left - the rest a blackened mess.

Sliding another piece of parchment under it, to catch the pieces, Glunnyn gingerly opened it.  Only the salutation was visible: Watch-Lieutenants Dru and Di'Fier.


*1. Parchment note, charred, unreadable.  Found under table.*

There had been a message...

That was why they had gone, and without backup besides.  The Docks had been their beat for years, and they knew they could handle the worst the district could throw at them.

Besides, if the author of the note was telling the truth, they didn't have backup they could trust.

The place was a cellar alehouse called Piggott's - an unpleasant name for an unpleasant establishment.  There was no sign, just a set of stairs leading down, the acrid stench of urine emanating from the bottom.

"Smells worse than Krom's Throat," said Di'Fier, staring down into the dimly lit dark.

Dru's face wrinkled in a distaste that was the mirror of her partner's. "I don't like it either, but if we've really got a mole on the team..."

Di'Fier nodded, and headed down.






Ashrem flipped one of the tankards up into the air, catching it easily.  "There's more than a dozen of these around," he said, performing a quick mental count.  "And...six bodies.  Either all of this lot were two-fisted drinkers, or half the people that were here have vanished. Not that that's a surprise, in Freeport."

"What were they drinking?" asked Glunnyn, from under the table.

"What?"

"In the tankards.  What was in them? Can you tell?  The type of drink chosen might help identify witnesses. Or suspects."

Ashrem looked dubiously into the tankard, twisting it this way and that, turning it upside down.  "I can't tell, it's empty."

"Nonsense," the gnome scoffed. "There should be remnants, like in this one."  He picked up an overturned mug that lay under the table, and trotted over to Ashrem to display the contents.  "You see?" 

Ashrem rotated the tankard so that Glunnyn could see into it, and the gnome frowned.  "Are you sure you didn't find that in the wash? It looks about as clean as you'd get in a place like this."

The elf shook his head, and looked behind the bar. "The clean ones are all back here.  Oh, and two more bodies."

Glunnyn frowned at the tankard he held - it had clearly been filled, drained, and not yet cleaned.  Raising the cloth that covered his nose, he took a deep whiff.  "Ale," he reported.  "Although...there's something else..."


*2. Tankards, pewter, fourteen.  Found scattered around the room.  Two contain ale remnants, found near parchment note above.*

"I hate Freeport taverns," Dru complained. "Especially when you're late getting there.  All the good seats are taken."

Indeed, the shadowy fringes of the small room seemed to be taken up by what were no doubt the "regulars" - nameless dockside ne'er-do-wells of a sort familiar to the pair through long experience.  Di'Fier scanned the faces, wondering if they'd put any of them away, perhaps only for an hour or two, but after a while they all started to blend together.  He raised a hand and waved the bartender over, signalling for a pair of drinks.

"_And_ I dont trust that note," his partner added. "You don't really think anybody on our team is working for the Claw, do you?  Who would it be? Glunnyn?  He wouldn't recognize a bribe if it bit him.  Katya, Miss Law and Order?"

Di'Fier shook his head as the ale was set before him, fingering the message that had brought him.  "I don't believe it either, but we've got to check it out, just in case." He raised the mug and took a deep swig - it was awful, of course, but he managed a sickly smile at the bartender, who was watching him intently for his reaction.  _Probably brews his own beer,_ Di'Fier thought, _and I don't want to get thrown out for offending him, not before we meet this informant._

"Quooral wouldn't take a bribe, he's almost as dense as Glunnyn.  Jemis?  Jemis is a _reformed criminal_, he's probably straighter than Katya now.  And Ashrem..." she hesitated. "Di'Fier, you don't suppose it's Ashrem, do you?  Di'Fier?  Di'Fier?"

Dimly, Di'Fier knew he was expected to respond, but he just couldn't seem to collect his thoughts enough to do it.  There was something else he had to tell her, he knew.  Something important.  Something about the ale, or was it about the way everybody was watching them?  Or maybe it was how the scars on her wrists had opened up again...maybe she'd be able to figure it out.  "Ale," he croaked.






Katya turned over one of the bodies behind the bar.  "This one's the barkeep, if I'm not mistaken.  There's a lot of blood."  The fat man's head lolled back as she pulled on his shoulder, revealing a deadly length of steel buried to the hilt in his throat. "Knife to the throat," she reported, glancing over to where Glunnyn squatted, inspecting the other body.

Turning back to the corpse, she bent to study the dagger more closely, and bit her lower lip.  "It's Dru's," she said. "I remember her picking it up.  She kept complaining about losing daggers, or giving them away, or something like that."


*3. Dagger, steel, one.  Finely made and balanced for throwing. Found in Body #7, probable cause of death. *

Dru was on her feet in an instant, as Di'Fier slumped to the table.  Almost unconsciously, her arm spun a dagger through the air to bury itself in the barkeep's throat, sending him stumbling back into the shelves of liquor, clutching weakly at the blade.  She offered a silent thanks to the Jade Serpent for its protection, and then the rest of them were upon her.

Clubs, coshes, blackjacks - they were armed for capture, not killing...and fortunately for her, she didn't have the same restrictions.  Her blade whispered into her hand, and she began to show them just why the criminals of the city were so scared of her.  Behind her, Di'Fier lurched to his feet, his arm swinging outward, blade appearing from nowhere just in time to gut one of the thugs. He staggered back to back with Dru, fighting a losing battle with the drug.

By the time three were down and bleeding, the rest had backed away to a safer distance, out of blade's reach.  They shifted like a circle of wild creatures kept at bay by fire, knowing it would die down eventually.  One of them, blood running down his arm, reached behind and took up one of the bar stools.

The rest of them took that as some sort of signal, and they came at the duo, howling.






The last corpse - behind the bar as well - was by far the worst.  Its head was a misshapen, charred mass of cinders, pieces of ash peeling away to reveal the bone beneath.  Much of the rest of the body was burned as well, burned and studded with shards of broken glass - probably from the shattered bottles it had been thrown against.  _Yes,_ Glunnyn thought, _the bottles had broken, spilling hard liquor on the man...but what set him on fire in the first place?_

Next to the man, on the stone floor of the bar, there lay a piece of leather belt - the buckle end.  _Now that's a strange thing to find,_ he thought, lifting it up.  Most of the belt was gone, burned away in whatever conflagration had consumed the man's head.  A quick glance at the corpse revealed that its own belt was still present. _A very strange thing indeed..._

With a grimace, he lifted the nose-cover again, placing his face close to the body, and sniffed.  Fighting back the waves of nausea, he stepped back.  There was a scent he knew very well, underlying the burned flesh...alchemist's fire.


*4. Belt remnant, leather, one, badly charred. Found next to Body #8 (probable cause of death: severe burns to head, shoulders, and arm).*

Di'Fier's vision blurred, and the attackers doubled and redoubled and then undoubled, moving all in perfect unison.  He took a step forward and the room tilted like a ship in a sudden gale, sending him to one knee, then the other.  He couldn't see anything to his side - he could barely see in front of him.  His sword was heavy, too heavy to lift.  

With a mumbled command, he made it vanish again, started to push himself up - they were coming at him again. Holding his hands out, he called the it forth from the glove once more, letting the thug's momentum drive the sword deep into his own belly. The falling corpse wrenched the blade from his hand, as everything went black.

Dru spitted one, slashed another across the face, twisting and rolling to keep out of their way.  Somewhere behind her, she could hear Di'Fier hit the floor, and she knew it was just her now.  Blows rained down on her, too many to parry, battering away at her as she moved, thrust, cut.  The b-st-rd with the chair came in - no way she could ignore that. She ducked, but it wasn't her the thug was aiming at - it was her blade.

Hand numb, she watched the rapier skid across the floor.  _Rapier gone, threw the dagger...not much left..._ She dodged another blow of the stool as she yanked her buckle open.  The belt slithered into her hands, the heavy pouch at the end turning it into a makeshift flail.  It would have to do. 

She swung at stool boy, who threw up an arm to reflexively block.  The long belt wrapped around his head, bringing the pouch around into his face with a satisfying crunch - and the sound of breaking glass.  An instant later, the pouch was enveloped in flames.

The thug dropped the stool and fell back, clawing at the burning leather with muffled shrieks of pain. Dru shoved him, hard, sending him catapulting over the bar and smashing into the bottles of liquor, their blue flame joining the unnatural red of the alchemist's fire she'd had in her pouch.

He was still screaming when the remaining thugs closed on Dru for the last time.






There was a scraping sound of stone on stone, and everybody looked toward the source.  Quooral stood by a section of wall, swung aside to reveal a low doorway.  "Smuggler's passage," he rumbled. "You can smell the harbor."


*Sensations II*
_
Shapes moving in place, but huddled each to itself like a scared, lonely child.

The sound of metal moving on metal.

Heavy weight, cold around the wrists.

Salt sea air.

Blood.
_


----------



## ShawnLStroud

*Re: Session Thirteen, Part One: A Turn for the Worse...*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> [*Sensations II*
> _
> The sound of metal moving on metal.
> 
> Heavy weight, cold around the wrists.
> 
> Salt sea air.
> 
> Blood.
> _ [/B]




Heh.  So what you're saying is they've taken a Disney cruise .   Hmmmm.  You have to wonder who their new "hosts" might be...

I can't wait to read more!


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Thirteen, Part One: A Turn for the Worse...*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Sensations
> 
> Darkness.
> 
> A low creaking sound, the complaints of wood.
> 
> A dull, throbbing ache, and motion twisting the stomach.
> 
> The scent of unwashed bodies, of feces and urine.
> 
> Bile.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Sensations II
> 
> Shapes moving in place, but huddled each to itself like a scared, lonely child.
> 
> The sound of metal moving on metal.
> 
> Heavy weight, cold around the wrists.
> 
> Salt sea air.
> 
> Blood.
> *




Great update as usual 

I really like this format, it sets the scene really well.

Have Dru and Di'Fier's stats been updated on the boards, if they have please post a link to them.

Thanks


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Thirteen, Part One: A Turn for the Worse...*



			
				Zarthon said:
			
		

> *
> Have Dru and Di'Fier's stats been updated on the boards, if they have please post a link to them.
> 
> *




Not yet! I should, since they _did_ level after the mess with Soderheim, but with changing versions of PCGan and the like, I haven't been updating my /own/ records often enough, let alone the Rogue's Gallery thread...

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Thirteen, Part Two: Chains*

"Those _b-st-ards_.  Di'Fier? Are you still breathing?"

A weak groan. "I must be. I can smell it in here."

Slowly, their eyes adjusted to the near-total darkness, picking out the others in a similar predicament.  Gnomes, humans, a half-elf...a young halfling...a dozen other people all told.

Di'Fier shifted, tugged on the manacles, inspecting them with his fingers - they had been hammered into place around his wrists, not locked, and that suggested that they would not be released anytime soon.  "At least they're not making us row."  His attempt at humor sounded small indeed in the darkness of the hold.

The sturdy man next to Di'Fier leaned closer.  He stank of horses, even over the smell in the hold.  "Did she say you were Di'Fier?  The watchman?"  At the mage's nod, he asked hopefully, "Were you trying to find us?  I'm Volodya," he added. "The horse trainer."

"I'm afraid not.  If the Watch had known about a slaving ring operating in Freeport they'd have shut us down before we left harbor.  They are slavers, aren't they?"

Volodya snorted, nodding towards another of the prisoners. "Ask him.  He works for them."

"Used to," came the growled response.  "Don't forget, it was me complaining about the ill treatment you lot got that got me thrown down here with you."

A third man spoke up: slender, fair, and with the accent of the mainland.  "They are not only slavers, they are worshipers of Vepar."  When that brought no response, he added, "The 'Master of Angry Waters'.  A demon prince."

Meanwhile, Dru studied the blonde form beside the sailor.  Curled into a fetal ball, the elven woman had not acknowledged their presence in the slightest.  Leaning towards the old woman chained next to her, she asked, "Is she all right?"

The woman nodded.  "She tried to escape.  Slipped the manacles when we were sailing into the harbor and made a run for it.  They caught her, beat her."

Wood slammed on wood as the hatchway was thrown open, and a pair of well-shined, gold-buckled boots began to descend the steep stairs.  The boots gave way to black velvet breeches and a sheathed rapier - one that had belonged to Dru only a day ago.  Above the breeches, a doublet of vivid scarlet, a weathered face with goatee and sweeping mustachio, and a black hat bearing a plume to match the doublet.

Behind him strode a tall woman in black leather, a pair of golden dice hanging about her neck and a coiled whip at her side. Her sneer matched her companion's as she looked over the chained prisoners.

"Well, well," began the man.  "This one sees that the new arrivals have awakened.  At least, one of them has."  His eyes alighted on Di'Fier, who had taken the man's entrance as a signal to play unconscious.  "Aslia...bestir him."

The crack of the whip echoed from the wooden hull of the ship, and a line of red appeared on the mage's cheek.  Di'Fier pushed himself into a sitting position with a glare of anger.

"Ah, so much better.  Welcome to your new home - for the next few weeks, that is.  We're bound for the Caliphates, where you will no doubt spend the rest of your lives wishing you had nothing better to do than enjoy a restful sea journey." He gave the Watchmen a bright smile. "And if you're thinking about escaping...this one's brother has a patron who is always in need of a fresh sacrifice."

The captain - or so they assumed - and the whip-wielding woman departed up the stairs, and the hold was plunged into darkness again by the closing of the hatch.

"Right," said Dru. "We're getting out of here.  I can't stay here with that pompous windbag carrying _my_ rapier and having my partner whipped.  When I found out who put him up to this, I'm going to go back to Freeport and strew their limbs across the city.  Hey, sailor."

"Jethis."

"Jethis, then.  Wake up the elf."

The chain creaked as he reached for her, thought better of it, and leaned in close to speak.  Dru watched as the elf slowly uncurled, painfully, revealing a face that was a mass of cuts and bruises.

Switching to her native tongue, she asked, "_Do you want to get revenge?_"

The other elf's eyes glittered.  "_If I died finding vengeance, I would die happy._"

Dru smiled.






They were fourteen, all told, from Freeport and the mainland:  Volodya, a trainer of horses.  Unn, the ancient herbalist.  Jethis, the only sailor of the lot.  Jim, a young halfling lad from Freeport who had chosen the wrong ship to run away to sea on.  Illugi, Fatima, and Geirstein, mercenaries.  Namfoodle and Fonkin, gnomish herders.  Kolya, a leatherworker.  Then the elf, Shesara Nareshnae, a bard, and Benares, the fair man who seemed to know so much about their captor's patron.  A scholar, he called himself.

_Not the crew I would have chosen to break out of a slave ship,_ Dru thought. _Still, you make do with what you have.  It's strange, though - if they were sent by the Dragon's Claw, why didn't they know Di'Fier was a wizard?_

The wizard in question had used his magic to narrow his hands, slipping free of the manacles, and was just moving towards Dru when the hatchway flew open once again, and three men came thundering down: two sailors with drawn cutlasses, and, against all logic, a figure clad in blackened plate, spikes jutting from its surface.

_Where did they get these guys?_ Di'Fier thought.

The armored man's voice echoed hollowly in the helm.  "Who was casting spells?"

Di'Fier looked at where he'd been chained, then shrugged.  "That would be...me."


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Thirteen, Part Three: Di'Fier's Revolt*

At the armored figure's nod, the two thugs started forward.  Di'Fier clasped his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels as he waited for them.  As he expected, they traveled down the center of the hold, out of reach of the chained prisoners...which put them in a nice, straight line.

"_Kaegunsvent!_"  The keyword of the spell ripped through the hold, carrying in its wake a tremendous rush of force that sent the sailors crashing backwards, impaling themselves on the black spikes of the armor, and knocking the figure to the deck.  As one, the other prisoners tore and twisted at their bindings, heedless of the damage done to their hands.  Blood ran down the arms of the mercenaries as they twisted against the metal.

Di'Fier stretched his arm out towards the chains that held his partner.  Another word in the ancient tongue of magic, and orbs of green vitriol sizzled on the chains, eating away at them.

There was a sound of steel moving, and he turned to see the armored figure cast aside the bloodied corpses of the sailors and draw its sword.

"Hey..." he objected.  "That's _my_ sword!"






"What the hells is going on down there?"

"Patience, brother.  Apparently one of our new acquisitions is some kind of a spellcaster - Demos warned me of his casting."  At the mention of its name, the waterlogged head on the table opened its eyes and moaned softly.  A thin hand stroked its salt-rimed hair, as if to soothe it back to sleep.  "I sent Avoyas down to teach him the error of his ways..."  Another clatter of steel arose from belowdecks.  "...although perhaps I should have sent more help."

The captain spun, half-running from the cabin.  "Blast it! Lock down that hatch!  We can't have them getting out!  They'll stay below until we dock in the Caliphates, we'll deal with them then!"






Di'Fier backed away, blood streaming down his chest.  One hand gripped a discarded cutlass from one of the dead sailors, but gaining it had cost him a grievous wound.  From behind him, the pure liquid notes of elvensong buoyed him up, but even the inspiration of the music was not able to equalize the fight - not when the other man had armor and a longer blade.  And none of the other prisoners had been able to free themselves yet, although one chain dangled from Dru's wrist as she heaved on the other, trying to separate it from the iron bar bolted to the wall.

Something arced through the air to land with a soft smack on the side of the armored head.  "Yaa! Take that!" said Jim, dancing to the side and scooping up another handful of filth.

Di'Fier took advantage of the distraction, falling back and raising his hand, the final word of the spell falling from his tongue, darts of golden light spiralling from his fingers to seek out their target, battering him down.

The hatch slammed shut above them.


----------



## Jon Potter

I bet that right about now Di'Fier is wishing that his magic were "in the blood" as Vagn put it so long ago.

Without his spellbooks, when Di'Fier's magic's gone, it's gone. And I think that he'll be needing all the mojo he can muster if they hope to overpower an entire crew of slavers!


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Thirteen, Part Three: Di'Fier's Revolt*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *The hatch slammed shut above them. *




And I thought that our hero's were going to be leaving Freeport of their own free will...duh!


----------



## drnuncheon

Glad to see it was just the boards being down that was keeping peopel from posting.  Dru was afraid she had scared everybody away with her strongarm tactics on Roth.

Actually, there's a _lot_ of backstory about Dru that's been written.  Want to know what growing up with the city's biggest crimelord as a father was like?  Where Dru got some of her fascinating collection of scars?  The first time she killed a man?  I bet if people encouraged her, Mel would post some stuff from 'Dru: the Early Years'...

J


----------



## Zarthon

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Glad to see it was just the boards being down that was keeping peopel from posting.  Dru was afraid she had scared everybody away with her strongarm tactics on Roth.
> 
> Actually, there's a lot of backstory about Dru that's been written.  Want to know what growing up with the city's biggest crimelord as a father was like?  Where Dru got some of her fascinating collection of scars?  The first time she killed a man?  I bet if people encouraged her, Mel would post some stuff from 'Dru: the Early Years'...
> 
> J *




I think that would be a great idea!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Thirteen, Part Four: The Voice of a God*

"What is going _on_ here?"  The crew scattered from the path of their captain - the taste of his lover for the lash was well known, and he did not hesitate to give them to her for punishment - but it was not them his anger was directed at.

The slender form of his brother appeared at the door to the cabin. "Our erstwhile prisoners appear to be engaged in some sort of activity in the bilges...or so Demos tells me."

"They're moving the ballast...putting us off balance, slowing us down!"  The captain spat a curse that would have him hung had he uttered it at their destination rather than on the open sea.  "We're going to have to deal with them sooner than we expected, brother.  Ready your spells."

"I will speak with my patron."







Di'Fier passed the iron bar down the edge of his blade, shaving curled bits of metal from it, turning it into a crude machete.  He inspected the iron, then checked his own sword for damage.  "I guess Garto did a good job on this - not even a nick from cutting through the chains."

Dru scowled at the mention of the treacherous dwarf.  She had been storming around the hold, cutlass in her hand, like a restless tiger - ready to burst free at any moment.  The fact that the bursting free did not look like it would happen anytime soon only further fueled her anger.

In one corner, the rotund Fonkin huddled, his brother crouched beside him.  Where Dru unconsciously rode the swaying deck of the ship, the gnome had staggered about, turning an altogether unpleasant shade of green.  The elf looked him over critically.  "Why's he seasick _now_?  You've been on this boat for weeks."

Di'Fier set the last of the makeshift blades aside and climbed to his feet, staggering a bit himself.  "The ship's moving more."

Dru nodded. "Most be a storm blowing up.  We'd better get through that trapdoor, then - it'll be a good distraction."  She held out her hand for the bastard sword - the only weapon they had that would not be dulled to uselessness hacking through the thick wood.  Di'Fier passed it over.






Wind howled through the rigging, as sailors fought to furl the sails.  Below them, the mast creaked ominously as it fought to drive the ship faster than the seas would allow.

"Captain! They're cutting through the trapdoor!"

"Not _now_!"  The captain drew the blade from his belt - the very one he'd taken from the elf.  _This one knew this was a bad idea..._  "Naneyd!  Aslia!"

In moments, every sailor that could be spared was clustered in ambush,  ringing the trapdoor: bristling with cutlasses and daggers.  Some few had strung bows, near-useless though they would be through the winds and rain.  The shining blade finally hacked through the wood, knocking aside the bar that held it shut, and then withdrew.

For a moment, the only sound was the wind in the rigging and the protests of the ship.

Then a crack of thunder rolled, and before it had died away the door had flown open, a shape flying forth only to be punctured by arrows and fall to the deck.

A flash of light from the sky let the crewmen recognize the corpse of one of their own, crushed and battered by some unearthly force.  And in the thunder that followed, there were words.

"*I AM DISPLEASED...LET MY CHILDREN GO.*"

"Vepar's _B-lls!_" cried the captain.  "We've angered the Storm god!"


----------



## Victim

Yeah, right.  It's some cheap illusion magic I'm sure.


----------



## Maidenfine

Oh, come on. Don't be so skeptical. It's not _cheap_ magic. Maybe magic, but not cheap. Plus, wouldn't it be pretty awesome if it really was the Storm God. Not that it is but it'd be pretty awesome.


----------



## drnuncheon

Maidenfine said:
			
		

> *Oh, come on. Don't be so skeptical. It's not cheap magic. Maybe magic, but not cheap.*




Well, it's all relative.  Cheap for magic, expensive enough to feed a family of four for days by the NPC spellcasting rates.

J


----------



## DiFier

are we offering a prize for anyone recognising the captain, his whip weilding lover and his brother?    perhaps another horibble death or slightly something better?


----------



## Harvester

DiFier said:
			
		

> *are we offering a prize for anyone recognising the captain, his whip weilding lover and his brother?    perhaps another horibble death or slightly something better? *




oo!! I know! I know!!  

Harv.


----------



## Zarthon

Victim said:
			
		

> *Yeah, right.  It's some cheap illusion magic I'm sure. *




Hey! Maybe it really is the *Storm god*


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *are we offering a prize for anyone recognising the captain, his whip weilding lover and his brother?    perhaps another horibble death or slightly something better? *




If anyone does recognize them, they get a special no-prize, and my deepest sympathies for what's going on at that place now.  

J


----------



## DiFier

Harvester said:
			
		

> *
> 
> oo!! I know! I know!!
> 
> Harv. *




I don't think you count as a contestant.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

*Re: Session Thirteen, Part Four: The Voice of a God*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> "Not now!"  The captain drew the blade from his belt - the very one he'd taken from the elf.  This one knew this was a bad idea... *




You think?  Attacking the heroes, and then keeping their magical weapons close by?  A bad idea? Naaaaah.


----------



## Zarthon

WOW, that was close!

The best story on these boards was almost off the first page.

Im dying to see if it really was the STORM GOD j/k


----------



## DiFier

Woo hoo I now have DSL at home.


----------



## drnuncheon

*I have been lax...*

Fortunately my wife has not.

Update tomorrow.  For now, go read the new thread...

Drusilia Naïlo: Making of a Watchman


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Thirteen, Part Five: The Storm God's Wrath*

The prisoners exploded forth from the hatch.  All around, the sailors hesitated, looking to their captain for guidance.

A harsh voice cut the air. "Idiots!  It was only a spell!  _Malsvirthrae_!"  At his word and gesture, a cloud of billowing green settled over the hatch.  The sound of bodies falling from the ladder, choking and retching, was almost obscured by the clash of weapons on deck.  Only one more figure emerged, carrying a huge blade, the gas clinging to the spikes on his armor as if it did not want to let go.

The captain shifted his blade uncertainly.  "This one thinks he knows the voice of a god when he hears it, brother!"  Then the elf-woman was upon him, and his ineffectual parry was knocked aside by her cutlass.

The captain stumbled backwards, blood staining the shoulder of his finery, and Dru was ready to press her advantage when a leather thong snaked around her blade and yanked it from her grasp.  She turned to see the leather-clad priestess coiling her whip for another strike.

Through the narrow slit in the helmet, Di'Fier could see Volodya desperately trying to hold off a group of marines, but the horse-trainer's life had not been one of combat, and he dropped under one of their blades.  _No time for that now,_ he thought.  _We've got to get rid of their spellcasters or we're all dead._ His blade whistling through the air, he stepped forward, opening a thin red line along the woman's side.

Beside him, Dru had the same idea.  Ignoring the captain - and taking a wound to the side for her trouble - Dru had dived for the machete, grabbing it from her roll and coming up to attack the priestess - who wasn't there.  She followed Di'Fier's gaze, up...the woman had risen into the air, lashed now by the winds and rain but safe from the uprising.  _How dare she?_

"_Sventarcaniss!_"  Di'Fier's spell reached out towards the cleric, trying to pick apart the delicate bonds of magic that held her aloft, but she had woven them too tightly for his spell to breach.  It dissipated, ineffective, as seething black bolts slammed into him from the hand of the captain's brother, sending him staggering a step back.  He shook his head to clear it and took stock of the situation.

Jethis had joined the fray, fighting against his former crewmen.  Blood ran from his scalp, but Shesara was beside him with a cutlass.  Benares was pressing the captain, trying to get past to his demon-worshiping brother.  Dru had managed to slip past the little man's guarding rapier to harry the wizard, but as he watched, a bolt of light burned into her back from the priestess hanging above the deck even as green viscid globs slammed into her from the front.  There was only one thing to do.

So he charged.

Above him, the winds howled, as sailors clung deserately to their perches, trying vainly to furl the sails before the inevitable happened - a tear, running across the fabric. The heavy canvas slapped at of the sailors, sending him plummeting to the deck below.  Knives were drawn as his companions tried to cut the sail loose.  The mast shrieked in protest at the winds.

Di'Fier's first clumsy swing missed the captain by a mile.  The heavy, unfamiliar armor, the tossing of the ship, the slickness of the deck...he nearly pitched head-first into the cabins.  Somehow, the captain's blade found an opening in the armor, and he vaugely wondered why he had even bothered to don it. Sliding to one knee, he brought the blade up and around, forcing the little man to back away - there was no way he could parry it with his slender rapier.

Di'Fier cursed the helmet, hardly able to see from the visor.  He reached up and ripped it from his head, sending it skittering across the deck.  The cold rain beat at his face, but he could see the robed form fall before Dru's withering assault. He swung his own blade into the air and moved forward, letting the familiar patterns of his training move his arms.  The captain could only dodge, his return thrusts skittering off of the plate that protected Di'Fier's chest.  Thye mage stepped forward, slamming the blade down onto his foe, feeling the collarbone shatter even though the mail held.

Then the rolling of the sea and the blood on deck betrayed him, and he fell sprawling on the wood.  Above him, the captain struggled forward with a bloody grimace, raising his good arm to strike his helpless foe...until a foot of heavy steel passed halfway through his neck.

"I wouldn't have made a good slave anyway," Dru informed the captain, prying her rapier from his lifeless fingers.






Flashes of lightning:

The mast shatters. The broken end slams into the deck like a battering ram, splintering wood and shaking the entire ship, flinging crewmen into the roiling sea where they areswallowed without a trace.  The stays give way, and the great log pitches overboard into the storm itself.

In the bilges, chest-deep in brine. The mercenaries labor at the pumps, trying desperately to keep ahead of the incoming water, and curse as they see it is not enough.

The prow of the ship.  An elven woman clings tightly to the stays of the foremast. Her eyes search for anything - a respite from the storm, a scrap of land, anything but the churning waves.

Belowdecks.  Men search frantically for anything that will float, carrying it up to join the makeshift raft that is assembling above them.

Above, two gnomes, a halfling, and an old woman sit trembling in the ship's boat as the raft grows around them.  It is the first sea voyage for any of them - and, they fear, the last.

The ship lurches, shudders like a living thing wounded, grinding against something below the surface.

A wave crashes over the deck, sweeping it clean of raft and men.

Waves toss the raft as the ill-made knots holding it together begin to disintegrate. More bodies are hauled on-board.  One points to something ahead.

A lone figure struggles with the ship's tiller until he sees that the raft is gone.  He commends his soul to his god and waits for the inevitable.

The ship's boat hits sand.  Sad remnants of the raft, still tied to it, bob uncertainly in the shallow water.

_- end of session thirteen - _


----------



## DiFier

clearly someone angered the storm god.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part One: Cast Away*

*Benares' Journal*

_Day (Night) One - Island Beach

We have escaped from the 'tender mercies' of our enslaving captors, but at what cost?  The ship is gone and we are marooned on an unknown island, huddled together under the ship's overturned boat as a makeshift shelter.  Two of our number are gone - Kolya, the quiet leatherworker, and Jethis, who I last saw at the tiller of the ship, still trying to bring it over the reef.

Still, it is a welcome relief from being in chains.  The rather peculiar agents of our deliverance are known as Dru and Di'Fier - they appear to be Watchmen from the City of Freeport and after seeing the way they handle themselves it is a wonder that Freeport is still the lawless city that it is. One would think they would eventually run short of criminals.

My light is fading so I will resume tomorrow.


Day Two - Island Beach

In the daylight, we have managed to collect some of the flotsam that has washed to shore, or near it, including the captain's chest, which appears to be magical.  Dru is trying to open it now, which seems to involve a great deal of kicking and swearing.

We are not a group equipped to handle survival in the wild - of us all, only Unn has more than a passing familiarity with plants, and her expertise is restricted to the cooler latitudes of her homeland.  Still, we shall not want for water, if we can find a container - I at least can provide that.

The elven bard has proved herself of uncommon worth as well - indeed, her healing spells are more powerful than my own, which is good news indeed, for my own capabilities in that area are sorely limited._






Dru looked up from the chest at the all-too-familiar sound of Di'Fier drawing his sword.  Her own blade slid forth from its scabbard, and she scanned the dunes for what he saw, ignoring the surprised looks of her companions.

_There._ Heads, bobbing up from behind the dune.  Coming this way.  _But they're not human...they look like...birds?_  Even as the realization hit her, the creatures charged over the sandy hill with raucous shrieks - birds indeed, taller and more muscular than a man, with cruel hooked beaks and tiny flightless wings.  The others dove for their weapons.

Two steps, and Dru was shoving Unn roughly under the boat to join Jim. _Hopefully they'll ignore them,_ she thought, slicing the air to keep one at bay.  The others had drawn their weapons - they had managed to keep a couple of the cutlasses, and there were plenty of makeshift clubs about - and Shesara's song buoyed them all, filling them with hope for victory.

The thing ran at her again, and she dodged to the side, letting its momentum bury her rapier deep inside it.  The foolish bird staggered back, then came at the astonished Dru again, lashing out at her face and nearly knocking her to the bloody sand.

Di'Fier fell back, crimson running down his arm.  He'd wounded the creature, but it had paid him back, and with interest. _I wish I had some spells left..._  The beak snapped at him again, and he barely managed to interpose his sword, beginning a brief tug-of-war.

Something inside of him snapped.  "I am _not_," he roared, "going to _lose_ to a giant _*chicken*_!" Wrenching his blade free, he brought it around in a wide arc, severing the head and sending the body to run spasmodically down the beach.

He looked around - Dru was pulling her rapier free of another one that twitched on the beach, and the rest of the flock, deciding that discretion was indeed the better part of valor, had taken to the hills, leaving the group of battered survivors behind.

Dru wiped her blade on the feathers.  "I bet you were all wondering where lunch was going to come from."


----------



## drnuncheon

*DM Notes*

I'd like to thank Lazybones (if he still reads!) for reminding me of this classic module with his own Story Hour - although I've done a great deal of customization, the core of the adventure is still there.

For those of you that remember this classic from the Expert Set - they're still on the island, so please, no spoilers!  They might not be things I've changed...

The slavers were actually "evil mirror universe" versions of characters from a different campaign, so a big thanks to Ted and Jared for letting me borrow them (and you too Mel, even though I didn't give you a choice) - and Scott, I'll see if we can't get 'Niemelus' in somewhere later.  You may get a chance to see the real versions at some point in a different story hour (once dnOSH-OSM wraps up).

J


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

I suppose it would not be very sporting of me to encourage spoilers by private email, would it?  

But seriously, good update, doc!


----------



## Zarthon

As usual the update is great 

Im looking forward to our hero's adventures in "The Isle of Dread"


----------



## drnuncheon

*Dramatis Personae update!*

Go here to see the results of Dru & Di'Fier's latest levelling - several sessions past where the SH is right now.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fourteen, Part Two - Reflections*

"I wonder if they've figured out that we're gone yet?"

Di'Fier looked up from the spellbook they'd recovered from the captain's magical chest.  His partner's face was lit from below by the last embers of the fire that she prodded with a stick.  "It's been several days.  I hope so."

"Maybe your mother will teleport in."  She tossed the stick into the fire and rocked back on her heels. "I wonder if Papa is going to have someone try to find me?"

"_I am sure he will_," said a third voice, in Elven - Shesara, emerging from the twilight.  She sat down next to the fire, although it was hardly necessary on such a warm night.  "_Did you say his name was...Naïlo?_"

Dru nodded.

"_I have never heard of that family..._"  The blonde elf seemed puzzled.  "_Where was he from?_"

"_Freeport..._" was Dru's instinctive response.  It had been their home since long before she could remember.  But...something Kennic had said once..."_No...he was from somewhere else, before.  Somewhere on the mainland.  But he never speaks of it._"







The painter sighed, rubbing at his hand, sore and cramped from long hours holding the brush.  The lantern beside him flickered, casting its dancing shadows over the mural that would eventually run the length of the hall.

He didn't particularly want to be there at this hour, but with all of the workmen blundering about during the day, tearing up bloodstained carpet and carrying out ruined furniture, it was the only time that he could work.

"Still," he murmured to himself, his voice sounding surprisingly loud in the quiet stillness of the empty house, "better than painting tavern-signs...or trying to make fat merchant's daughters look beautiful."  He stepped back to admire the scene - the court of Anastrianna, from the scrolls of the _ashanelathinue_.  Who knew his study of literature would have been so useful? There were other painters, more famous painters - he'd never admit if they were better - that had been turned away because they'd never heard the work, or even because they only knew it in translation.

Something creaked behind him.

The painter's heart paused, then thundered ahead twice as fast as before.  One hand crept towards the lantern.  Thoughts raced through his head.  _A burglar, picking through the remnants?_ He wanted to believe such a mundane explanation, but the back of his brain kept reminding him that Verlaine died no peaceful death...

He swallowed, letting the cool iron ring of the lantern's handle steady him.  A hesitant step towards the back...another...was that shadowy movement from the lantern-flame?  Or something else?

_What am I doing?_ his mind gibbered.  And with that thought he turned and fled for the front door.






*Benares' Journal*

_Day Five - Island Beach

We have decided to make our way through the jungle to what may be a settlement.  Di'Fier spotted movement on the ocean, and using the spyglass that Shesara mended, was able to see what appeared to be boats on the water, and an enormous wall. Is it too much to hope that there is civilization on this place?  My knowledge of the seas is limited, but if we were bound for the Caliphates I know of no islands this size between Freeport and there.

Our stock of supplies is largely limited to what we were able to drag ashore from the boat:_
_A leaking barrel of flour (which Shesara has mended by magic)._
_Several large pieces of canvas and rope from the sails._
_A barely servicable net, which has caught us some fish._
_The captain's bed and bedclothes, which somehow floated ashore. I prefer not to speculate on the manacles attached._
_A mirror, miraculously intact._
_The sea chest - Dru has managed to make it open into a wardrobe and close again, and we are supplied with a variety of wide-brimmed if rather excessive headgear to keep the sun from our necks._
_A meagre supply of javelins which Di'Fier has contrived to make from the straightest branches we could find._
_I am not certain of our chances, but the Watchmen at least seem to be survivors - they are the pair who were involved in the occurrences at the Lighthouse of Drac, which we discussed at some length.  After hearing their version of those events, I am deeply troubled that we knew nothing of this, that we still know so little.  I must make a full report when - if - I return._


----------



## Vurt

Whatever it is you fine folks are doin', keep doin' it!  This story hour is one of the few I always hope is updated when I return to this forum.  

And Merry Christmas!

-- Vurt


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Session Fourteen, Part Two - Reflections*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Di'Fier spotted movement on the ocean, and using the spyglass that Shesara mended, was able to see what appeared to be boats on the water, and an enormous wall. *




doh. I forgot about the spyglass that could have been very useful.


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Fourteen, Part Two - Reflections*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Something creaked behind him.
> 
> The painter's heart paused, then thundered ahead twice as fast as before.  One hand crept towards the lantern.  Thoughts raced through his head.  A burglar, picking through the remnants? He wanted to believe such a mundane explanation, but the back of his brain kept reminding him that Verlaine died no peaceful death...*




Just as well Dru and Di'Fier have _Ghost Touch_ weapons


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Fourteen, Part Two - Reflections*



			
				Zarthon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Just as well Dru and Di'Fier have Ghost Touch weapons  *




One of the problems of the Rogue's Gallery getting ahead of the Story Hour.   The story of those weapons is yet to be revealed...

J


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Re: Re: Session Fourteen, Part Two - Reflections*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> One of the problems of the Rogue's Gallery getting ahead of the Story Hour.   The story of those weapons is yet to be revealed...
> 
> J *




That should prove to be quite interesting, I can hardly wait


----------



## Horacio

Well, it seems that Horacio is back to the Story Hour Forum...

It has been a long long time, and a difficult one for me, and it's not still solved. For the full story, you can go here.

So simply to say 'hello!' It's good to be here again. Now I have many stories to read until I arrive to the last chapters of all of them, so I begin right now.

Let's see what Fate brought to my favorites members (or ex-members) of Freeport watch.


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Well, it seems that Horacio is back to the Story Hour Forum...
> 
> Let's see what Fate brought to my favorites members (or ex-members) of Freeport watch. *




Good to see you back, Horacio! Hopefully Fate has been at least slightly kinder to you than it has been to Our Heroes.

J
...although waking up in chains _would_ explain the lack of posting I suppose...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part One: The Swamp Hag*

*Jim's Journal*

_B says we hav ben heer a hol week. He is verry smart and is keeping a jernal so I am too.  We are outsid the jungel and going to go to a sity. Wher we hope we can find a way hom.

Droo and Die Feer sed that they met zombees in the jungel with there lips sode shut. They are wureed that the sity wil be ful of neckromansirs but I dont no what that is. They had a fite about taking sivilians into a danjerus place but Die Feer sed that we are all sivilians here.

I am tird of smoked fish but it is nise to have enuf to eet._






Dru growled.  She'd gone out to try to hunt up something to eat, but the damned jungle had moved around and gotten her lost.

"Stupid jungle," she said, slicing bark from a tree to mark her path.  "Want to be in the city, where there are street signs.  What the hell kind of a tree is that anyway?  Damnit, I hate mosquitos.  Hey, that tree's already got a blaze on it...damnit! I'm walking in circles again!"

In frustration, she stabbed her blade into a hummock and leaned against a tree, arms folded and expression sour.  Her grumbling subsided into mutters, then nothing.  _They'll find me.  Or the sun will rise.  I'd climb a tree but it wouldn't do any good with all the other plants about._

That was when she heard the voice.






"Ampiel's nervous about something.  I'm bringing him back."

Benares nodded, still scanning the woods vainly for any sign of Dru.  Within moments, the black form of the raven emerged from the twilight to settle on Di'Fier's outstretched hand.

"Bird," Ampiel croaked.  "Big bird.  Saw its crap. _Big_ crap."

Di'Fier's brow wrinkled.  "Big like the ones that attacked us on the beach?"

"_Big_ big."  Ampiel fluttered his wings, then flew in a circle several feet across.  "Crap this big. Bird bigger."

"Let's, ah, send you in another direction for now."

"Too dark."






"Yes...yes...you'll be happy in the swamp, my poppet.  Yes, you will."

Dru crawled stealthily through the underbrush, her eyes picking through the gloom, searching for the owner of the voice.  Nothing there but trees and vines - no, wait, that wasn't a vine, it was a snake draped over a titanic stump.  _Is it the snake?_

Then one of the branches shifted as if to stroke the reptile's back, and Dru shook her head.  It was no stump...it was a woman.  She squinted, trying to make out the details.  An _enormous_ woman - ten feet tall and five across, with skin a strange brown-green that made her blend in with the jungle.  She let the snake drape across her shoulders as she stroked it and crooned.

Dru glanced behind her, only to see a light zig-zagging crazily through the trees, far behind her. _Stupid jungles,_ she thought, and then cleared her throat.






Ampiel returned, dropping the twig that still glowed with the light of day.  "No Dru," he reported.

Di'Fier's hand closed around the bit of wood, cutting the light to a mere red glow between his fingers.  "We'll find her tomorrow," he told himself.  "We have to."






Dru found herself subjected to the intense scrutiny of the enormous woman as she bent over to peer at the elf.  The snake that rode her shoulders flickered its tongue in her direction, tasting the air.

"It looks like a man, but it isn't," said the green woman.  "And so pale.  Did it come out from underground?"

Dru scowled.  "From the sea, actually."  Something in the woman's tone made her ask: "Do you not like men?"

"They have their uses.  They come to us when they want something."

"Do you give it to them?"

The woman smiled, revealing twin rows of ivory teeth that were perhaps too pointed to be comforting.  "If there's a bargain to be had."  She studied Dru again. "Are you _sure_ you didn't crawl from the earth?"

"Reasonably. Why do you ask?"

"You are touched by old powers."

"Oh. That's probably Yig."

Dru found herself relating the story of their shipwreck to the strange woman, as the darkness gathered ever closer.  The snake appeared as caught up in her words as the woman, watching her intently from its unblinking eyes.

"So. Lost and shipwrecked. How sad," the woman said. "What are you trying to find?"

"...what a profound question," reflected Dru.

"I could help you become un-lost..."

"What would you want?"

"To find something that was lost in return.  Just a little trinket, a necklace in the shape of an eye."

"...all right."

"I'll ask the trees where your friends are, my darling.  We'll have you back to them soon enough."

The woman lifted Dru into her arms as if the elf were no more than an infant.  The snake slid down to curl on top of her, tasting her chin with its flickering tongue.

"What should I call you?"

"You can call me...the swamp hag.  It's what we've always been called."

"We? How many are there?"

"Just me, dearie.  Just me."


----------



## DiFier

We'll keep quiet about Dru's average on wilderness lore rolls.  

It was tough for dru's player not to follow the "light zig-zagging crazily through the trees, far behind her."  She of course knew what it was but Dru didn't  We'd seen some weird things in that jungle (Like a giant green woman) and I'm not sure Di'Fier would have followed the light either.  

Of course meeting the giant green woman was good and bad.  But you'll find out about that later.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Stupid jungles.  Stupid green women.  Stupid snakes... stupid wilderness lore rolls.  Anyway, yeah, it was hard to restrain myself from following the light, but I could not think of a single reason that Dru would assume, 'Oh, that's Ampiel carrying a glowing twig to get my attention.'


----------



## DiFier

Oh yeah and Dr. N  I like Jim's journal.  did Benares give him paper?


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *Oh yeah and Dr. N  I like Jim's journal.  did Benares give him paper? *




(Oh good, he didn't notice the pages missing from that spellbook...)...I mean...Yeah, yeah, Benares gave him paper. Yeah.

J


----------



## DiFier

So that is where all the powerful spells went.


----------



## Lazybones

*Re: DM Notes*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *I'd like to thank Lazybones (if he still reads!) for reminding me of this classic module with his own Story Hour - although I've done a great deal of customization, the core of the adventure is still there.
> *




Glad I could be of service (I saw the new sig graphic, and was drawn over to take a look)!  It'll be interesting to see how they handle the (SPOILER) and the (SPOILER) and whether or not they can somehow manage to survive the (SPOILER). 

Good luck!

Lazy


----------



## Horacio

Isle of Dread is a good module. I loved Lazybones version, and I think I'm going to love drnuncheon's one too...


----------



## DiFier

I'll be interested in reading  Lazybones' version once we are done with our version.  Hopefuylly next week.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Two: Tanaroa*

*Benares' Journal*

_Day Nine - The Jungle

The strange giant woman that Dru found in the woods proved to be a godsend - not only did she supply us with meat (of unknown provenance, but a welcome change from our rapidly dwindling supply of smoked fish), but she led us to the 'trail' to the village of men, which she tells us is called Tanaroa.  In truth, it is more of a road, at least from the width of it.  We should reach what passes for civilization on this island with another day of travel, which cheered us all immensely, especially the gnomish brothers, who have suffered the most in attempting to keep up with us.

Day Ten - Tanaroa

We have found our way to the village, and made contact with the inhabitants there, although there was a tense moment when we were the center of attention of several dozen men with spears, a situation I am not anxious to repeat.  Still, we were able to convince them of our peaceful intentions.

Only one of them speaks our language - an old man named Mnembe, who learned it from a 'pale man who appeared from the air' - probably a wizard of some sort.  If we can find his spellbook, we may be able to leave the island after all!  Di'Fier is dubious about his ability to handle spells of the Fifth Circle but right now it is the only chance we have.  The wizard vanished on his way to the 'City of the Gods', which we suspect is a remnant of the civilization that built the great wall that spans the peninsula this village is on - certainly it is beyond the engineering capabilities of the Tanaroans.

The Tanaroans, alas, are a people in dire peril.  (I call them the Tanaroans although that is not strictly accurate - they share this peninsula and the surrounding islands with six other villages - Burowao and Panitube are the only names I was able to distinguish.)  They believe that they have angered their gods and are being punished for it.

The reason we were so mistrusted is that another group of 'pale men' was apparently blown off course to this island many years ago, and they have been raiding the villages ever since. I will try to put it down in Mnembe's words:_

Many moons ago—as many as six men can count on their fingers—there came from far away worshipers of evil spirits.  They were pale like the grubs that crawl under rocks, and burnt red by the sun which was displeased at the sight of them.  Their hair was as red as the leaves of an _ojaba_ and it grew all over their faces like an animal.  They came riding a boat that was a dragon, and they wanted to take the sacred sun-metal for themselves.

They landed at Kirikuka and attacked the people there, burning their long-houses and carrying off the girls and women. Then they moved to Burowao and did the same. And Panitube.  By this time the news had reached Tanaroa, and the warriors of the Great Wall left to defend their homes.  So when the raiders attacked Tanaroa we did not have the strength to fight them off, and they carried off our women and killed our warriors.

The Council of Matriarchs met for days to decide what to do, but it was the war leaders of the villages that decided it was time for the young men of the villages to go to war.  And so the seven villages gathered an army, and Masawa the war leader of Tanaroa went to Goto the Zombi Master, and asked him for the help of the spirits.  And Goto summoned a mighty spirit to go with them, and they sailed to the island where the pale men landed and smashed their boat and killed many of them.

But the gods were angered by our presumption, and they sent the dragon-god to punish us for destroying the boat that was his image.  Now he rises out of the water or swoops from the sky to eat fish and fisherman alike, and the pale-man raiders come in stolen boats to take our women and our sun-metal.

_I must finish later. We are to meet with J'kal, the leader of the village._


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Three: Dru Becomes Bored - Danger Ensues*

"J'kal is a woman?" Dru said. "I think I could like this place."

Mnembe shot her a wondering look as they climbed the earthen mound in the center of the village. "That is not how it is done where you are from?  How primitive."  Then he waved them to silence, for J'kal had turned her eyes to them.

The Matriarch of Tanaroa was a wizened, frail figure: small and brown, as all of the Tanaroans, but stooped and bent so as to appear smaller still - yet somehow she dominated the hulking honor guard at her side.  A golden medallion hung around her neck.

J'kal rose her arms to indicate the shipwrecked group, and spoke briefly in her native tongue.  Mnembe turned to translate: "She wishes to know why you have come here, and what your intentions are for Tanaroa."

"She probably thinks we're going to be like those dragon worshipers," muttered Di'Fier to himself.  Then, louder: "Please tell her that we are merely victims of ill fortune, and our goal is only to return to our homeland."  

Mnembe dutifully repeated the words in Tanaroan, then nodded as J'kal spoke to him.  "J'kal will now gaze upon your souls to know the truth of what you speak," he informed them as the woman rose with the help of her guards.  With shaking fingers she lifted the medallion and pressed it to her forehead.  Slowly, a curved line crept across its surface - a line that split, as in the center of the amulet an eye opened.

_That's what the Swamp Hag wants?_ Dru thought to herself. _She can just forget it.  There's no way I'm going to tick off the closest thing this island has to civilization._

The eye roamed over the group, then slowly closed, merging seamlessly into the golden face of the medallion.  J'kal sank back onto her seat and waved a hand, speaking a few words.  Mnembe turned to Dru. "She has ordered that your weapons be returned to you and that you be treated as guests of the village."







"I'll bet we're going to have to go to this 'City of the Gods'," Di'Fier observed around a mouthful of fresh fish.  "Even if we don't find the spellbook, well, they're _gods_.  They'd be able to send us back."

"Maybe it's not the gods at all," Dru mused.  "Maybe it's civilization.  Then we could just get a ship back.  Whatever it is, we should do it soon.  I'm bored."

"I wanted to study the spellbook we got from the ship..." Di'Fier began.

"Bah, you can do that later.  Mnembe tells me that people have been vanishing when travelling between the villages.  We should go check it out."

"I-"

"I've gotten us some food," Dru pressed on. "I tried to get you some armor, but that war leader Masawa didn't want to give me any.  I'll bet he's tied into this somehow."

Di'Fier sighed, closing the book.  "All right.  What can it hurt?"






"This seems familiar," said Di'Fier, pushing a hanging vine out of the way so Shesara could duck under it.  Of all the hipwreck victims, only Benares and Shesara had elected to accompany the Watchmen on their exploration.

"This jungle?  I'm sure we're headed the right way.  The path hasn't turned _that_ much," Dru said.

"No, the situation.  I mean, here we are again, wandering around and hoping someone tries to kill us."

Benares laughed.

"We got some of our best leads that way," Dru objected. "And plenty of potions.  I used to think that my father was deliberately hiring incompetent assassins, stocking them up on potions and sending them after me.  His way of ensuring I had a steady supply."

Shesara frowned. "Why would your father send assassins after you?"

"Well, this was right after I had first joined the watch.  He's sort of involved in the underworld so he wasn't too - do you hear that?"

"Sounds like...bees.  _Big_ ones," Di'Fier guessed.  "Probably not what's picking off the travellers, but we should remember this area...maybe we can find some of that royal jelly stuff that Kathkallan had."

"It's getting dark."  Benares pulled his makeshift pack off of his shoulders and set it by the trail.  "We should think about making camp.  I'll gather some wood for a fire."






First watch:

"Dru?"

"What is it, Di'Fier?"

"This clearing."

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't this big when we made camp."

"What the...you're right."  A pause.  "Should we put the fire out?"

"Then the trees might come _closer_..."

"Good point..."






Dru scowled at the trees in the misty morning sunlight.  As the fire had died down, they had silently crept back to their former places.  "I am totally out of my element here."

Benares returned from up the trail.  "There's a group of people coming up the trail," he reported.

Without Mnembe, communication with the islanders proved near-impossible - a few moments of conversation had exhausted their knowledge of the tongue ('I am from Tanaroa. I do not speak your language.') but produced only frustration in response.  The group repeatedly mentioned Panitube as they shook their heads vigorously and and waving potions with their arms.

"I bet something's gone wrong at Panitube," guessed Di'Fier.  "We...will go...to Panitube," he said, slowly and loudly, trying to make gestures to suit his words.

This brought an even more vehement response, as the islanders pointed back the way the Watchmen had come.  "Tanaroa!  Tanaroa!" they insisted, but Dru was having none of it.

"Come on, the sooner we get to Panitube, the sooner we can kill whatever's causing the problem," she urged.  "If I can't get off this stupid island at least I can take care of some troublemakers."

"I don't know," said Di'Fier.  "Maybe we should go back.  If we go to Tanaroa, Mnembe can ask these people what happened to the village."

"Bah.  We came into this ignorant, why let that stop us now?"






"From what Mnembe told us, we should be about six miles outside of Burowao," Benares said.  "But it's getting dark.  I don't think we'd make it before sunset."

Shesara collapsed on a log.  "We should camp here.  My feet are killing me.  I just want to lie down and rest them for the night."

"Sounds fine to me.  I don't want to run into anything else by wandering around the jungle at night," Dru replied.  "I'll take first watch."

As the others settled down to sleep, Dru pulled her rapier from its scabbard and set it across her knees.  The magic protected it from the worst of the wear and tear but it never hurt to keep one's weapons in top condition.  Besides, the humidity was making the grip swell...

She heard it before she saw anything: a kind of rustling slither.  Her eyes snapped up to scan the jungle, the grassy area they slept in...nothing.  Wait...was that movement?  Something in the grass?  Or was it...

"_Plants!_" she bellowed, leaping to her feet, away from the clutching tendrils.  "Attacking plants!  Everyone get up!  Di'Fier, Benares, get up!"  Her rapier, ill-made for cutting, still performed admirably at slicing through the thin vines that groped for her.

Di'Fier struggled to rise.  His arms tore free of the rootlets that had encircled them, but the vine around his neck was another matter.  His vision swam as he saw Benares in the same position, pulling madly at the plant that choked off his air.  Benares' vine began to loosen...but Di'Fier's did not, and the edges of his vision began to darken.


----------



## Horacio

Great update! (as usual, of coiurse, but great update  )


----------



## Zarthon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Great update! (as usual, of coiurse, but great update  ) *




I agree


----------



## DiFier

maybe for you but I have to hold my breath untill DR. N posts again


----------



## Horacio

DiFier said:
			
		

> *maybe for you but I have to hold my breath untill DR. N posts again  *




Ouch, let's hope he posts soon


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Fifteen, Part Four: Panitube*

_*Compiler's Note:* You hoped I posted soon - and so I have!  It was kind of funny watching Di'Fier turn purple at the game though.

Last night marked the end of the Isle of Dread.  I have been falling far behind, I fear - I have 200 days of game time and about 2 months of real time to cover.  How did I get this far behind?

Not only did I fall behind, I somehow messed up my numbering scheme.  Session 14 was stretching longer and longer, mostly because it incorporated all of fifteen and part of sixteen!  I'm going back to correct that after this post...but for now, Di'Fier needs to breathe!_

Di'Fier struggled with the vine, trying to tear it away from his throat just long enough to gasp another precious breath of air.  He could hear ringing in his ears.  No, not ringing...a song.  A song?  The vine shuddered as something hit it, convulsed, loosened its grip a bit...he dug his fingers in and _pulled_.

Slowly, the vine was forced back, its tiny fibers still groping blindly for him.  He forced it away, ducking under his arm and flinging it off, pulling his sword in the same motion.

Shesara's song faltered as one of the vines lashed across her chest, sending her staggering back as she twisted to avoid its clutches. More of the things quested through the grass, and he swung his blade like a scythe.  Dru had grabbed one and was hacking away with the edge of her rapier even as it wrapped itself around her throat.

A tendril rose snakelike in front of Di'Fier, and he sent his blade slashing through the fibrous pulp once, twice, dropping it to the ground in three pieces.  Benares battered uselessly at the vines with his staff, managing to keep them away from him but little else.

Grimly, Dru sawed at the vine, wishing for just a moment that she had a heavier blade - or maybe one of Ellerand's axes.  She could feel the fibers parting, but she could feel her own consciousness fading as well.  Slow, too slow.  She could see the center of the plant now, a massive knot nestled in a stunted tree...if she could only warn the others.

She tore at the vine with blade and fingernails, falling to her knees.  She could see Shesara tugging at the plant, trying vainly to unwrap it from Dru's throat, even as another one crept up behind her. Dru shoved her down, out of the way, hacking one last time at the vine on her before her blade sliced through the air at the new attacker, its arc cutting cleanly through the tendril.

She stumbled, fell to one knee, and tore at the vine around her neck.  It came off without resisting, and she looked back to see that her last desperate attack had parted it.  She tried to cry a warning to the others, but her voice wouldn't work.

Di'Fier saw Dru sprinting towards the tree.  _What is she doing?_ he thought, his blade cleaving into the dirt.  Severed tendrils writhed a moment before stiffening.  Her blade plunged into something on the tree, again and again, and finally he understood.  With a yell, he leapt over another of the vines and charged.

Dru stabbed at the thing, her rapier thunking into the woody center. _How the hell do you stab a plant to death?_ she thought furiously, her hands numbing from the abuse.  She heard a strangled cry, and threw herself backward just as Di'Fier's blade came smashing down, splintering the plant's ligneous exterior and sinking deep into the pulpy center.

And then it was over.

"Is that..." rasped Di'Fier.  "Is that what's...been getting travellers?"

Dru shook her head. "No...idea.  You sound like Jaffar."  She considered that a moment.  "...we both do."

Benares and Shesara looked on in silent confusion as the Watchmen laughed.






*Benares' Journal*

_Day Fourteen - Burowao

After the disastrous encounter with the plant(s?), which I have tentatively classified as a variant of _vineus assassinatus_, we decided to press on to Burowao, rather than risk spendingmore time in the jungle.  To our great surprise and pleasure, the 'Zombie Master' here received us with much pleasure, and the ability to speak with us magically.

Perhaps I should say a few words about these Zombie Masters.  They are the only practitioners of magic in these villages, and are generally considered to be dangerously insane.  Yet for all that they are accorded a place of power second only to the matriarch and possibly the war leader - depending on the village.  They are the creators and the guardians of the 'walking ancestors', some of which we encountered in the jungle outside the wall.  The walking ancestors are frequently asked to do jobs that are considered too dangerous for the normal villagers.

The Zombie Master seemed rather amused when we told him of our entounter with the vine.  Apparently the people of these villages know the signs of one, and did not consider that we would not have the same sorts of plants where we came from.  He was impressed that we were able to fight our way free. In any case, we should be able to recognize them in the future.

He also confirmed our suspicions that something is wrong in Panitube - the people that went there most recently have not returned.  Today, we will rest, and tomorrow press on to see if we can discover the source of the problem._






For all its silence, the village did not look peaceful.  It was too ominously still for that.  No animals cried in the forest, no fires burned, no people shouted, no children laughed.

They had waited for the cover of darkness before slipping in, letting the keen eyes of the elves guide them.  Di'Fier kept one hand on the hilt of his sword as he crouched low and crept forward towards the stilted longhouses.

"Bottom of the hut," Dru murmured, avoiding the hissing sibilants that might betray their position.  "Body."

They crept closer, sliding easily into the shadows below the longhouse.  Dru reached out, rolling the corpse onto its back, and into the dim moonlight.  "It was bitten," she said, scowling.

"It doesn't look like an animal bite," Benares said.

Di'Fier shook his head.  They'd seen enough wounds like that in the aftermath of tavern brawls.  "It's not.  It's a _human_ bite."

Something about the quality of the stillness changed, and Dru's attention flashed upwards.  "There's something moving out there...and it's getting closer."

Shesara knelt, picking up a rock. She murmered a few words over it, and it began to glow.  Dimly at first, it illuminated only the companions, but then the glow grew brighter, blazing forth until it seemed like high noon, but for the shadows that streamed away from them.

Greyish, hunched figures scattered back from the light, some crouched on all fours, others loping awkwardly on their hind legs.  All were hideous, almost bestial - and yet unmistakably once-human.


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Fifteen, Part Four: Panitube*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Greyish, hunched figures scattered back from the light, some crouched on all fours, others loping awkwardly on their hind legs.  All were hideous, almost bestial - and yet unmistakably once-human. *




Hmmm, I wonder... ghouls, ghasts or perhaps something more sinister


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Sixteen, Part One: Eaters of the Dead*

"They're all around us," said Di'Fier.  At the edge of the light, the creatures circled nervously.

"This light won't last much more than an hour," Shesara said.  "I don't think we can outrun them in that amount of time."

Dru looked around.  "Into the hut.  There's only one entrance, and we can cut them down as they try to climb in.  Di'Fier, what are you _doing_?"

The mage seized another of the huge ladders, dragging it awkwardly back towards the light.  "We can break this apart, use it for a fire."  Benares moved to help him, and as the elves stood guard, they maneuvered it into the longhouse.

The circle of creatures began to close in as Shesara mounted the ladder and the light retreated.






The light was dimming.  Di'Fier shifted another of the thick logs onto the fire, looking out the doorway to see the things loping uneasily back and forth...back and forth, but slowly closing in as well.  

A small knot of the things - perhaps braver than most - began to inch their way towards the dying light.  In the dimness beyond, others scratched and dug at the ground of the graveyard that sat in the center of the circle of huts.

"Remind me again why we didn't pull up the ladder?" Di'Fier asked, as he lifted one of his crude javelins.

"Because they might try to come up it and attack us," Dru said, holding out her hand for the weapons.

"That's what I _meant_!" the mage muttered as he passed it over, then armed Benares before picking up one of his own.  "On three?"

"Just throw them."  Dru fitted action to her words, the wooden shaft arcing out to slam into one of the creatures.  A moment later, Di'Fier and Benares' javelins did the same.

The things squealed in rage and pain, tearing the shafts from their flesh and casting them aside.

"Good throw!"

"Shh!" Benares crept backwards into the longhouse.  "I hear something..."  He cocked his head, listening. "...they're on the roof."

With a hellish shriek, one of the creatures exploded forward, leaping more than climbing the ladder, charging into the blades of Dru, Shesara, and Di'Fier - and crashing down to the ground.

"They can be killed," said Di'Fier.  "That's a good start.  Now, let's see if they _burn_." Releasing one hand from his blade, he summoned one of the few remaining spells from his mind, and a globe of slowly shifting flame formed on his outstretched palm, illuminating his face with a hellish red glow.  He turned his hand, and it arced towards the cluster of creatures, landing square on top of one.  

The creature spun away from the globe, hissing, embers still briefly flaring on its charred skin.  Its companions rushed the hut, but Dru and Shesara formed a wall of steel that forced them back, and Di'Fier's spell leapt eagerly on those who fell.

From the darkness behind them: "They're coming through!"

Shesara ducked under the claws of one of the creatures, planted her blade on the ladder, and shoved.  Deprived of its footing, the thing scrabbled vainly at the floor, dangling from the entryway for a moment before Dru's blade pierced its eyesocket and sent it tumbling to the ground.

Di'Fier spun, racing to back up Benares - three of the things had come through the roof, and they stank of death.  He kept a firm grip on his last meal and swung the sword, but the creature easily ducked the blow.

Benares was already slowing, blood running from a bite on his shoulder, and Di'Fier could see him stiffening - and then a claw raked across his stomach, opening four bloody furrows to a world of pain.  Di'Fier slammed his blade into the offending creature, fighting the effects of its claw.  He could hear Dru's battered boots charging from the front of the longhouse, and saw her blade flash in the firelight, sending one of the creatures to its fate.

Elvensong drifted through his hearing - Shesara's voice, bouying them up, giving them the strength to fight on as she dragged the motionless Benars away from the combat.  His blade sent one of the things crashing to the timbered floor, but the other's claws found him, and his muscles could no longer resist - they locked into place, and the momentum of his swing sent him crashing to the floor.

He heard Dru's voice yelling in rage, a scream of pain, and then nothing.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Fifteen, Part Four: Panitube*



			
				Zarthon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Hmmm, I wonder... ghouls, ghasts or perhaps something more sinister *




Why only use one when all three mean three times the fun? 

Well, the 'something more sinister' doesn't appear until next update, but...well, you'll see.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Sixteen, Part Two: Lord of the Dead*

"...they've stopped."

The words filtered dimly through Di'Fier's consciousness.  He groaned, as well as he could when most of his muscles wouldn't move.

"I hate it when they stop," he heard Dru say. "Whenever they stop it means something worse is going to happen.  Di'Fier, are you back with us yet?"

The mage tried to nod his head.  No good.  He tried to shake it.  Still no good.

"Guess not.  They all headed off to the center of the village like someone'd lit them on fire.  I can't see what they're doing now.  I bet their Zombie Master went insane."

"Gnuuh."

"You sound just like one of them, Di'Fier.  Just wait until it wears off before you try to talk."

The ice in his limbs began to soften, letting them relax once more.  He slowly sagged into a heap, aching over his entire body. "Wha-?" he asked.  "Wha' they doin'?"

From the door, Shesara reported: "...they're coming back."

The humans struggled to their feet, Benares picking up his staff.  Di'Fier let his blade dangle loosely from his hand, grabbing a javelin with the other.

The creatures encircled the hut.  Two lines of them formed an honor guard along which a figure strode, straight and powerful, a spear clasped in his hand, bone armor on his chest.  His skin held the same greyish pallor of the others, but he walked like a man - no, like a leader of men.  He leveled the spear at the hut and began to speak in the language of the Island.  "Burowao," they recognized.  "Mora.   Tanaroa."

"Either he wants to know where we're from, or he's got plans of conquest," Di'Fier speculated.

"FREEPORT!" Dru shouted, sending a burning brand from the fire spinning through the air at the man.  It bounced from his armor in a shower of sparks, and his hunched followers screamed and surged forward.

Di'Fier hurled the javelin in his hand, seeing it sink into the man - then watched in horror as he reached up and ripped the shaft from his flesh, taking a single step forward and sending it on a return journey.  He dove for cover, but it caught him, leaving a bloody line across his hip.

Light blossomed behind him, making the things hesitate, but their master was there, urging them on, and the attack continued.  Undead hands lifted the ladder, slamming it into place as the bodies clambered up it.  

The Watchmen and their allies could do nothing but brace for the charge. Howling corpses slammed into them, clawing and biting, the stench of the grave rolling off of them in great sickening waves. Dru's rapier sent one to the ground, but the next slammed into her, head down, and she stumbled backwards in its clutches until her feet struck wood - and they fell into the fire.

Benares leapt to cover the opening, forcing the things back with blurring blows from his staff.  Behind him, Dru shoved the creature off of her blade and rolled out of the fire, clothing and hair smoldering and ember-filled. The smell of it only added to the stench that hung over the battlefield.

The mass of undead surged forward again, knocking Benares to the ground as they pushed past and into the hut. Di'Fier's blade sang, dropping one to the ground in two pieces, and Dru pierced another through the remains of its heart. Shesara's song seemed to guide their blades as they forced the attackers back or sent them crashing to the floor to die a second time.

From outside the hut, they heard an eerie chanting, and they felt something wash over them like an oily black wave, turning their stomachs and making their skins crawl. 

And then, slowly, the corpses of their fallen foes began to twitch and move once more.


----------



## Horacio

Undead cliffhanger? Creepily cool!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Sixteen, Part Three: Hunger Pangs*

_*Compiler's Note*: I like you guys a lot.  How much?  Two updates in one day much.  How's that for Story Hour, eh?_


Dru stared at the corpse as it began to rise.  "No.  Oh, no.  Not here.  When _I_ kill something I expect it to _stay dead!_  Her head swiveled towards the chanting form of the creature who seemed to be leading the attack.  "I _hate_ undead," she said, running at the door.  "And wizards!" The enraged elf barreled through the creatures that were coming up the ladder, knocking one to the ground and using the next one's face as a springboard to launch her through the air. "And I _really_ hate _undead_ wizards!"

Dru hurtled towards the spear-weilding corpse, who ducked underneath her aerial form with surprising agility.  She tucked, rolled, spun to her feet, lashing out with her blade.

Di'Fier watched his partner hurtling into the mass of ghouls.  "Benares! Keep them back! If we kill the leader, it may win the fight!"  Raising a hand, he summoned arcane energy to twist time itself.  The world slowed around him, and he dodged the slow-moving ghouls easily as he, too, leapt from the hut, blade whirling above his head and coming down hard on the leader, shattering bone and flesh - but the leader seized his arm and ripped bloody flesh from it with his teeth, grinning crimson all the while.

The undead surged forward, now that their foes were in their midst: clawing, biting, tearing at flesh.  Di'Fier's blade fended them off for a few moments, but then one claw and another passed his defenses, and he felt the icy leadenness of paralysis spreading through his limbs.

Across from him, Dru whirled and stabbed, sending her blade into the cannibalistic leader, ducking the spear as it swung over her head like a staff, and then launching herself forward to bury her blade to the hilt: from sternum to scapula.

The leader's head flung back and it screamed as Dru twisted the blade.

Benares stood back-to-back with Shesara, bleeding from countless wounds, scattered across his body in parallel groups of four or twin opposing arcs.  So far he'd resisted the chilling touch of the creatures, but he knew he could not keep that up forever.

A scream echoed across the darkened village, and the monsters seemed to hesitate.  Gaping wounds re-opened on some of them, and they dropped to the floor of the hut like stones.  The others hissed and drew back.  As one, he and Shesara leapt to the attack, battering and slicing at the things until they broke and fled.






Di'Fier wrapped the tattered cloth around him more tightly as he shivered next to the burning hut.  It stank of corpses, but it was heat.  Dru and Benares fought their way up the ladder with one last grisly burden, the heat blasting at them as they flung the final corpse into the flaming maw.

"That should prevent them from getting back up again," said Dru, with some satisfaction.  "How are you feeling, Di'Fier?  I don't particularly want to stay in this place any longer, just in case the ones that ran came back."

"I can walk," he said.

"Then let's go."






Shesara stumbled, fatigue making the ground seem to grab at her feet with every step.  

Dru looked back with some concern - she knew that she and Di'Fier could go on for a while if need be, but Shesara - and, to a lesser extent, Benares - looked haggard and worn.  _If we keep up this pace, she'll walk herself unconscious..._

"All right," she said, raising a hand. "I think we're far enough out that they're not likely to follow us."  _And if they do...well, we'll deal with that then._  "Let's rest for a while."

The elven singer dropped gratefully to her knees, then toppled over on her side.  Di'Fier sank down, unusually quiet, his back to a tree.  Benares used his staff to help him sit, and Dru herself stood surveing the terrain.  "Get some rest," she told the others.  "I'll take first watch."






Sometime the next day they stumbled into Burowao: filthy, bloodstained, trailworn, exhausted - and completely unprepared for the sight of a score of warriors, spears at the ready, leveled at them.

"Oh, what did we do _now_?" Dru snapped.  "We got rid of their stupid crazy Zombie Master for them..."

The ranks of the warriors parted, and an emormous man stepped through.  His face was painted to resemble a skull, his headdress was of grey feathers, and curved bone pegs pierced both nipples.  "What Zombie Master did you slay?" he demanded, his flinty gaze locked on Dru.

"The one from Panitube," she said, grateful that he could speak their language at least.  "He was raising an army of creatures - I think they were ghouls, and I think he was trying to destroy the other villages."

The Zombi Master of Burowao shook his head.  "Panitube has no Zombi Master.  He was slain by the worshipers of the dragon.  Describe the man you say you slew."  As he listened, he nodded slowly.  "He is known to me.  A great hunter from Tanaroa.  He was believed lost in the jungle with his companions."

"What was his name?"

"We do not name the dead.  To do so is to call them back.  It is good that you have slain him.  We will hunt his serants by day.  Without him they will be disorganized and weak."






Di'Fier looked down at the meal that he had been given.  He was still cold, despite the heat of the day, and the fire that he sat by.  He must have caught something, running around in the jungle while he was wounded.  He missed being able to go to the Temple of the Merchant God.

For some reason, the food didn't look at all appetizing in his bowl.  He stirred it listlessly, staring down at it, fighting the feeling of nausea he felt...nausea and fear.

Because when he looked out across the village of Burowao, he could see a group of children playing happily in the dirt beneath one of the huts.

And only then was he hungry.


----------



## Jon Potter

*Re: Session Sixteen, Part Three: Hunger Pangs*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Because when he looked out across the village of Burowao, he could see a group of children playing happily in the dirt beneath one of the huts.
> 
> And only then was he hungry. *




Oh, you evil, evil man, Dr.N!

Is ghoulish-ness catching? Is this undead warrior carrying some unwholesome disease? Will Di'Fier be dining on human flesh before this adventure's over?

With questions like that as yet unanswered, how can I NOT keep reading?


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Session Sixteen, Part Three: Hunger Pangs*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *For some reason, the food didn't look at all appetizing in his bowl.  He stirred it listlessly, staring down at it, fighting the feeling of nausea he felt...nausea and fear.
> 
> Because when he looked out across the village of Burowao, he could see a group of children playing happily in the dirt beneath one of the huts.
> 
> And only then was he hungry. *




ARRRGGGGG!!!!!!1

That is an EVIL cliffhanger!

More, please!


----------



## DiFier

he ended that weeks session like that too.


----------



## Horacio

DiFier said:
			
		

> *he ended that weeks session like that too. *




Then he is an eeeeevil person...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Sixteen, Part Three: Hunger Pangs*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> With questions like that as yet unanswered, how can I NOT keep reading? *




Gee, I thought it was just to see if you showed up again...

This next 'update' is new to the players as well - a peek at what's going on back in Freeport.  There's a decent chance that some of you will be reading this before they do...

J
what, me continue a cliffhanger? Nah.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Interlude: Freeport*

The artist looked nervously around him.  He was surrounded by pools of light from the many lanterns he'd brought.  Somehow, they did little to dispel the darkness in the house.

Oh, he'd _tried_ to work during the day, but the movers and the renovators and the painters were constantly in the way. One careless swipe with a rolled-up tapestry had ruined an hour of work.  He'd have preferred to wait until they were all done, but Roth was insisting on his deadline.  So here he was, alone, in the haunted house of Verlaine.

"I should be working in daylight," he grumbled.  "It makes the hallway look completely different."  He closed his eyes, tried to picture the hallway with the afternoon light streaming in through the front door, supplemented by candles...

He heard a noise.  A scratching sound, and then a creak.

Seizing up a lantern, clutching his palette knife, he whirled, playing the light up and down the hallway.  Nothing.  It was nothing.

_But if it's nothing,_ he thought to himself, _why does it bother you so much?_  He eyed the door to the wine cellar - it stood slightly ajar.  _Was that where it had been?_

"Probably just rats," he said, and the sound of his own voice startled him.  "_Definitely_ rats."  But his thoughts were troubled as he picked up the brush.

It had sounded like a footstep.






The small knot of wizards gathered in the tower chamber.  Collected here were the flower of Freeport's arcanists: the most powerful and skilled that the city had to offer.  Perhaps an unlikely assortment, if one expected all wizards to be clad in robes, with long, flowing beards and wooden staves: in fact, only the High Wizard himself met such a description.  He stood at the center of the chamber before the pedestal, arranging the golden mirror upon it.

Around him was arrayed the rest of the circle: Andolyn, her round face still flushed from the exertion of climbing the stairs.  Tiera Dela, the recluse whose mastery of the arcane arts surpassed even High Wizard Tarmon's. The gnome Glunnyn Mernig, standing on a crate to bring him to eye level with the rest of the wizards, whose expertise in divination more than allowed him entrance into such august company.  And of course the reason for the circle: Eleanor.

Arrayed around the mirror were items: a lock of hair, a pair of boots, a battered Watch medallion, a spellbook.

Tarmon raised his staff.  "It is prepared," he said, and the other participants moved slowly forward, each to take an item:  Glunnyn clambered down from his crate to seize the badge.  Tiera held the lock of hair, pursing her lips as she studied it.  Andolyn reached for the boots. "I remember, he was wearing these when he came to my house.  You can still see the stains from the tomato sauce," she said.

Tarmon lay his free hand on the book.  "Then we will-"

The door crashed open, and without looking Tarmon roared, "*Glenfield!* We were not to be dist-"

"Quiet, you young fool," wheezed a voice between deep breaths.  "I was scrying when you were still struggling with your cantrips.  And don't think I've forgotten about that incident with the _mage hand_ and the cook's apprentice."

"High Wizard _Emeritus_ Volund," Glenfield announced weakly.

"Father, you shouldn't have climbed up all this way - your heart," Eleanor protested.

The ancient wizard, ashen-faced, leaned heavily on the gnomish apprentice and leveled his staff at the assembly. "Nobody's going to keep me from looking for my grandson.  Step aside, Tarmon." 

As the High Wizard did so, Volund took a few hesitant steps, as if judging his strength, then lowered his eyes for a long, silent moment. "Eleanor.  You're closer to him by blood than I am.  You lead the circle."  His gnarled hands gripped his staff tightly as he inched forward the rest of the way.

With a worried glance at her father, Eleanor stepped forward. The other wizards arranged themselves, and the ritual began.






_This is undoubtedly the most foolish thing I have ever done,_ thought the artist as he crept forward.  The stair creaked under his weight, making him freeze in shock, and nearly drop the sword he'd found mounted on the wall upstairs. _Better not drop it,_ he thought.  It looked expensive.

His palm was slick on the gold-wire-wrapped hilt as he shifted it nervously.  _Not that I know how to use it.  Hopefully just the threat of it will be enough..._ He sucked absently on the finger he had cut when testing the blade's edge.  _Why is it still bleeding?_

The racks of wine cast strange jagged shadows around the room in the lantern light.  All from the mainland, of course - the soil of A'val was not conducive to the grape - of kinds and vintages he'd never seen before.

He eased along the racks, lantern held high, sword low.  _It doesn't look like there's anybody down here.  It must have been rats.  That's funny..._ He paused.  _From here, the shadows make it look like there's a door over on the other side._ He crept forward. _Wait...it is a door..._

A hand fell upon his shoulder, and he screamed.






"...it's no good."  The young elf let the mirror drop to the desk with a snarl.  "I can see nothing, and with this lock of her hair it should be _easy_," he complained.  "Somebody must be blocking the spell somehow."

"I see."  Tensin's words were even, measured.  "Thank you once again for your time, Alust."

Alust flushed, as he finally remembered who he was speaking to.  "I will do my best to find out how to counter such a magic." He bowed, stiffly, and at Tensin's nod exited the room.

"I do not trust him," said Kennic, arms folded. "He is too close with your other daughter.  He could just be _saying_ he can't see her..."

"Alust merely confirms what other wizards have told me, Kennic: my daughter is somehow beyond the reach of scrying spells - even from the most powerful wizards in Freeport."  Tensin reached into his desk and began to extract set after set of the slim, leaf-shaped blades he favored, arranging them neatly before him on the desk.  "There is only one place I know of that would block such magic so thoroughly.  I carried her out once and I will do so again."

"What if she's not there?" The loyal retainer rose to his feet, staring at the other elf.

Tensin's lips pressed together in a thin line, with the barest hint of a smile creasing them.  "I brought myself out as well, Kennic."

"And what of the organization?  Tensin, these people depend on you..."

"If my daughter is indeed where I believe, then the organization has failed."






Spruce stood nervously in front of Captain Donnach, with Katya by his side.  The red-haired priestess nodded to him, and the clerk began to speak.

"Sir, after checking over the port records of departures, based on the underground passage we've found, we think we've discovered what ship they were on.  It's the _Fortune's Folly_, bound for the Caliphates."

Donnach's brow creased.  "The Caliphates?"

Spruce nodded.  "There's more. The passage has been there a while, so we checked on missing persons reports back several years. If I'm right, they've been operating a slave ring in Freeport for over a decade."

"Slaves?" Donnach slammed his fist into the table. "All the gods damn it to the bottom of Hell!  There's not that many laws in Freeport, you'd think it'd be _easy_ not to break them!"

"I've got a feeling it's bigger than Freeport, sir," Katya interjected.  "Even if half of the people they took went unreported, there's no way they could be turning a profit on voyages to the Caliphate.  They must be picking up a few people here and there, to avoid notice where it's illegal...and picking up a few extra coins for 'disposing' of unwanted people."

"Unwanted people?  So you think Dru and Di'Fier were deliberately targeted?"

"We do, sir.  I think otherwise the slavers would have run when the fight got too hot for them." 

"They've certainly made enemies," Donnach admitted.  "But do you have any leads on who?"

"No sir," said Spruce. "But we did have this report."  He set it down on the desk, and Donnach perused it.

The Captain frowned.  "This is in the Merchant's District - nowhere near the docks.  Missing artist, working on a mural? How does this fit in?  Are you sure he didn't just make off with the silver?"

"Not a robbery, sir - nothing was missing.  And...look at the address."

"100 Wave Street.  Wait...Verlaine's house?"

Spruce nodded.  "I checked with Reed at the hall of records, and he said it had been bought recently."

"By none other than Torsten Roth," Katya added.  "But Roth doesn't have the title.  In fact, it took a lot of digging to find out who did - it's almost as if someone wanted to bury it."

"So who owns it?"

Spruce looked at Katya, then back at the Captain.  "Drusilia Naïlo."


----------



## Horacio

Evil. Now I'm sure. drnuncheon is eeeeevil...


----------



## DiFier

Whoa, I guess we are missed.  

I think we had discussed why we hadn't been scryed and then teleported off the island.  Perhaps the island doesn't allow scrying


----------



## Jon Potter

I love the way you've got the world going on without our heroes center stage. It's quite artfully done.

I have to wonder whether Di'Fier will be welcome back in Freeport if he's tasted 'the other white meat'. Although, come to think of it, there are a few places in town where cannibalism isn't frowned upon.


----------



## DiFier

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *I have to wonder whether Di'Fier will be welcome back in Freeport if he's tasted 'the other white meat'.*




Pork?


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Pork? *




Of the long variety...

J


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Of the long variety...
> 
> J *




I'm glad that my obscure Mythos references haven't fallen entirely on deaf ears.


----------



## Horacio

You're eeevil people, poor Di Fier...


----------



## DiFier

you all be quiet you're making me hungry


----------



## Horacio

DiFier said:
			
		

> *you all be quiet you're making me hungry  *




_Horacio looks frightened and quietly tries to go our of here..._


----------



## weiknarf

*Re: Interlude: Freeport*

Whew.  Just caught up.




			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *The artist looked nervously around him....
> A hand fell upon his shoulder, and he screamed.
> 
> 
> The Captain frowned.  "This is in the Merchant's District - nowhere near the docks.  Missing artist, working on a mural? How does this fit in?  Are you sure he didn't just make off with the silver?"
> 
> *





It doesn't pay to win a contest to be a guest star in your story, does it?


----------



## DiFier

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

You don't know the half of it.  Jon I'm so sorry.


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Re: Interlude: Freeport*



			
				weiknarf said:
			
		

> *It doesn't pay to win a contest to be a guest star in your story, does it?   *




You can say that again


----------



## Jon Potter

DiFier said:
			
		

> *Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
> 
> You don't know the half of it.  Jon I'm so sorry. *




Well, based on the survival rate of most others who come in contact with Dru and Di'Fier, let's just say I didn't have high hopes of seeing the completion of that mural. I'm actually pleasantly  surprised that I've lasted this long.

The question wasn't really _if_  I would die, but _when_ !


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Who said that he was going to let you die?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Minor Spoiler*

As of last night's game, "Jon" the artist was still alive.

J
...who will say absolutely nothing else about his condition...


----------



## Jon Potter

*Re: Minor Spoiler*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *As of last night's game, "Jon" the artist was still alive.
> 
> J
> ...who will say absolutely nothing else about his condition... *




Well, maybe there's hope that Dru will get to enjoy the court of Anastrianna mural with its "bizarre yet beautiful collection of towers, bridges, and spires" where "even the windows are oddly shaped and colored so that the entire city glitters and sparkles day and night".*

Of course, since the artist's condition is still up in the air, perhaps the mural will live on only in his imagination.

-Jon

*Paraphrased from a description of an elven city by Clay Luther posted to the WFRP mailing list in 1993.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Minor Spoiler*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Well, maybe there's hope that Dru will get to enjoy the court of Anastrianna mural with its "bizarre yet beautiful collection of towers, bridges, and spires" where "even the windows are oddly shaped and colored so that the entire city glitters and sparkles day and night".*




It seems altogether more likely that she will enjoy a mural with a 'bizarre and unsettling collection of towers whose cyclopean architecture and subtly non-Euclidian spires are lit by an eldritch light that exists only on the boundary between imagination and madness'...

J


----------



## DiFier

Well now that we have finished the Island of Dread section of our adventure I am now reading Lazybones' version.  It is neat to see the similarities and diferences.


----------



## Horacio

DiFier said:
			
		

> *Well now that we have finished the Island of Dread section of our adventure I am now reading Lazybones' version.  It is neat to see the similarities and diferences. *




Yup, both stories are similar yet very different... and both are very very good...


----------



## DiFier

wow I just finished Lazybones Isle of Dread and I'm reading the next book but I'm still way behind.  I'm eventually gonna catch up.


----------



## Horacio

DiFier said:
			
		

> *wow I just finished Lazybones Isle of Dread and I'm reading the next book but I'm still way behind.  I'm eventually gonna catch up. *




Well, the guy updates almost daily, so keeping the pace is a bit tricky, he writes too much and too well... I love Lazybones Story Hour. 

And yes, drnuncheon, I'm pimping another story hour in yours. But I also pimp yours in his story hour, so I think there is no problem


----------



## drnuncheon

I suppose reciprocal pimping is OK.  Especially if it gets me more readers.  (Memo to self: put up poll next time: 'Do you read this story hour?')

There are a lot of differences between LB's IoD and mine - his stuck very much more to the basic adventure, while mine was...hrm...'heavily adapted', to say the least - the swamp hag, thr ghoul lord, the dragon-god...

For the next update, Di'Fier contributed some of his own thoughts in the form of a journal entry, so we'll actually have stuff from the DM and all the players included once again!  You'll see that as soon as I finish writing the rest of the update.

Now if we can just convince him to do 'Di'Fier: Making of Another Watchman"...

J
No pressure!


----------



## Horacio

So when are you going to put another update?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Seventeen, Part One: "Call it a gut feeling."*

_*Di'Fier's Journal, Day 16*

I'm so hungry.  I haven't eaten anything all day.  Yesterday I snuck a piece of raw deer that the hunters brought back. It satisfied my hunger for a while, but today the hunt was unsuccessful and there are only plants to eat.  I can't keep them down.  I have sequestered my self in one of the many empty huts here and have begun to try to master this spell book. I am close.

Perhaps there is something in here that can help me, though I fear to actually master it lest I turn to a 'ghoul lord' myself and cannot help but use it against my friends.  I am going to speak to the Zombie Master here in this village - he seems less of the jealous sort than the one from Tanaroa. Perhaps with his knowlege of the undead he can cure me.  If he can not I will search out the shipwrecked invaders that are attacking these villages and do my best to wipe them out.  I wouldn't feel as bad about eating them._ (This sentence is partially crossed out but still readable.)

_Oh gods I can't believe I have written that but I have chosen to leave it in my journal which I will leave here when I go to die at the hands of the invaders.  

Shouts.  Another hunting party is returning.  Perhaps they will have some meat._






Dark eyes bored into his from beneath the skull tattoo.  "When you slew the eater of the dead, its essence fled to find another host.  You have invited the evil spirits into your body in some way.  Only by finding that way and atoning for it can you halt this progression."

Di'Fier crouched, staring into the Zombi Master's fire.  The acrid herbs burning made his eyes water, but he couldn't watch the man's face anymore.  "How did it come to him?"

"Eating the flesh of man will bring the evil spirits to you."

"But I've never-" Di'Fier cut himself off. He'd obviously done _something_...Dimly, he recalled Mnembe's words about the Zombi Masters: "They are all insane, and deal with evil spirits so that the rest of the village does not have to.  Only they may work magic."  He licked his lips - he had kept his magery as secret as possible on the island after hearing that, but..."Could the working of magic open the door for these spirits?"

"No.  It must be opened wider."

"I see.  I...may have more questions."

"See that you do not wait too long before you ask them."

Despite the heat, Di'Fier shivered as he stumbled away.






"When we get off this island..._if_ we get off this island...are you going back to your homeland?" Dru leaned back against the log, nervously glancing behind her to the graveyard.  She couldn't get used to the way these people buried their dead in the center of their rings of houses.  _Why can't they cremate them like sensible people? It stops all of this undead nonsense._ Still, facing this way let her keep an eye on the road from Panitube.

"We _will_ get off of this island," replied Shesara fiercely.

Dru looked over at her, somewhat startled.  It was perhaps the fiercest emotion the bard had shown since they met - and it was a good sign.  Maybe she was starting to heal. The forced trek through the jungle had weakened her, and the fever from the filthy claws of the creatures had done so even more.  Dru was about to speak when Di'Fier shuffled up, a haunted expression on his face.  "Di'Fier? Are you all right?  You've been behaving strangely the past few days."

"The leader of those creatures?"  Di'Fier glanced around the circle. "I think it's trying to possess me.  Call it a..." He managed a weak smile. "Call it a 'gut feeling'.  The Zombi Master says that I must have done something to invite it in, and I can only be cured if we discover what it was I did.  I think my magic is why it chose me, but he says there must be something else..."

Benares set his quill down, rubbed his eyes and winced.  "Let me peruse my journal, although I don't remember anything that would have invited evil spirits in.  Did he say how the evil spirit got into the creature in the first place?"

Di'Fier nodded. "He said that the man used to be a great hunter, and was lost outside the village.  He must have eaten the meat of a man, and the evil spirits entered his body at that time."  He swallowed.  "I've eaten a lot of strange things, but never a _person_..."

"You don't think those birds were intelligent, do you?" Dru mused.  "The fish certainly weren't.  They weren't afraid of me at all."

"No, and everything else we ate the villagers gave us," Di'Fier sighed...then stiffened.  "Except..."

"...yams certainly weren't," Dru muttered, continuing her litany. "What was that, Di'Fier?"

Benares raised his head from his journal as realization slowly dawned.  "We only ate one thing that we didn't know where it came from," he said.

DI'Fier nodded.  "The meat from the Swamp Hag."

_*Next Time:* The funeral of Dru & Di'Fier!  Don't miss it!_


----------



## Horacio

Will DiFier turn into a ghoul?
Will Dru and Difier survive to their own funeral?

All this and much more in next update of
*drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour*


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Session Seventeen, Part One: "Call it a gut feeling."*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> * "You don't think those birds were intelligent, do you?" Dru mused.  "The fish certainly weren't.  They weren't afraid of me at all."
> 
> "No, and everything else we ate the villagers gave us," Di'Fier sighed...then stiffened.  "Except..."
> 
> "...yams certainly weren't," Dru muttered, continuing her litany. *




Thank god the yams wern't intelligent.


----------



## Vurt

*Re: Re: Session Seventeen, Part One: "Call it a gut feeling."*



			
				DiFier said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Thank god the yams wern't intelligent. *




But think of the missed opportunity for Popeye jokes!

Runs, ducking for cover,
Vurt


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Seventeen, Part Two: The Funeral of Dru & Di'Fier*

The bodies were washed: carefully, lovingly.  They were laid upon scented wood and anointed with oils and perfumes - perfumes that a person would wear only once in their existence.  They were wrapped in the finest cloths and hung about with the sacred sun-metal, to guide them through the long darkness.

The boards were lifted, and the bodies carried out into the night.

The people of the Tiger clan wept so see such mighty warriors lying cold and pale.  They had come from a far land, but they had not hesitated to give their all for the people of the island, and now they were honored for their sacrifice.

The man and woman chosen as their spouses (for both were, as far as the villagers could tell, unmarried - but it is improper to send a spirit to the afterlife without a grieving spouse) wept and tore their hair, flinging themselves to the dust and pouring it over them as if to join them in the grave.

All of the clans had fought for the honor of having such heros in their graveyard, but the Tiger Clan had won, and so it was there that the bodies were borne, and laid upon great pyres.  As great heros, they would not be buried, but the smoke of the flames would carry their spirits to the heavens and assure them a place among the stars.

The two strongest warriors of the Tiger Clan came forth, bearing long staves whose ends blazed with light.  They saluted the pyres.

In the darkness around them, shapes moved.  Hunched and moaning, bursting forth from the darkness, faces painted with white in the shape of skulls and armed with staves of their own, a howling horde!  Bravely the warriors of the Tiger Clan fought as the village watched, battling back the menace, sending them into the darkness.

Everyone agreed it was a fine dance, and a worthy retelling of the heros' last battle.

The warriors saluted each other, and raised their burning staves.






Grey.

Everything, grey: like ash blown over a landscape blurred by mist.

Dru climbed to her feet, slowly, stiffly.  "This...is not what I expected."

Beside her, Di'Fier sat up. "Me neither."  He picked up the sword that lay beside him as he climbed to his feet, looking around.  "Where are we?"

Dru slowly turned in a circle.  "I'm not sure.  There's no buildings or anything, but..." she pointed. "That hill looks familiar, it's just like the one outside of Burowao."

"So where do we go now?"  Di'Fier studied himself and his partner. Like the landscape, they too were grey, the colors washed out of them by the nature of whatever strange place they stood in.  A chill passed over him.

Slowly, though, he began to distinguish...something...from the mist.  A thin thread, trailing away from him into the grey expanse, black as sin.  "Dru...look.  I think this is what we should be following."

Dru looked behind him, and then to her own body.  She frowned, puzzled, and held up her wrists.  Tiny filaments of green - the only color in the landscape - writhed like serpents from them to join together and vanish in another direction.

"It must be your connection with the Jade Serpent," ventured Di'Fier.

"So, we could follow it back to Freeport?"

"For all the good it would do us," he said, looking pointedly around at the grey ground, the grey trees.  "No, let's get this thing over with."  He stepped forward, tracing the thread of black, and Dru followed - but not without a long look towards wherever the green thread ended.  _Oh, Papa..._






"How long have we been walking?"

"I can't tell.  I'm not tired yet - are you?"

"No. Nor hungry.  But..."

"What's wrong?"

"This is it.  This is the place."

"It is?"

"Where she fed us.  The Swamp Hag.  I..."

"Di'Fier?  Are you all right?"

The mage fell to his knees, the sword landing eerily soundlessly beside him.  His arms clutched his stomach as he bent forward, heaving.  Even in the endless expanse of grey, Dru could tell he'd gone paler.

"Di'Fier?"

"Inside me...it..."

Dru pulled her blade, glaring frantically out at the mists. "I can't just cut you open!" she cried.

"Get it...out..."

"Stick your finger down your throat!"

A gagging sound, and then it was cut off as Di'Fier convulsed. Thick and tarlike, something oozed from between his lips, cutting off all sound.  His gut wrenched again, forcing more of it out - a questing, writhing mass as long and thick as an arm, impossibly forcing its way from his throat.  It seemed to grow and swell, even as he heaved more of it from his own body. Thin legs peeled themselves from sides glistening with slime, and a maw opened at the end of a serpentine neck.

Di'Fier choked out the last bits of blackness and stared up at the thing, three times his size now, grasping weakly for his blade as the thing reared up on its four hind legs, its tiny eyes swiveling between him and Dru.


----------



## Horacio

Disgustingly wonderful update...


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Seventeen, Part Two: The Funeral of Dru & Di'Fier*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Di'Fier choked out the last bits of blackness and stared up at the thing, three times his size now, grasping weakly for his blade as the thing reared up on its four hind legs, its tiny eyes swiveling between him and Dru. *




Now I wonder what that could be


----------



## Jon Potter

*Re: Re: Session Seventeen, Part Two: The Funeral of Dru & Di'Fier*



			
				Zarthon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Now I wonder what that could be  *





I don't know, but nothing good ever came of a creature born of vomit...


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

*Re: Re: Re: Session Seventeen, Part Two: The Funeral of Dru & Di'Fier*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> 
> I don't know, but nothing good ever came of a creature born of vomit... *





I'll second that!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Seventeen, Part Three: A World of Endless Grey*

Di'Fier's hand groped blindly for his sword as the thing reared back its head, teeth stretching wide.  He felt the cold grip on his fingertips and yanked it towards him, his other hand coming up as if to ward off the creature.  Arcane syllables sparked from his lips, and golden light suffused the grey for an instant as globes of force leapt the distance from his hand to the creature.

The globes ripped into its flesh, triggering an eruption of blackness that resolved itself into a horde of vermin, tiny copies of the creature, swarming towards their victims on wire-thin legs.

Dru dived through the horde, sending them scattering from her ragged boots.  Her blade was in her hand, sinking deep into the creature once, twice.  She could feel the bites of the tiny creatures sinking into her flesh as they crawled up her legs, feel the fires of their venom in her blood.  Reflexively she looked to her wrists...but they remained stubbornly unmarked.  _Oh, no..._

The giant creature finally fixed on its prey, its head arcing downward with the savage finality of an avalanche, its teeth tearing into Di'Fier's shoulder, all but yanking him to his feet as it lifted upwards.  The flesh parted under the assault and he dropped, blood soaking his clothing and staining the grey earth a dull red.

Ignoring the fire in his arm, ignoring the spawn of the thing that climbed upon him and bit at him, Di'Fier raised his blade, sending it whistling through the air, slashing deep into the thing's underbelly and causing another explosion of its foul brood.  The blade reared back, then forward like an arrow, flashing white as it struck deep, leaving a frost-rimed hole as the mage staggered backwards.

The creature crumpled and sagged, as if it were an inflated bladder losing air.  Wisps of blackness began to rise from it as it dissolved back into the grey.

Dru leapt forward, knocking the tiny creatures from Di'Fier and stomping them as they hit the ground.  With his remainign strength, he did the same for her, and soon only smoky bits of black remained in the mists - and then, those too were gone.

"Was that...what we ate?" Di'Fier asked himself.  "Or was it just...the spirit..."

"I don't know," said Dru.  "But whatever it was, we're not finished here yet."  She pointed to where the thin thread of black still ran from Di'Fier into the grey mist.






"How long have we been walking?"

"I can't tell.  I'm not tired yet - are you?"

"No. Nor hungry.  But..." A pause.  "Haven't we had this conversation before?"

"Yes.  How's your shoulder?"

"It hurts.  But I don't seem to be bleeding.  The bites?"

"Whatever it was, I was able to shrug it off without the Jade Serpent's help.  I wish I knew why it didn't work."

"This is the spirit world.  It probably wasn't a real poison at all."

"So...a metaphorical poison?"

"Right.  Hey! Where'd the thread go?"

"We were just following it...it's attached to you, how can you lose it?  Wait...I see it."

"Where?"

"It goes up."

"You're right."

"Can we do that?"

"It _is_ the spirit world..."






Above, in the trees, a strange creature awaited them, its orange-brown fur a sharp contrast to the formless shades of light and dark around them.  Long, clever fingers reeled in the 'thread' that was attached to Di'Fier, and when the wizened muzzle pulled back it revealed teeth of gleaming ivory.  But the eyes above it were not those of a beast: they were old, wise, and sad.

The thing raised a hand to gesture them closer, showing the flaps of skin that ran from wrists to ankle, intricately painted - or perhaps tattooed - with unknowable designs that danced as the skin moved.  It looked them over carefully, as if judging them.

"You may tell your shaman," it began, and the voice startled them as much as the language, "that he is not strong enough to break the doom I have laid upon you."  The eyes closed, and it seemed to let out a sigh.  "Why have you done what you did?"

Di'Fier licked his lips, glancing to Dru, then stepped forward.  "Sir...we did not know what we were eating.  We were tricked into it by a woman who calls herself the Swamp Hag.  She brought us the meat, and did not tell us what...who...it was from."

The ancient creature snarled.  "Too long has she troubled us.  An accounting there must be."  The eyes fixed upon Di'Fier again. "It is the law of Yazir that someone must pay for this crime: life for life, death for death.  When payment has been made, you must return to me, and I will lift the doom.  Now go, for they pull upon the strands of your life and I will not spend the strength to keep you here longer."

At his words, the duo felt an insistent pull, a pull that drew them ever more rapidly through the formlessness around them until even the mists were blurred.  The greyness came to meet them like a stone floor at the end of a long fall, and then everything faded to black.


----------



## Horacio

Wonderful spiritual update, drnuncheon 

So the must kill the hag now... hmmm...

I want more!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Seventeen, Part Four: Convalescence*

Her opening eyes were greeted by a thin line of red on the eastern horizon.  The Zombi Master looked down upon her from behind his skull tattoo, and gestured to the rising sun. "It is good that you have returned," he said, gsturing to the sun that crept imperceptibly upwards.  "I fought for hours to bring you back.  Had the sun risen you would have been trapped in the spirit worlds."

Dru shook her head, her mouth cottony.  "Di'Fier?" she managed to get out.  When the Zombi Master didn't answer, she swung herself off of the wooden platform, stumbling as her legs nearly refused to support her weight.  "What. About. Di'Fier?"

The islander faced her calmly.  "His battle took a heavy toll.  The spirit's venom is still inside of him, although the spirit is gone.  He is no longer in the grey world - he is inside his own mind now.  He is past my ability to help him, or yours.  Only _he_ may decide whether he will return."

Dru stepped across and leaned heavily on the other platform, inspecting the catatonic mage.  "You'd better," she said softly. Looking up, she met the Zombi Master's deep set eyes.  "Tell me about the Swamp Hag."






Steel rang on steel - a sound unfamiliar to the villagers of Burowao.  Slowly the Tiger Clan filtered from their huts, looking to the field that lay fallow for a season by order of the gods.  The strange visitors were fighting, went the rumor.  What's more, it was the _women_ who were doing it!  What strange, barbaric ways these pale-skinned folk had...

Only dimly aware of their audience - and then only as the vague registering of a possible threat - Dru parried Shesara's slash easily. "Almost - but you've left yourself open again."  She tapped the flat of her blade against the other elf's ribs.  "Don't overextend."

Shesara pulled her cutlass back into line.  "I think I'd much rather _sing_ about swordfighting than actually do it."  She began the attack again, her blade sliding off of Dru's rapier again and again as the elven warrior parried.  "What did the Zombi Master tell you about the Swamp Hag?"

"She used to be one of the villagers, he said.  She traded her humanity for power."  Dru let the next blow slide down her blade to the quillions, then twisted her sword to trap it. "I guess it's almost a position," she said, as she yanked the blade from Shesara's hand, then laid her own against the bard's throat. "He said there has always been a Swamp Hag, and there always will be."

Shesara sagged.  "I don't think I'm ever going to get the hang of this."  Wearily, she picked up the cutlass once again.  "I should probably just stay in the back and sing."

"Nonsense.  You're not doing _that_ badly.  Remember that you've got decades of experience on any roundear you're going to meet on this island."  Dru chuckled as she sheathed her blade.  "It's a good thing you weren't trained the way I was, though.  You'd have a lot more scars."

The blonde elf's gaze fell to the ragged sleeves of Dru's shirt, and the network of white lines on the skin beneath.  "Who trained you?"

"Papa did.  He was afraid the first time I was wounded, I'd be so in shock from the pain that I wouldn't be able to defend myself."  Dru turned to look at the seated figure who had been present for the duel.  "What about you, Di'Fier?"

The mage looked dully up at her, as if it were an effort to even consider answering.

"How were you trained?" Dru pressed.

His reply was toneless.  "My father used padded swords." Then his gaze leveled as he sank back within himself.

Dru loked at Shesara. "The Zombi Master says that some people never recover any more than this, but the more we can make him interact with the world outside of his head, the better his chances are."  She sighed, looking at her partner.  "I know how he's feeling.  My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton when I got up, and I only got bitten by the little ones.  Come on, Di'Fier."

Obediently, the mage's body climbed to its feet and shambled after them.






Dru set the spellbook down.  Had Di'Fier's eyes followed it as it moved?  Was there a flicker of recognition?  She knew he would read it if she told him to - his intellect was intact, but his will...he would be reading it because he was told to.

"I'm going out to practice with Shesara," Dru told him.  "But I'll leave this here."  She lay his sword against the book.  "This too."  _Might as well stack the odds, right?_ "_If you want to_, you can read the book."

He looked at her as if to ask for guidance.  She ignored it.  "I'll see you in a few hours."  Then she was gone, and he was alone in the empty hut.

Slowly, his gaze shifted from the doorway to the book.  Why hadn't she told him to read it?  It was so much easier when people told you what to do - when it was time to eat, to bathe, to sleep, to read...

_If you want to..._

What did she mean, _want_?  He tried to think of _wanting_...

_A handful of coin, carefully hoarded, given over to a rough man who smelled of the sea.  A bag, packed with clothing and the necessities of travel.  A dream.

Then: rain, come too early, and an empty dock.  The laughter of the longshoreman as he said the ship had sailed three days ago.  Soaked to the skin, clutching a book like that one to his chest..._

He remembered how the pages had wrinkled from the rain, the bitter disappointment of his plans for adventure.  _Adventure?  This_ is_ an adventure..._

His hand reached towards the book.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Notes on the last update*

Perhaps a bit more fictionalized than some of my other updates - the advantage of the Story Hour over the actual game is that I can include stuff that I didn't think of at the time.  It makes Di'Fier's recovery from lost Wisdom a little more interesting.

The full story behind Di'Fier's memory will, with any luck, be posted at some point in the not-too-distant future - Di'Fier's been inspired, like Dru, to write some background stories about what happened before the campaign.



			
				Horacio said:
			
		

> *So the must kill the hag now... hmmm...*




Actually, the old shaman just said that someone must die, not specifically the swamp hag.  There was some vague (OOC) consideration of sacrificing Jim, or perhaps one of the gnomes, but Dru and Di'Fier eventually chose to do it the hard way instead. 

J


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Notes on the last update*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Actually, the old shaman just said that someone must die, not specifically the swamp hag.  There was some vague (OOC) consideration of sacrificing Jim, or perhaps one of the gnomes, but Dru and Di'Fier eventually chose to do it the hard way instead.
> 
> J *




They are heroes after all


----------



## Tellerve

*dusts off hands*  Ok, finally done with this story so far and I have to agree with everyone about the story's greatness.  Indeed, I've found myself reading it most of my off hours for the last days.  Some very interesting things of late that I'll have to snag for my own campaign.

Is that dream sequence part of the original adventure or something you made up?

Tellerve


----------



## drnuncheon

Tellerve said:
			
		

> *Is that dream sequence part of the original adventure or something you made up?*




Uhm...which dream sequence?  If you mean their adventure in the spirit world, that was all me (inspired by Green Ronin's excellent Shaman book, and the spells that let you fight diseases, spells, and curses as monsters in the spirit world), but it was no dream sequence.

Let me see if I can remember the changes I've made that have shown up so far:

* Adding the City of the Gods and the wizard from the mainland
* Linking the pirates/raiders and the dragon (at least in the minds of the Tanaroans)
* Adding the Swamp Hag and the mythology surrounding her
* Eliminating the rakasta and the phanaton (although old-time gamers may recognize what I replaced them with)
* Adding the Ghoul Lord (added as an explanation for the ghouls on the wandering monster charts)
* And, of course, shipwrecking the PCs there instead of sending them off with a mysterious map and a hope for adventure.

There are more changes later on, too.  What can I say? About the only published stuff I didn't hack apart was the original Freeport trilogy.   For a closer look at the original Isle of Dread, Horacio has linked Lazybones' Story Hour a page or so back.  His is pretty close, while mine is more like a 'Return to the Isle of Dread'...

And for a potentially amusing look behind the scenes...I had originally intended for Our Heros to escape by means of a _teleport_ spell, which Di'Fier doesn't have, yet.  Unfortunately, I forgot that Di'Fier's levels in Spellsword only give him a caster level boost every _other_ level, leading to a conversation that went sort of like this.

DF: "Well, that wizard knew _teleport_.  Of course, even if we found his spellbook I wouldn't be able to cast it for another 3 levels..."

Me: "What?!"

DF (continuing): "...and I hope we're not going to be here for that long..."

Me: "I mean, ah, don't worry.  You'll get off the island before then." (hurriedly scribbles in his notes)

J
How'd they do it? You'll just have to wait and see...


----------



## DiFier

you made the raiders, shipwrecked vikings rather than native islanders.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eighteen, Part One: Return to Tanaroa*

"Look! There they are!" The excited voice of the halfling piped across the hut, and the small knot of castaways gathered at the entrance behind him, the gnomes pushing their way to the front.

"They look like hell," observed Geirstein.

Fonkin peered towards the approaching quartet, now largely obscured by Tanaroans.  "Why are they all lumpy? And what are they carrying with them?"

Jim scampered down the ladder. "Let's go see!"  He dashed across the uneven ground, squirming into the middle of the crowd.  "You were gone for a long time! Why are you covered with big lumps and carrying..." he faltered as he stared at the object. "...a giant honeycomb?"

"Believe it or not, the answers are related," said Dru dryly.






"...and so, between Di'Fier's spell and the smoke Shesara made from burning weeds, we were able to drive off the rest of the bugs."

"Amazing," breathed Jim.  "I always wanted a life of adventure at sea, but I never thought it would be like _this_...I want to go _with_ you next time!"

Dru and Di'Fier exchanged glances.  "That...might not be such a good idea, Jim," the mage said gently.  "It's very dangerous."

"I don't care! So is living in Freeport!"

Dru raised an eyebrow. "He's got a point, Di'Fier."

"We'd better tell them all what we're up against."  Di'Fier turned to the rest of the group.  "Apparently when we were in the jungle, we ate some food that was...taboo."  _No point in horrifying them any more than necessary,_ he thought.

"Don't beat around the bush, Di'Fier," Dru shot at him.  She moved to stand by the fire. "The meat the swamp hag fed us wasn't meat.  It was people."  Trampling over the expressions of shock, she continued. "Eating people caused a hunter to go insane, to become some kind of weird undead, and it almost happened to Di'Fier too."

"We met a person from the tribe of...of the person we ate," said Di'Fier.  "He told us that to repay the death of his clansmen, someone would have to die."

"We made the mutual decision that it would be the swamp hag."

One of the mercenaries looked at his companions.  "I'm not sure I relish the idea of fighting a ten foot tall green woman..."

Dru held up a hand.  "Nobody has to come.  We'll take care of this ourselves if we have to."

Jim bounced to his feet, one hand on his dagger. "I'm coming with you!"






"Mnembe," Dru began as they waited to see the Matriarch.  "The Zombi master of Burowao told us that there was always a swamp hag, and there always would be. What happens if she dies?"

Mnembe nodded. "It is a good question.  It is said that someone will dream of becoming the Swamp Hag, and that they will vanish from their village and go to take her place."  He looked up.  "J'kal will see us now."

They approached the Matriarch's throne.

"Matriarch J'kal," Dru began, with Mnembe translating.  "It is said that you tricked the swamp hag out of the amulet that you wear.  The swamp hag tricked us, and we must confront her. We would like to know your story."

The thin woman scowled, the lines on her face turning downward. She spoke rapidly, and Mnembe translated. "She says that the story is unimportant."

"Even if she thinks it is, "Di'Fier started, "There might be something useful..." He broke off as J'kal began to talk again.

"Matriarch J'kal says that she is grateful for what you have done for the vilage, and that there is much more good that you could do here.  She says that surely you have been sent by the gods to save us from the worshipers of the dragon god.  She asks me to tell you that the dragon god is half as long as a longhouse..."

Dru looked over at her partner and muttered: "Do you get the impression that she doesn't want us to go after the swamp hag?"

Di'Fier slowly nodded his agreement.


----------



## Horacio

hehe, new update and new quest for our heros


----------



## Jon Potter

*HIJACK!!*

_Just cleaning up my clutter._


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eighteen, Part Two: A Social Visit*

Dru cursed as the soft muck beneath her foot gave way, plunging her leg thigh-deep into the water of the mire.  It sucked desperately at her boot as she worked it free.  "I think we're running out of path," she observed sourly, swatting at an oversized mosquito.

Benares moved to the front of the shallows. "I'll probe ahead with my staff.  Maybe we can find firmer ground."

As he busied himself, Dru turned to look at Jim.  The halfling gave her a grin, even soaked as he was to the waist from the water of the mire.  Behind him, two of the mercenaries struggled through the muddy water: Geirstein and Fatima.

Di'Fier followed her gaze.  "Jim, it looks like the water's going to get deeper.  Will you be all right?"

"Oh, I can swim!" he hastened to reassure them.  "The bigger boys used to throw me into the harbor and tell me the sharks were going to eat me."

"It looks as though you'll have to," said Benares, returning.  "I've found some more solid ground, but it's about waist deep for me."

Di'Fier held out a length of rope.  "Tie this to yourself, Jim.  That way if something happens we can pull you out of the way."

_Great,_ Dru thought.  _Trolling for crocodiles._  She swatted another mosquito.  _Probably giant crocodiles._  She reached over her shoulder to check the borrowed bow she carried, and hoped that the swamp's wetness hadn't gotten to it.







"Look! There's her hut."

"Are you sure?"

"Who else is going to live out here?"

"Look, she's got a boat."

"I could swim out and steal it!"

"No, Jim, I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't like it.  We're not going to be able to fight effectively."

"So should we pay her a social visit?"

"I don't think I like her idea of refreshments.  By the way, that log has eyes."

"Fatima? Are you all right? You look pale."

"Just... a little tired."

Dru splashed over to the other woman, bending and heaving her out of the water.  There, attached to her thigh, was a black squirming shape the size of Dru's forearm.  "Leeches!  Everyone check yourselves!" She propped the woman against a tree and pulled her blade, slashing deep into the leech.  Squirming, it fell away from the mercenary, leaving a bloody trail in the water.

"They're all over the place!"

"Look out!"  The shout came too late, as a pair of logs floating placidly in the mire sprouted eyes - eyes and a gaping maw of sharp teeth.  Powerful tails launched the crocodiles along the surface towards them - one barelling into Shesara, its jaws crashing down on her body.

Di'Fier's voice cracked as he shouted the words of the invocation.  He could feel dark power flooding through him as the tendrils of magic sought their target.  Questing in a direction he could not sense or move in, they curled around his desire and drew it here.  Dimly he could feel pain, but he wrenched himself away from the clasping jaws, focing himself to focus.

The stink of brimstone was added to the swamp's stench, and the water hissed and boiled as a creature arose: a twin to the two attacking them, except for the smoky fire that burned in its eyes.  Without hesitation, it launched itself at the creature threatening its master.

In an eyeblink, Shesara was underwater - no time to catch a breath, her captor twisting and writhing to force her beneath the surface.  She felt the blood pouring from her body as she struggled to free the cutlass from its sheath.  Her fingertips touched it, were jerked away by the thrashing of the crocodile.  She twisted, fighting the pain, and felt the hilt slip into her palm.  Jerking it free, she stabbed, feeling the point slide off of the scales again and again.

And then, the creature convulsed, biting harder - but its motions stilled.  Dimly she could feel a hand prying the teeth out of her, hauling her to the surface, spewing foul water from her mouth.  She looked up through the hair plastered across her face to see the hardened face of Dru.

Di'Fier's voice came across the swamp.  "That croc's casting a spell!"  Light flared from his hands, and orbs of force arced towards the creature.

Dru could feel something clutching at her feet.  Swearing, she pulled away, only to see viny tendrils reaching from the trees.   She hacked with her blade, but to no avail - they twined around her arms, growing on her, impossibly fast, as if she were a living trellis.

Di'Fier fought the tendrils that grasped at him, calling another spell to mind.  As if it could read his thoughts, the spellcasting crocodile twisted its body around, heading for the deeper water.  _Oh no, you don't,_ he thought, unleashing the magic.  A green bolt of vitriol slammed into the creature, eating into its side as it vanished beneath the surface.

Near him, Benares pummeled the last crocodile ruthlessly with his staff, the stout wood bending visibly under the force of his blows. It snapped at him, but each time he was somewhere else, even fighting the resistance of the water.  He could feel the ensorcelled plants questing for him, clutching at him, but each time he moved clear...for now.

A water weed wrapped itself around his leg, and he stumbled.  That was all the opening the crocodile needed.  Moving with a speed that seemed impossible for a creature so large, it fastened its toothy maw upon him - and then expired.

Di'Fier pulled his blade free of the scaled beast, fighting the plants that entangled him, and looked around.  A moment of peace?  A cursing Dru was fighting her way to the edge of the spell, where she could move.  Jim and the mercenaries had taken to the trees, but even the nimble halfling was now enshrouded by branches that held him fast.  Shesara and Benares were bleeding...so was he for that matter.

"Mister Di'Fier?" Jim's voice came.  "There's more of them coming, and they're as big as a house!"


----------



## DiFier

I remember this fight it sucked.  I spent alot of this fight trapped by vines.  Blah.  tho I think I could still cast spells while trapped, I don't remember that well.


----------



## Zarthon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *I remember this fight it sucked.  I spent alot of this fight trapped by vines.  Blah.  tho I think I could still cast spells while trapped, I don't remember that well. *




Hmm lets see, waist deep in water an entanglement spell and giant crocs!!!

As a DM I love it, as a player I cringe in fear


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

But didn't we have crocodile steaks when it was all over?  I can't remember.


----------



## Horacio

I like jungle/island environments...


----------



## DiFier

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *But didn't we have crocodile steaks when it was all over?  I can't remember. *




yeah and swamp hag steaks. . .  Doh, oh wait that's what got us in trouble in the first place.   Geeze now we gotta go back into the spirit world and . . . oh man I think I'm gonna hurl.  

This whole island has been one near death experience after another.  as the sessions go on we get closer and closer to 0 HP at the end of the battles.  finally we rocketed past that point with a vengence.  I am so glad to be off of the isle of dread.  it was fun don't get me wrong.  but it is nice to have an armor class again.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

And stuff.  Don't forget that.  I like having stuff.


----------



## DiFier

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *And stuff.  Don't forget that.  I like having stuff. *




Well yeah stuff gets you AC.


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *But didn't we have crocodile steaks when it was all over?  I can't remember.
> *




Not from the giant crocs - they were from a _summon nature's ally_ topped off with an _animal growth_, so they vanished at the end of the spell.

I do believe you had steaks from something else, but since you haven't killed that in the Story Hour yet I won't say more.



			
				DiFier said:
			
		

> *
> This whole island has been one near death experience after another.  as the sessions go on we get closer and closer to 0 HP at the end of the battles.  finally we rocketed past that point with a vengence.  I am so glad to be off of the isle of dread.  it was fun don't get me wrong.  but it is nice to have an armor class again. *




Actually, the island taught you both a valuable lesson about planning and preparing - which everyone will see in some upcoming updates.  As long as you don't forget those lessons now that you don't have limited resources, you should be OK. 

Wait...what's that...is it time for another update?  Why yes, yes it is.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eighteen, Part Three: ...with gently smiling jaws.*

Dru's head snapped up at the sound of Jim's voice.  She reached over her shoulder, pulling her crude borrowed bow from its leather bag, bending it and stringing it in one easy motion.  An arrow met the string, was drawn back to her cheek as she sighted along it. She searched for the ripples.

Then, the arrow was loosed - and before it had struck its target another followed the path it carved through the air, both sinking unerringly into the giant crocodile's flesh.

Di'Fier saw one of the beasts thrash in pain and rage as the wooden shafts bit deep. He glanced behind him.  Fatima had climbed into the tree, but Benares was still trying to rip his way free of the writhing creepers and marsh plants, and Shesara was faring little better.  He tugged at his own bonds, but they held fast.  _All right,_ he thought. _Maybe they deserve a taste of this as well!_

He forced his hand down to his belt, searched the sodden pouch, and withdrew a tiny wisp of some unidentifiable substance.  Speaking the world that would trigger his spell, he flicked it with his fingers - hardly a good throw, but the magic caught it on an intangible wind, and the bit of spiderweb twisted like a snake, darting through the air towards the crocodiles.

Near-invisible strands were flung off from the wisp, glinting in the remaining light.  More followed them, crawling along the paths forged by their predecessors, and like a living, growing thing, the web expanded to a steel-hard sheet, half in, half out of the water.  It coccooned the reptiles as they struggled within its silken bonds, and Di'Fier breathed a sigh of relief.

Behind him, Shesara slipped an arm free of the plants, tearing at the others that held her even as she forged her way through the waist-deep water towards Dru.  Another pair of arrows arced over her heads, and at least one struck home from the sounds of their impact.

Di'Fier and Benares had little time to rest, however.  The strands of the web were beginning to part where the creatures thrashed and rolled, the spidersilk no match for their sheer mass.  The humans struggled similarly with their ampelidious bonds, but to far less effect.

The last strands of web parted and the crocodiles resumed their forward movement, toothy grins splitting into enormous maws with gleeful savagery.  Di'Fier forced his hand down to his pouch, searching..._A _magic missile_ won't stop them..._ he thought, as his fingers encountered a grainy substance.  _Sand? I hope this works..._ With another word of power, he flung the sand towards the oncoming creatures, watching it burst into a dazzling polychromatic array, flickering and twisting like an unearthly flame.  The lead crocodile was so close he could see its pupil dilate as the colors washed over it, and the thrashing of its mighty tail stopped abruptly.  The mage watched with satisfaction as the creepers began to grow over his stunned foes.

"That won't hold them for long, Benares, we've got to get out of here!"

"If these bonds were only of the mind," grunted the scholar, "then my deity's blessing would aid us.  As it is, brute force seems to be the only solution, lacing though it is."  As he spoke, more arrows whistled down - Shesara's bow joining Dru's in the thrumming chorus of stone-tipped wooden rain.

Di'Fier dug in his pouch. "Maybe I can use an _acid arrow_ to burn my way out." He grasped the dart and called the spell to mind, focusing on the vines that held him.  His mouth opened to speak the incantation -

- and the swamp exploded with twenty tons of reptilian fury, as the crocodiles recovered from the effects of his spell.  A mighty tail slammed into Benares' chest, snapping the fragile bonds that held him, and sending him arcing through the air to slam into a tree.

Di'Fier twisted his hand desperately, calling out the words of his spell, but knowing it could not stop the onrushing beast.  The emerald bolt launched itself down the creature's throat, and then the jaws crashed down on him.

Shesara nocked an arrow, but a voice behind her gave her pause.  "Now, dearie...mustn't hurt the little darlings."  She turned to see the enormous form of the Swamp Hag, birthed soundlessly from the bole of a tree.  The Hag smiled, and her pointed teeth caught the dying light.

The bard raised her bow, but her arm was seized in a hand the size of her head. "Put your toys away," the Hag grated, tossing her to the ground.  The place the hag had touched was blackened, and it stank of rot. As Shesara watched in horror, tiny white forms began to writhe, eating away the flesh as they grew at an impossible rate.

"And now the last..." the Hag muttered, turning towards Dru.


----------



## Horacio

Evil cliffhanger!!!!

I NEED to know more!


----------



## Jon Potter

What Horacio said!

Very nicely done. And written.

Now my guess is Blighter (from MotW) for the Swamp Hag, but I'm probably wrong. Since you mentioned using the GR Shaman book (which I don't have) she's likely based from that work.

Whatever the case: Summon Nature's Ally + Animal Growth = low cost PC-mincing brilliance!

My hat's off to you.


----------



## DiFier

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> Actually, the island taught you both a valuable lesson about planning and preparing - which everyone will see in some upcoming updates.  As long as you don't forget those lessons now that you don't have limited resources, you should be OK.
> *




what lesson was that?


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Now my guess is Blighter (from MotW) for the Swamp Hag, but I'm probably wrong. Since you mentioned using the GR Shaman book (which I don't have) she's likely based from that work.*




Actually, the Swamp Hag is, of all things, a Swamp Hag, (from one of the S&SS Creature Collections, I forget which), with some added druid levels.  The rather appalling maggot effect is the spell _infestation of maggots_ from Magic of Faerun.

Some Shamans from the GR book do show up, though - Burowao's Zombi Master is one, and another less pleasant fellow later on.

I felt almost guilty about the SNA+AG combo, especially when I saw the stats, but my players pulled through. (How? Find out tomorrow.)

J


----------



## Jon Potter

DiFier said:
			
		

> *
> 
> what lesson was that?   *




Well, for starters there's the old adage: never get lured to a mysterious meteting place mentioned in an anonymous letter without suitable back-up.


----------



## DiFier

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Well, for starters there's the old adage: never get lured to a mysterious meteting place mentioned in an anonymous letter without suitable back-up.   *




Ah yeah that.  We actually didn't play that part.  we started playing when we woke up in the belly of the ship.  The fight in the bar was a combination of stories from Dru, Dr. N and Me.  We didn't have a choice.  (I think Dr. N was afraid that we would somehow win and then he'd have to think of another way to get us on the ship.)  We also got to choose what item that we had on our person we would get to keep.  that wasn't too hard for me but Dr. N ignored Dru's pick and made it her sword.  She was very glad he did.   I had tried to convince Dr. N to let me keep the glove of storing and the bastard sword within it.  but he wouldn't have it.  (I didn't try very hard tho).


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Eighteen, Part Four: There will always be a Swamp Hag...*

The feeling of water on his face brought Benares back to consciousness.  He could feel cracked ribs griding against each other as he struggled to the surface, spitting blood and swamp muck. Already the tendrils were reaching for him again - and one of the emormous crocodiles was slowly turning its body, the menacing snout searching for him.

He forced himself to ignore the pain that tore through his side, pulling himself out of the water into the low branches of the tree he'd impacted, climbing as high as he could before the plant entangled him.  Below, the crocodile tried to focus on him, bumped the tree experimentally with its jaw.

He gritted his teeth, reaching over his shoulder to free the bow he carried, setting an arrow to the string.  The tree shuddered as the crocodile's tail pounded it, and Benares let the plants hold him steady as he aimed - not at the crocodile threatening him, but at its companion.  

The arrow flew.

Di'Fier kicked at the crocodile, feeling its teeth shredding the meat from his leg.  He couldn't bring his sword to bear as it tossed him like a chew toy, and what was left of his boots didn't seem to be making an impression on it either.

He felt the great beast shudder, its jaws loosen a fraction of an inch, and he kicked again.  Great furrows tore down his leg, and the water around him swirled with dark blood - but he was free.  Shoving off with his good leg, he stabbed his sword into the trunk of a tree, and then seized a branch, pulling himself upward - just inches ahead of the creature's jaws!

The blood did not drip from his leg so much as pour from it, in a thin but steady stream.  He forced himself to concentrate, to hold on.  And then a scream drew his attention to Dru and Shesara.

Geirstein had fought his way out of the entangling plants, but now he floated, unconscious or dead, his crude spear still clutched in one hand, his throat ripped open by the Hag's sharp teeth.  Shesara clutched her sword in one hand, her other held tightly across her body where a bloodstain spread.  She stumbled as she fought.  And Dru, blood-soaked but still fighting, despite the chunks of flesh ripped from her by the Swamp Hag's claws.

He licked his lips, called one of his few remaining spells to mind.

Dru parried a swipe from the hag, her blade turning aside from the creature's hardened skin and barely keeping the claws from her face.  The sheer force of the blow drove her back a step.  She could feel a tree at her back, and knew she could retreat no further.  The Hag advanced, a gleeful expression on her bloated face.

Then golden light arced across the swamp, twisting through the trees but striking inexorably at the green woman hitting her again and again.  She began to snarl the words of a spell, and Dru shoved herself off from the tree, her rapier before her, plunging deep into the giant woman's thigh.  She twisted, and was rewarded with a gout of blood. _Maybe that will even the odds,_ Dru thought, as the Hag's scream sent her spell into oblivion.

The tails of the giant crocodiles slammed into the trees, splintering wood beneath their hammerlike blows.  It wouldn't survive much more of this, Di'Fier knew, and he reached down to yank his blade free. _It's bleeding,_ he thought to himself.  _If I jump down on it, I might be able to kill it...then the others can get away._ His head swam, his vision blurred.  The tree shook again, and he prepared to leap, as the tail swung again.

But the blow never came.

Di'Fier forced his eyes to focus.  _Are they...?_

"Mister Di'Fier!" Jim exclaimed.  "Them crocodiles just vanished!"

"Spell..." he muttered, but his mouth was too dry to make it audible.  He looked towards the battle at the edge of the swamp, knowing he could never make it through the _entangle_ to help his friend and partner.

Shesara lunged clumsily, her blade opening a cut on the Hag's calf, and then shuffled to the right.  The Hag turned her malevolent gaze on the blonde elf, and Shesara licked her lips, bringing the sword up in a desperate defense. In all of the songs and tales, the heros had witty things to say at times like these, but her thoughts deserted her.

And then Dru moved.

Leaping upward in a spray of fetid water, she seized the thick ropy hair of the hag, pulling herself upward as she drove her blade home, under the ribs.  The rapier twisted, and Dru dropped from the back of the Hag, dodging backwards to avoid the corpse as it crumpled to the water. Then, she sank to one knee.

"Dru!" Shesara cried, but the other elf waved her away. 

"Geirstein first...if he lives.  I'll survive."






"Are you sure it's safe to stay here?"

"We're in no shape to go anywhere else, Geirstein," Dru said, poking up the fire. _At least the Hag had plenty of firewood. I don't think any of us are in a shape to collect it._

"Tomorrow I'll be able to heal us all some more," Shesara added. "We should be able to make it out of the swamp."

"I was just thinking about what you said," the half-elven mercenary continued. "That the Zombi Master told you there will always be a swamp hag.  You don't think its whoever kills her gets to become the next one, do you?"

Dru shook her head. "I doubt it.  I don't feel any different.  Besides, Papa would be very upset if I became ten feet tall and green."

"Miss Dru, look what I've found!" The halfling held out a box.  Huge in his hands, it must have been tiny to the hag, made of delicately carved wood.  "Treasure!" His eyes glowed with the possibility.

Di'Fier coughed. "Maybe we should leave that alone for now, Jim.  It might have a trap on it." Seeing that the halfling was not discouraged, he added, "Or a curse."

Jim set the box down carefully and backed silently away.

"We'll look it over tomorrow, in the light."






"Well, I don't _see_ any sign of a trap," Dru said. "I'm going to open it.  Everyone else is out of the way?"

"Yes," Di'Fier nodded.  He muttered the words to a protective charm under his breath, though, just in case.

"Here goes."  Dru flipped back the lid, held her breath.  Nothing happened.

Inside the velvet-lined box was a small pouch, and a curious scepter-like item, its end covered with silver studs.  They had just enough time to wonder what exactly it was before the box exploded in flames.






Dru scowled as Shesara worked with the knife.

"_I_ think it suits you, Dru," the other elf said, letting another scorched bit of hair fall to the ground.  "You look good with short hair."

"I wouldn't _know_ if long hair suited me," Dru growled. "Every time I try to grow it, it gets burned off.  I think I'm just going to get a wig.  Di'Fier, stop snickering and tell me what we found."

"Well," the mage said. "The Hag's pearl pendant is magical, but I'm not certain what it does.  And this," he tapped the rod, "is definitely a source of strong evocation magic, but past that I'm not certain."  He hefted it. "It does seem like it'd make a nice bludgeon, though." Reversing it, he offered it to Shesara. "Why don't you hang onto it for now? It's got to be better than that cutlass you've been using."






Four days later, the seven weary travelers returned to Tanaroa. Namfoodle met them at the giant gate, fingers lacing and unlacing worriedly. "Praise be! You are all alive!" he said. "The entire village is in an uproar.  Mnembe tells us that Matriarch J'kal has vanished!"

Dru and Di'Fier exchanged looks, and the elf sighed.  "I'll bet I know where she is."

"When did she vanish?" Di'Fier asked.

"Four days ago."

"Then she won't be coming back."


----------



## Jon Potter

DiFier said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Ah yeah that.  We actually didn't play that part.  we started playing when we woke up in the belly of the ship. *





Ahhh... a little DM ex machina, eh? that explains why you were both captured rather than the two of you making bloody mincemeat out of the opposition like you usually do.


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Ahhh... a little DM ex machina, eh? that explains why you were both captured rather than the two of you making bloody mincemeat out of the opposition like you usually do.  *




Yeah, I basically asked them to go along with it.  I _could_ have just thrown opposition at them that was big and nasty enough to take them down, but I figured that would only lead to irritation and frustration (and me sleeping on the couch!), so saying "Look, here's what I want to do" seemed the better option.

After the initial panicked reaction calmed down they took it like troopers, and only complained once a session or so.  And what did they get for it? Well, I don't want to give too much away, but let's just say they more than made up for what they lost.

J


----------



## DiFier

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> And what did they get for it? Well, I don't want to give too much away, but let's just say they more than made up for what they lost.
> *




like the kool-aid man says "oh yeah!"



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> I felt almost guilty about the SNA+AG combo, especially when I saw the stats, but my players pulled through. (How? Find out tomorrow.)
> *




how boring we just out lasted them.  Thank god nature's allies don't last long.  They were very hungery crocs and they each had like 140 hp.


----------



## Horacio

Great update, great hag killing 

So soon back to civilised lands? Back to Freeport?


----------



## drnuncheon

Horacio said:
			
		

> *So soon back to civilised lands? Back to Freeport? *




Oh, there's plenty more island to go! There's a curse to be removed, raiders to be fought off, a dragon-god to be dealt with, and then of course the mysterious City of the Gods - who knows what awaits Our Heros there?

J


----------



## Horacio

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Oh, there's plenty more island to go! There's a curse to be removed, raiders to be fought off, a dragon-god to be dealt with, and then of course the mysterious City of the Gods - who knows what awaits Our Heros there?
> 
> J *




Odd Freeport Story Hour out of Freeport 

But I still love it


----------



## DiFier

I've been under the impression that we are actually no longer in book 2 but are actually in book 3 (on the story hour and are playing book 4 right now)  

The books would be:

Book one: Brotherhood (stays the same)
Book two: reconsilation (ends after the death of Soderheim)
Book three: excile (the island)
Book four: Inherietance (after the island)


As for what the whole series should be called.  I'm not sure.  but yeah we're not spending a whole lot of time in freeport lately.  

I'm not sure what Dr. N wants to reveal but we did level last night.  woo hoo.  so we are 12th level.  I raised Di'Fier in spell sword and Dru got the prestige class she has been working on for levels.  I'll let her or Dr. N tell you about it.


----------



## DiFier

Oh yeah and I'm working on Dif'er back story i will be posting them in a bit.  tho I will not subject you to the non spell checked version that I have here at home (the spell checked one is at work)


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *I've been under the impression that we are actually no longer in book 2 but are actually in book 3 (on the story hour and are playing book 4 right now)*




I prefer to think of it as like the JK Rowlings or George RR Martin books...each one gets longer than the one before it.

(Hopefully it's not Jordanitis, but I think I keep the plot moving.)




			
				DiFier said:
			
		

> *Odd Freeport Story Hour out of Freeport *




And really, being back in Freeport after the island didn't last long, as an urgent message sent our heros racing to the mainland to deal with missing persons, ghosts, hunchbacked dwarves, glowing spectral shapes, and the consequences of a bargain...

J
not that I tease


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Nineteen, Part One: The Shaman's Gift*

"This is the place...just like we saw in the spirit world," Di'Fier said.

"It's about time." Dru rubbed the fang she'd taken from one of the tigers that had assaulted them - yet another example of the island's overgrown and underfriendly fauna. "I feel like we've been hacking our way through this jungle for weeks."

"What now? I don't see any monkey people..." Shesara laid one hand on the trunk of a massive tree, staring up into the tangled net of branches and creepers that obscured everything above them.

"Well, the shaman's hut was up," mused Di'Fier. "But none of us can fly, so I suppose we make camp and wait here until somebody notices us."







_That's strange,_ thought Spruce.  _I _know_ I didn't leave a lamp burning in the file room._  Just to be sure, he checked - yes, the one in his hand was the same one he'd had in there earlier. _I wonder if someone's working late?  Or maybe..._

The little file clerk crept forward. _Maybe someone's snuck in..._ he thought to himself.  His hand reached out to touch the door.  Even at this hour, a shout from him would bring a dozen Watchmen running from all over the building.  But he had to know, first.

He pushed the door open.

For an instant he saw the shape: squat and powerful, holding a file in one thick fingered hand.  The light that he had seen under the door played from a stone held in the other - a light that was quickly snuffed, leaving a red glow through clenched fingers, and then nothing.

Before the file hit the desk, the figure was gone.

Spruce stood in the doorway, his words frozen in his throat.  There was no sign of the intruder anymore - only the files he'd left on the table. _It's too late to catch him, but Captain Donnach will want to know,_ the records clerk thought wildly.  Still unable to summon a sound, he turned and fled.

Behind him, a shape detached itself from the shadows. "Careless," it growled to itself, drawing the glimmering stone from under its cloak and reopening the file.

By the time Spruce returned, the room was again empty.






Grey mists surrounded grey trees rising from a grey landscape.  Grey vines hung around them, and grey bushes knotted across the land. The cords that trailed away from them were silver-grey, and the only spot of color was the faint green of the thread that connected Dru to the Jade Serpent of Yig.

"This looks familiar," Dru commented dryly.  "I suppose now, we go up."

They rose into the trees, and found the shaman waiting for them.  He sat before a bowl of smoking incense, the orange-red fur bright in the midst of the colorless world around him.

"We have done as you asked," Di'Fier said, hesitantly. "The Swamp Hag is dead."

"The Swamp Hag is dead, the Swamp Hag lives. It is good. The spirits are appeased."  The muzzled face split into a grin, and long-fingered hands reached forward. "Show me what has slain her."

Dru unbuckled her swordbelt, slowly, and at a gesture from the creature, Di'Fier shrugged his off as well.  

The shaman took one in each hand, setting them carefully across his lap.  He lifted the rapier carefully, inspecting it, holding it just inches away from his eyes.  His nostrils flared as he sniffed it.

Di'Fier's blade was next, and given no less attention.  Finally, the shaman set it down as well. "These are good," he stated. "The spirits have spoken.  They will awaken these blades."

With those words, he lifted the war-sword and placed it in midair, where it hung, drifting slowly.  The rapier followed it, both floating above the incense burner. A few more grains of the scent fell onto the coal from long, dark fingers, and a deep hum - almost a growl - came from the shaman's throat.

Di'Fier blinked.  He had been staring at the blade for...he didn't know how long.  Even so, the change that had come over it was subtle, so subtle he couldn't decide when it had happened.  No longer was his sword only shades of grey, like everything else in this strange world.  Color had crept into it: the sweat-stained leather that wrapped the hilt had become its familiar deep brown, and the bronze fittings shone golden.

Looking to Dru's sword, he saw it was the same: the polished steel of the swept hilt reflected the thin green line that stretched from Dru into infinity.

He reached out, and the hilt settled into his hand.






"Captain, he was _right here_."

Donnach laid a hand on Spruce's shoulder.  "You've been working hard lately, Spruce.  Maybe you should take some time off."

"A dwarf! Captain, there was a dwarf, and he was reading files, and he had no hair, and the side of his face, it was all scarred up!" Spruce looked frantically over the room, as if the dwarf in question was just waiting to be found.

"Which files was he reading, Spruce?"

The little clerk looked over the table.  "These ones...they're out of place."  Moving the lamp closer, he looked at them. "Captain, they're - they're Dru and Di'Fier's."

Donnach sighed.  _Looks like Spruce is creating conspiracies again._ "Spruce...I know you're worried about them, too," he said gently. "But there's nothing we can do right now.  Even the Wizard's Guild can't find them.  If this mysterious dwarf can, then let him."






"Gods...what happened here? Hey! You!  Where is Mnembe?  Can you bring us Mnembe?" Dru scowled as the Tanaroan opened fearful eyes and moved away from them.  "Why is he acting like that?"

Di'Fier surveyed the village.  Something had happened while they were gone.  Something terrible.  He could see it in the eyes of the Tanaroans.  "The Zombi Master of Burowao said that it was ill luck to speak the names of the dead."

"Then I guess we'd better find the people from the ship. Maybe one of them will know what's going on."

_*Compiler's Note:* This occasion marks the first major change from campaign to Story Hour. In the campaign, there was actually a lot more with the shaman's people, including the introduction of an NPC who I sadly tended to forget about all the time and a fight with a triceratops.

Anyway, since it didn't really lead anywhere or provide any useful information (and since I was having a tough time writing it), I decided to just leave out the whole mess so that it didn't slow down the pacing, replacing it with the spirit world scene you just read.[/b]_


----------



## Jon Potter

Sooo... the 'dynamic duo' now have intelligent swords? Is that what I'm getting from the shaman's words? Or are they just magical? Or something else entirely.


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Sooo... the 'dynamic duo' now have intelligent swords? Is that what I'm getting from the shaman's words? Or are they just magical? Or something else entirely. *




Heh, I thought about that being a bit confusing, after I posted.  Actually, the swords are "awakened" to the spirit world, giving them a stronger existence there - which sounds very cool and in game terms boils down to having the _ghost touch_ ability.

There has been one intelligent item in the game so far (but not yet in the SH), a fact which will probably surprise the players when they read this.

J


----------



## DiFier

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Sooo... the 'dynamic duo' now have intelligent swords? Is that what I'm getting from the shaman's words? Or are they just magical? Or something else entirely. *




ghost touch


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Intelligent item?  Doh!  I knew that we shouldn't have sold the magical captain's chest!


----------



## DiFier

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> There has been one intelligent item in the game so far (but not yet in the SH), a fact which will probably surprise the players when they read this.
> J *




I think it is the dagger 



			
				Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *Intelligent item?  Doh!  I knew that we shouldn't have sold the magical captain's chest! *




Hahahahahahahaha.  If it had been inteligent it would have eaten the clothing.


----------



## drnuncheon

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *Intelligent item?  Doh!  I knew that we shouldn't have sold the magical captain's chest! *




I don't think you did...you were using it to transport everything around, and I'm pretty sure it never made it onto the auction block.  But I'll check.

And yeah, it's the dagger, no surprise there.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Nineteen, Part Two: The Dragon-God*

"It was the dragon, all right," Geirstein spat.  "Killed Illugi, Fatima, and a bunch of the villagers when we tried to drive it off." He shifted the stump of his leg, winced in pain. 

"Are you _sure_ it was a dragon?" asked Dru.

"Half as big as one of these houses, bat wings, breathed poison gas upon us, yeah, I'd say it was a dragon," the maimed warrior snapped.

"I wonder why it's serving those people.  The raiders," Dru mused.

"Maybe they're serving it?" Di'Fier ran the stone along the edge of his blade.  He had a feeling that it would need to be as sharp as possible if they were going to fight this beast.

"Or, indeed, if there is any connection at all,"  Benares sighed.  "Still, whether it is or not, I do not believe we have the power to drive off a dragon of that size, let alone defeat it."

"It may not be as bad as you fear," said Shesara cryptically.  Before anyone could ask what she meant, she turned to Geirstein. "Did the dragon use magic, or speak?"

The mercenary thought for a moment.  "No.  No, it didn't.  It just roared."

The bard nodded.  "And did you have any trouble standing your ground?"

A short, bitter laugh.  "I about p-ss-ed myself.  So did everyone else.  Whenever something that size comes at you, you're going to have trouble standing your ground."

"But did you break and flee?" The blonde elf leaned forward.

"No.  No, the villagers were going to fight."  Geirstein's face twisted in pain as he shifted his weight and bumped the remains of his leg.  "Hell, they had to, it was their homes."

Shesara sat back. "That would not have mattered if it was a true dragon," she said.  Looking to the others, she explained: "The _gorsgiathatch_, or dragon-fear.  It is said that when elves marched against the dragon Guleistrin, even hardened veteran warriors broke and fled when he took wing above them.  The lack of that fear, combined with its apparent lack of intelligence, makes me wonder if we face something else, instead."

"So, if it's not a dragon, what is it, then?" Dru poked violently at the fire, even though it was hardly necessary.

"Make no mistake, it may well have draconic blood," Shesara replied. "In fact, I would be surprised if it did not.  I suspect it is much the same as your enemy Ulric, a half-dragon.  It could have been sired on one of the giant lizards we've seen here.  Dragons are known for their ability to breed with almost anything..."

_Kind of like humans,_ Dru reflected.

"Well, half-dragon or whole, we're going to need a plan," said Di'Fier.  "If we cover one of the tar pits..."






"I see it! It's coming!" piped Jim's excited voice from the top of the wall.  "It's _huge_!"

"I still don't like this," Dru grumbled, as Di'Fier began to cast his spells. She looked at Shesara. "What are you going to do if it decides to eat you, rather than listen to you?"

The bard's form flared briefly with a green aura as the spell that would protect her from the creature's breath settled over her.  She smiled impishly at the other elf. "I suppose you'll have to save me, then.  Hand me your sword."

Dru gave up the blade slowly, and watched as her friend sang a soft melody above it.  The edge gleamed as she took it back, even in the shadows under the hut.

"Time to go invisible, Dru," Di'Fier told her.  "But keep back as far as you can, until you're ready to strike.  Dragons are supposed to have an excellent sense of smell."

Dru nodded, and faded from sight. "I hope this works," her disembodied voice said, and Di'Fier could tell that she was pacing.  "You're using up a lot of your spells to protect us.  What if we can't hurt it enough?"

The wizard looked over from where he was placing the same protection on Benares. "Then, ah, we run. And hope the towers on the wall will be strong enough to keep it out until it gets bored."  With a last repetition of the incantation, he warded himself from the corrosive breath of the creature, and took up his sword.  "But if we can just get it stuck in the tar, we won't have to worry..."

Outside, Shesara began to sing.






Dull thoughts lurched through a sluggish reptilian brain.  _Food._  There had been lots of food in this place, all gathered for it by the two-legs. Where were the two-legs now?  They were not gathering food.  That was not right.  They will be food, as they were before.

The low-slung body arced clumsily through the air, and the long jaws gaped, then snapped shut.  It didn't like being up here - far better to hide beneath the water and eat the food - but something in the back of its brain made it want to soar.

_More no-food!_  All the two-legs were gone from the two-legs lair.  This made it angry.  Its powerful tail twitched through the sky, itched to smash the fragile lairs.  No, there was a two-legs. It did not run. That was good.

What was it doing?  What were those noises?  Perhaps it would listen for a while before eating the two-legs, listen to the music.  Yes.






"It's landing!" cried the halfling.

"Get under cover, Jim!" Di'Fier snapped. "Your job is done!  Now _hide_!"

"But it's landing on the _wrong side!_"

Shesara's song faltered for an instant as the massive reptile settled to the ground next to her, its stubby legs pulling it through the dirt.  Then she seemed to recover, and sang all the louder.

Dru cursed. "It must have smelled the tar."

"What are we going to do?"

"Shesara can't sing forever."  Di'Fier heard the sound of a blade whispering from its sheath, and Dru's invisible voice began to recede.  "I guess we're going to have to slay a dragon."


----------



## drnuncheon

What, no comments?

I guess I'll have to leave you with a bigger cliffhanger.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Nineteen, Part Three: The Dragon-God (II)*

Dru could smell the stink of the creature from where she crouched, creeping closer.  It was acrid, a stench that penetrated the nose and made the skull ache.  Feathery streamers of dull green mist rolled from its jaws and floated above the ground, spinning in eddies as her invisible form moved past them.  _I hope it doesn't notice.  At least it doesn't look very bright._

Shesara's song continued, the liquid notes spilling out over the beast, wrapping it in a net of music.  Dru silently cursed the thing again for not landing in the tar pit like they had wanted it to.  Mired in the tar, it would have been an easy target.  Now, she had a feeling they were in trouble.

She licked her lips as she studied the massive reptile.  _Half-dragon, eh?_  The low-slung body, long jaws, and powerful tail reminded her of the giant crocodiles they had fought in the swamp - not as long, perhaps, but the arc of the slowly flexing wings made the beast seem even larger, more menacing.  _Guess the dragon was really hard up for a mate._

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Di'Fier crouched under the hut, blade in his left hand, the right ready to summon magical energy to assault the half-dragon.

She took a step.  Another.  Was that a flicker of its eye?  Did it see movement in the noxious fumes it drooled?  No time to think.  Just strike.

The monster's mouth gaped in a hoarse roat as Dru's blade plunged home.  Even before she was completely visible, she had drawn it and thrust it deep again.  She heard Benares' shout from behind her as he charged from his hiding place, staff gripped firmly in his hands.

The spell of the music broken, the creature spun with terrifying agility to confront this new opponent.  Dru could hear Shesara's song shift in timbre, becoming urgent, and martial.  She recognized an old war hymn that Jalin often hummed, and she prepared herself for the onslaught.






The dragon's mouth opened, and Di'Fier saw Dru vanish in a roiling cloud of gas.  He triggered a spell, sending four glowing bolts of mystic energy twisting into the creature's back.  Benares' blows bounced harmlessly off of the plated scales as the thing rushed forward.

The foul breath of the thing dissipated under the assault of its body and wings, and Di'Fier cried out, launching another volley of eldritch missiles. It spun, its tail sending Benares through the air to land in a heap beside the hut, and Di'Fier's words froze in his mouth.

Dru, bloody, choking and struggling, was trapped in the creature's jaws.

Di'Fier watched in sick horror as the wings began to spread.  "No!" he cried, his arcane bolts stitching a line across the creature's side - but it was not enough.

The massive wings beat once, twice, and the creature leapt into the air, Dru still clenched in its jaws.  An arrow from Benares' bow glaced from the scales, and Di'Fier sent his last prepared _magic missiles_ into the dragon's underbelly.

It circled the village once, then banked towards the ocean.


----------



## DiFier

now that's a cliff hanger


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *now that's a cliff hanger *




Well..._dragon_ hanger anyway.

J


----------



## Greg Dickens

To take a word from Mr Burns

Excellenttt!


----------



## Jon Potter

In a word: WOW!!

Very nicely done. I wondered how they'd hoped to defeat with swords a creature that could simply fly away. The tar pit idea was an excellent one. too bad it didn't work.

But still, clamped tightly in a (half) dragon's mouth? Dru's been in worse predicaments, right? 

Right?


----------



## DiFier

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *In a word: WOW!!
> 
> Very nicely done. I wondered how they'd hoped to defeat with swords a creature that could simply fly away. The tar pit idea was an excellent one. too bad it didn't work.*




Yeah that would have made things much easier.   



> *
> But still, clamped tightly in a (half) dragon's mouth? Dru's been in worse predicaments, right?
> 
> Right? *




Wait untill later on the isle of dread.


----------



## Vurt

*Classic meta-game/storyhour thinking:* But Dru can't die!  Think of the real-life repercussions of the DM killing off his wife's character! </shudder>

But seriously, great stuff as usual, Doc.  If there's one thing I've learned from your entire storyhour it's that if you leave your players dangling from a cliffhanger at the end of the game session, they usually have a lot more incentive to make it to the next one...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Nineteen, Part Four: A Bat Out of Hell*

Dru felt the dragon shudder under the repeated impact of her partner's magical assaults, and gritted her teeth to keep from screaming each time its jaw involuntarily clenched.  She could see the ground wheeling below them out of the corner of her eye.

And then, she heard the song.  Low and sweet, the elven tones somehow reaching her even over the sound of the wind rushing past her ears.  It spoke of life, and freedom, and of coming home.  Dru let it wash over her a moment, her eyes closing.  It filled her with a renewed purpose, a strength even desperation had failed to give her.  

"No way am I going to be dinner," she growled. _Even if it kills me._

She twisted her blade, wedging it between the creature's jaws like a razor-sharp prybar.

She twisted her body, its teeth shredding her clothing, tearing furrows in her skin that ran red with blood.

And somehow, impossibly, she began to slip from the jaws.

She could see the surprise in its tiny eyes as the delectable morsel started to slither away.  If it _was_ like the crocodiles, it would try for a better bite, and that meant opening its jaws...

...it was. As it soared above the jungle, the upper jaw creaked open, and then it snapped to the left, trying to catch her out of the air.  Quick as a snake, she kicked off from its jaws, flipping herself out of the way. Her stomach whirled as she spun out over the jungle - and then reached out to grasp the ridges that ran along the top of its muzzle.

All in all, she was glad the thing couldn't read minds.  Because then it would know that, as she dangled there from the dragon's snout, far above the jungle, the only thought going through her head was: _What now?_







_What now?_ thought Di'Fier wildly as he saw the tiny shape of Dru dangling from the creature's mouth. _I don't have my _forceblast_ anymore...and I can't reach it..._ A thought sprung to his head.  _I can't...but I know something that can!_

He thrust his blade into the ground, reaching for the pouch at his side. A stub of candle emerged, followed by a scrap of cloth sewn into a tiny bag. He held the image of the spell in his mind, and spoke the words that would begin it.

The candlewick flared to life, and the bag began to move.

He cast the bag into the air after the dragon, and it arced upwards, leaving the faint scent of sulphur behind it.  The bag stretched, inverted, became a tear in the very fabric of the universe.

And from beyond it, something answered his call.

Its wings were black as sin.  Its face contorted into a silent shriek of rage.  Streamers of smoke rolled from its form as it circled once, pure malice spilling off of it towards the one that dared to summon it.

"_Go!_" cried Di'Fier hoarsely. "By the words that bind you!"

Hissing at the unexpected sunlight, fighting the restraint of the spell, the enormous bat began to beat its wings, pursuing the dragon.  And below, Di'Fier, Benares and Shesara began to run into the jungle, trying desperately not to be left behind.






_Well, Dru, looks like this is it,_ the elf reflected. _I may never get to see Papa again, but I'm damn well taking this thing with me!_ She swung herself out if the way of a groping foreclaw, struggled to hold on as the jaw gaped open, then crashed down.  Her blade slid off of its scales as she thrust at it.

_I don't think I can hold on much longer..._

Then she saw the bat, coming towards them on diabolic wings. It dove on the dragon, its fangs glittering in the light, and the dragon turned its head to meet it, snapping at the air as it passed.

Dru's hand clenched tightly on the ridge that was the only thing between her and the jungle floor.  _There's no way I'm getting through this thing's armor.  I've got one chance..._ She shifted her grip on her rapier, reversing it and waited for the bat to return.

The bat swooped upward, straining for the height advantage over its opponent, and the dragon followed, its wings laboring to pull it higher into the air.  The bat's arc peaked, and it whirled in a tight circle, spiraling down towards the dragon, its mouth open in a piercing cry.

The dragon opened its jaw wide, and Dru felt herself lifted upwards as its mouth gaped.

Its soft, unprotected mouth.

Dru twisted her body, her reversed rapier held along her forearm, bringing it across her body - and then plunging it deep into the dragon's mouth.  She felt it bite deep, felt the thin bones of the palate shatter under the force of her blow, felt it scrape against the inside of the skull.

And then they were falling.






Di'Fier hacked the vines out of his way, barely slowing as he leapt over a fallen tree.  He knew there was no way he could keep up with the dragon, but he couldn't just leave Dru...

From above, he heard a shriek, its source masked by the trees.  And then a terrible crashing sound.

"What happened?" asked Shesara, breathless.

_Ampiel?_

_Dragon dead!_ came the reply.

_Dru?_

_Fell with dragon..._

"It's dead," he reported, ducking under a low branch. "But Ampiel can't see Dru."

"Then we'd best keep hurrying.  She may still be alive..." said Benares.

Minutes later, the trio emerged into a small clearing.  The cause of the clearing lay twisted and broken in the center, the massive form of the draconic creature looking almost pitiful in death. Blood pooled beneath its jaws.

"Dru?" Di'Fier cried, dashing towards it.

From behind the corpse, a weak voice answered. "...thought you'd never get here."  Dru hauled her blood-soaked form into view.  "They _say_ flying is a wonderful experience," she said. "Don't go about it that way."


----------



## Jon Potter

Vurt said:
			
		

> *Classic meta-game/storyhour thinking: But Dru can't die!  Think of the real-life repercussions of the DM killing off his wife's character! </shudder>
> *




Oh, I don't know. My wife wasn't upset when her latest character died (well, was inflicted with lycanthrope and became an NPC is more accurate). She wasn't very happy when she thought that I'd then killed her replacement character during its first session, however. Luckily, she was only 'mostly dead'. ;-)


----------



## Horacio

Dru is alive! Dru is alive!


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

We actually did _not_ go an entire week wondering if Dru was going to get eaten.  It was only a cliffhanger for the storyhour, thank umm... Yig.


----------



## DiFier

O.K. people I started posting some of Di'Fier's back story.  hopefully Dr. N will put a link to it in his sig.   

http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=41306


----------



## Horacio

DiFier said:
			
		

> *O.K. people I started posting some of Di'Fier's back story.  hopefully Dr. N will put a link to it in his sig.
> 
> http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=41306 *




Great! Going there to read it...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty: Servants of the Dragon God*

Dru looked out over the group of Tanaroans.  The day was blisteringly hot - so hot that she had stripped off her shirt, leaving only a band of cloth to hold her breasts in place.  Sweat beaded on her skin, darkened by the sun and lightened by scars - the most recent dotted in a line crossing her chest below the collarbone, a relic of the dragon's fangs.  

"All right, let's try it _again_!" she shouted.  The Tanaroans couldn't understand her, but it made her feel better. 

She snapped her spear up into a guard position, and the villagers followed suit.






"They'll never be ready in time," Dru reported to Di'Fier.  "Not if what the Zombi Master told us is right.  It'll be a massacre."

Di'Fier thought back to Burowao's Zombi Master, and the spell he had cast to look upon the enemies of the villages.  "Ten canoes," he had said, "and ten men in each."  If his spell was correct, they had sailed yesterday, and would be here in two more.  The Tanaroans outnumbered the raiders greatly, but the raiders had training, and they had steel weapons.

"I think we need an alternate plan," he said, running the coarse cloth over the length of his blade.  "If they've sent fifty men, there can't be that many left at their camp.  We could go in and free their captives while they're all gone."

Dru frowned.  "What about Tanaroa? And the other villages?"

"They won't find anything if they land at Panitube," Di'Fier mused.  "And if they sail up the coast and find Tanaroa deserted as well..."

"It may spook them," Dru nodded slowly in agreement.  "It will certainly delay them either way."  She glanced around the village.  "With all of their leaders dead or gone, this won't be easy to organize.  I hope the Council of Matriarchs makes their decision soon."

Di'Fier nodded.  "Let's go talk to Burowao's Zombi Master.  He hasn't left yet, and they should listen to him."






They left that night, on outriggers pushed silently before the wind, swinging south to avoid the current that even now carried the raiders towards the villages.

"I hope we are doing the right thing," Dru muttered as the Tanaroan warriors climbed aboard.  "I feel bad leaving them practically defenseless."

"They won't be there to be attacked," Di'Fier reminded her.  "The raiders will just find an empty village.  And they've never gone inland before.  Hopefully those curse-sticks the Zombi Master set up will frighten them off.  Even if they don't understand them, they're pretty unsettling to look at."

Dru glanced over at the other canoe, where Benares and Shesara rode in the company of more Tanaroans.  She hoped there would be enough space in the canoes to ferry the captives back.






Night of the third day at sea.  A hand shook Di'Fier awake.  "What is it?" he asked blearily.

"Land ho," muttered Dru.  "I tried to tell them to find us a beach out of sight of the pirate camp.  I _think_ they understood me."

"Good thinking," Di'Fier said.  He muttered some arcane syllables, his thumb rubbing across a piece of leather, summoning protective energy to surround him. "We can cross over the land and get an idea of the layout of the camp."

In minutes, the two canoes had been beached, and Benares and Shesara had joined them.  Dru turned to the others.  "Stay here," she said, gesturing to the ground.  "We'll be back."

They set off into the jungle, creeping through, always keeping the glimmer of moonlight on the water barely visible through the trees.  "I can see a watchtower," Shesara said.

"Looks like they have a wall of some kind.  I'm going to check it out."  Dru crept closer a bit, then returned.  "Thornbushes.  It'll take a while to get through it, but if we go around those towers will see us."

"We'll have to go through, and hope we aren't spotted," said Di'Fier.

"I believe I can handle that."  Shesara raised a hand, singing softly to herself, and the foursome slowly faded from sight.






"_Erik. The mead._"  The red-haired warrior waved a hand from where he lay in the prow of the shattered ship, underneath the dragon figurehead.  The sandy cave where the remains of the ship were stored was lit only by a couple of flickering torches.

"_You come get it. I'm comfortable._"  The blonde scratched at his beard.  "_Damn Sigmund for leaving us behind.  Just because we-what was that?_"

The redhead sat up. "_What was what?_"

His companion stared at the sand...and the bootprint that had appeared where no foot had fallen.  He opened his mouth to reply, but made no sound: instead, blood trickled forth, and he collapsed.  Behind him a figure coalesced from the darkness.

"_Alfar_!" he shouted, diving forward just as an invisible blade slammed into the seat where he lay.  He spun and swung, but his own sword was turned aside as it neared the new attacker's skin.  He struggled for a better grip on his sword, but more people kept appearing from out of the air. A quarterstaff lodged in his solar plexus, knocking him to his knees, and a slender blade ended his life.

Shouts came from outside as the guard toppled, and Dru flicked the blood from her sword with a snarl.  She began heading for the mouth of the cave, but Di'Fier's hand stopped her.  He muttered the words to a spell, and once again she faded from sight.

She crept to the front of the cave, turned.  "They're coming down from the towers," she said.  "Heading for the cave.  Looks like they're leaving people up there as well, though." Sand was swept in a circle under her invisible foot as she turned and exited the cave.

Di'Fier turned to the others. "You heard her, let's be ready for them."






"_It was a battle to sing about,_" the Tanaroan warrior told his fellow villagers. "_They are truly a gift from the gods.  They struck down those guarding the camp like lightning from a sky, and freed those that had been enslaved._"

"_It is good that the women have come back._" The voice of the Zombi Master made the villagers jump, as they turned to see his skull-tattooed face. "_And if the children are as strong as those who fathered them, then perhaps their gods will smile upon us too._"

The villagers nodded happily.  One could never have the favor of too many gods.

"_But what of the heros?_" one youngster asked.  "_Did they return to their home?_"

"_No.  They have stayed behind.  They plan to destroy the raiders when they return._"

The young man's eyes nearly started from his skull.  "_But there are only four of them, and more than ten times that many raiders! They will be slaughtered!_"

In response, the warrior looked to the dragon-skull that had been placed in front of the visitor's hut.  "_I am not so sure..._"


----------



## Horacio

A cliffhanger once more, cool


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Hello, all!  DrN asked me to make the next update, since I had the day off and he has been a little busy of late.  I know that my style is somewhat different from his, but I hope that you enjoy it all the same!  


The raven soared through the sky, high above the approaching longboats.   It was unnoticed by them.  _Four sails, boss,_ the bird thought to its wizard, who was back on shore.

Di'Fier looked up from his spell book, with a suddenness that made the others look at him sharply.  "They're coming," he said.

Instantly the four of them sprang into action.    Dru and Shesara swarmed up the side of the watchtower where the arrows and pitch were hidden.   Di'Fier began chanting, and when he was finished, Benares disappeared.  "Remember," he said to his now invisible companion, "Don't confront them.  Just steal their boats, or disable them."    He turned, and then followed Dru and Shesara up into the watchtower.

Dru had her bow ready, and was glaring out at the water.  "I wonder if the straw dummies in the other towers are going to fool them," she muttered, watching them approach. 

"Hmm," said Di'Fier, as he too watched their enemies start to get out of the boats.  "The big one doesn't seem to splash in the water when he walks."

Dru sniffed disdainfully.  "Magic of some sort, I'm sure.  There's got to be _fifty_ of them there," she added, a worried note creeping into her voice.  	

The three of them leaned down, waiting.  Di'Fier began to quietly chant, his eyes fixed on the stretch of beach not yet filled with pirates.

The pirates began to mutter amongst themselves, looking at the silent camp.  The biggest one, clearly the leader, looked towards the tower that the three were in, and began pointing towards it excitedly.  He started to rush towards it.

Just then, several things happened.  The air around the part of the beach that Di'Fier was staring at began to shimmer, and a dire crocodile stepped out of nothingness.  It lunged towards one of the startled pirates, who shrieked in very unwarriorlike surprise and terror.

Dru narrowed her eyes, dipping an arrow into the burning pitch,  and aimed her bow,  not at the pirates, but at one of their boats.  It caught on fire dutifully, and she smiled in satisfaction.

Shesara shot a flaming arrow at the charging leader, hitting him and catching his clothes on fire.  Shortly afterward, Dru sent two more into him.  "Ha," she muttered, pleased.

There was more chanting from Di'Fier's side of the tower, and suddenly, a cloud of fog surrounded several of the pirates.  Some of them did manage to stagger out of the fog, although the there was muffled cursing and gasping coming from all of them, as they doubled over on the beach.  The large leader, was unfortunately not in sight any longer.  _He must still be in the cloud,_ thought Di'Fier.

The dire crocodile grabbed onto a pirate's leg with vicious teeth, and tore off the offending appendage.  The man screamed, and died.  

A volley of flaming arrows came out of the tower, dropping a half dozen of the pirates.  The others, looking worried now, continued to advance upon the tower.

Di'Fier started chanting again, ducking out of view so that he didn't present a target.  _Let's see how they can handle a bear,_ he thought to himself.


Benares waded slowly through the water, trying to not make any more ripples than was strictly necessary.  He heard the sounds of fighting on the beach, and looked back towards the camp worriedly.  He hoped that his companions were able to defend themselves.  They were good in a fight, but they were extremely outnumbered.  

Grabbing the side of one of the boats, he began to drag it away.  _I have to save at least one of these, so that we can get back to Tanaroa,_ he thought to himself.  _Otherwise, knowing her,  Dru might fire all of them._ He looked back once more towards the beach to see a dire crocodile savaging yet another pirate, and another running around with his hair on fire, and shook his head in wry amusement.  _Our heroes fight dirty._

Dru sent one fire arrow after another into the pirates, dropping them one by one.  When she heard the strange cacaphony of Di'Fier chanting and Shesara beginning to sing an elven song of valor, she grinned.  _They don't stand a chance, numbers or not._

There were sudden yells of fear coming from the cave, and then the angry roar of a bear.

Some of the pirates got close enough to the tower that they were able to throw axes up at the heroes.  All of them missed.  "Thanks for the ammo!"  Dru beamed at them, and sent one hurling down at its former owner.  The blade sunk deeply into the man's chest, making him stumble and fall to the ground.

The crocodile was lunging at now desperately fleeing pirates, biting at some, smacking others with its tail.  It left behind it a wake of bodies.  The pirates were beginning to get brave again, however, because some of them began to carefully approach the rampaging reptile, swords ready.

The cloud of vapor dissipated, revealing several nearly comatose pirates.  _The leader isn't there, thought Dru wildly.  Where is he?_

As if in answer to her unspoken question, the rope ladder was jerked downward at her feet.  Smiling savagely, Dru dropped her bow, and pulled her rapier.  She poised herself above the trap door, and exchanged nods with Di'Fier.  They would wait.

There was another roar of enraged pain from the bear, and then there was silence.

Four throwing axes came over the sides of the tower again, but this time, their owners were more lucky.  Two of sank into Di'Fier, and two into Shesara.  

Shesara gasped, and ducked down out of sight.  She began to chant over herself, causing some of her wounds to knit themselves closed.

There was a cheer of victory as some of the pirates were actually able to wound the crocodile, cut short by it getting in another bite on one of their number.

While they were waiting for the leader to make his ascent, Di'Fier began chanting.  Thick webs appeared beneath the tower, trapping those pirates that were hiding beneath to escape the fire arrows.  

The leader vaulted over the side of the tower, instead of coming up through the trapdoor.  Dru blinked in momentary surprise, but recovered quickly.  She leapt towards him, her rapier singing out twice, rapidly.  Both times her blade struck true.  Di'Fier stepped forward, and with a blade that steamed from frost hitting the humid tropical air, struck the leader in the chest.  

Confused and surprised at quickly and seriously he had been injured, the pirate leader lunged towards Di'Fier blindly, striking out at nothing but air with his sword.

Shesara, singing, pulled her sword and thrust it through the leader's stomach.   Dru moved in again, striking at him twice, though only hitting once.  Di'Fier followed up with several bolts of magical energy, which struck him unerringly in the chest.

The leader, perhaps still unable to take the women seriously enough, struck out at Di'Fier, his blade finally hitting him.  The action, however, was enough to make him drop from the exertion on his heavily abused body.

"Dammit," said Dru.  "There's two arrows left."  She snatched one up, and plunged it into the burning pitch.  "Might as well use it" she grumbled, sending it towards one of the pirates, wounding him.

More bolts of magical energy flew from Di'Fier's fingertips,  killing one more pirate and seriously wounding another.


Out in the water, Benares moved the boat out of sight.  He started to move back to the shoreline, and when he got close enough, began to anxiously take stock of what had happened.  There were pirate bodies strewn carelessly all over the camp.  Only one pirate was still caught in the webbing, and was loudly protesting when his companions set fire to strands.  He couldn't see the crocodile anymore, so it had probably been defeated.  It seemed that there were only a few pirates left standing.  _We just might win this,_ he thought.  And then he saw Dru balancing precariously on the railing of the watchtower.  _What is she doing?!_  And then he heard her battle cry, and saw her leap over the edge.  His heart in his throat, he watched, and saw her land, feet first, onto one very surprised pirate.  He crumbled under the sudden weight, and did not stir again.  Dru half-rolled off of him, and moved out of the way of the other axes and swords.  

He saw Di'Fier balancing on railing as well.  The wizard then steadied himself, and sent several more magical bolts down into some of the enemy,  before leaping down at them.  He landed poorly, though, clearly hurting himself on the hard ground.  Benares winced.  


Shesara, upon seeing Di'Fier hurt himself, grabbed onto the rope that she and Dru had rigged up before the fight.  She slid down it, letting it carry her over the hedge and away from the fight.  She kept singing, though, hoping that her voice would continue to buoy her companions.  _The fight is almost over,_ she thought to herself.  _What a song this will make!_ 

A pirate, deciding that the prone Di'Fier was a good target, hit him an axe, the blade sinking into his currently unprotected leg.   

Di'Fier responded by sending more magical energy bolts into his opponent and one other pirate,  and then rolled to his feet.  

Shesara leapt back through the hedge, her sword ready.

There were two pirates left, who didn't seem to realize that they were outnumbered now. One of them stepped up to attack Di'Fier, but Dru moved in at his flank, sending her rapier into his kidney.  The pirate sank to the ground, blood bubbling out of his wound.

Di'Fier sank to one knee, knowing that he couldn't continue much longer.  He cast the glowing bolts of magical energy into the last standing pirate, and the collapsed to the ground.  The pirate fell beside him, breathing his last.

"All they had on them were just armor and their weapons," said Dru in disgust, dropping the last of the bodies into a pile.  "We _would_ kill the world's poorest pirates.  Maybe the huts will have some loot?"

"There's always the storage cave," said Shesara, comforting her.

Dru slipped on the magical ring that they had pulled from the leader's charred body.  "I wonder," she murmured.  "Di'Fier, you said you saw that guy walking on water?"

He nodded.

She stepped out into the water carefully, and grinned broadly at her companions when she stayed on top of its surface.  "I can walk on water!  I can walk to Tanaroa!  I can walk to _Freeport!_"


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-One, Part Two: Reflections on a Mountainside*

Icy winds wrapped around them, stealing under their crude cloaks.  It leached the heat from their bodies as they moved along the ridge in near-darkness, trusting more to instinct and blind luck than they did to vision.

One stumbled, to be caught by another, and a wordless decision seemed to be made.  They huddled as best they could in the lee of a stone outcropping.  Food as cold as they were was passed around - there were no materials for a fire here, even if the wind would let one be built.

One chewed resignedly as a spray of ice caught her in the face.  She sighed.  

"I should have walked to Freeport."






_Where did it all go wrong?_  Di'Fier looked at Shesara.  Of all of them, the slender bard was the worst off.  Her hands were cold and blue, and she barely had strength to chew the dried venison that served as their primary ration.  Di'Fier reached inside his shirt, where he'd placed some of the meat to warm its stiffness away.  "Shesara.  You've got to eat."

The blonde elf nodded, taking the meat weakly, and trying to bite a piece from it. Her jaw shivered so much that her teeth couldn't get a decent grip.

The wizard pulled his cloak closer around him, feeling its edges stiffened by the frost.  _This isn't how I thought it would go..._






It had all started so well.  They had set out from Tanaroa, a joyous escort following them, full of pride and hope that they would reach the City of the Gods.  After all, they were the great and invulnerable heros of the seven villages - slayers of dragons, defeaters of the undead, bingers of freedom.

They had trekked through the jungles for almost two weeks, watching the terrain become hillier, rockier, and finally emerging at the base of the mountains that dominated the central part of the island...

"We'll need warmer clothing," Benares said.  "Something warm and heavy, to keep the wind off."

"Even the damn _mountains_ are big here," Dru growled.  "Okay, Benares...ask the Tanaroans to bring us some hunters.  We'll see if we can get some furs."

The scholar nodded, and spoke with one of the Tanaroans.  "He wants to know what kind of animal you want to hunt."

"I don't know.  A bear or something."






_'A bear or something.'  What in all the hells was I thinking?_ 

Dru dove left as three tons of enraged ursine charged towards her.  One of her arrows jutted outward from its muzzle, and the fur was flattened and scorched from the bursts of arcane energy that Di'Fier had sent at it.  She pulled another arrow and launched it at the beast, but it bounced harmlessly from the thick hide.

The bear continued on past her, slamming itself into Di'Fier.  The mage stumbled, twisted away from the grasping paw, and brought his sword around in a glittering arc that glanced off of the creature's thick fur, leaving it unharmed.

Dru flung her bow to the side, pulling her blade from its battered scabbard, and leaping forward while the bear was distracted by Di'Fier.  _No way I'll reach the heart, not from here,_ she thought.  _But the legs..._ She thrust, twisted, and was rewarded by a gout of blood from the bear's femoral artery.  

The bear stopped concerning itself with Di'Fier, and twisted around with surprising agility.  One massive paw raised, descended.  Dru tried to dodge, but it connected with stunning force, sending her reeling into the second blow.  Her vision dimmed for a moment, and then the pain began as the bear sank its teeth into her shoulder.  She felt herself lifted into the air - and then dropped, as the bear bellowed in pain and rage.

She heard Di'Fier's cry: "Use a potion!" as she struggled to her feet.  Wisps of vapor rose from his bloodied sword as the frost he had channeled through it sublimated in the heat. He thrust forward, and the bear roared again in pain.

"No time for that," Dru muttered as she dove forward, stabbing again.  _Maybe if we can keep this thing switching targets long enough, we can whittle it down..._ A clublike paw conencted with her, knocking her asprawl. _Or not..._

She rolled to her feet even as the bear knocked Di'Fier to the ground, descending on top of him like an avalanche of fur and flesh.  The rocky ground slipped under her feet as she launched herself towards it.  The broad head turned to see her coming, but it was too late.






Di'Fier fingered the stiffening bearskin as he remembered. When he opened his eyes, he was looking at his partner.

"Shesara can't go on," she stated without preamble. "And Benares, he's not complaining, but he's not doing so well either."

"Maybe we should get up, keep moving?"

"I don't think they're strong enough.  We need to get out of this wind, or _none_ of us are going to survive..."

"...sorry..." said a voice.

Dru and Di'Fier turned.  Shesara rocked back and forth, shivering, the tracks of her tears threatening to crystallize on her face.

"...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." she repeated to herself.

"There's a spell that makes a shelter, but I never learned it," said Di'Fier.  "I'm not sure what we can do..."

Dru seemed to deflate, and she nodded. "At least the Tanaroans are safe.  If they can make it back across that bridge..."






"I hope we can make it across this bridge," Di'Fier said, eyeing the span critically.  "That's a long ways to go, and it's not all that wide."

"You'd think the gods would have invented railings," Dru muttered under her breath.

"Did we bring rope? All right.  Let's tie everyone together - that way if someone falls, the others can catch them." Di'Fier took the end of one of the lines and began lashing it to his own waist.  "We'll just take it slow and easy, and there won't be a problem."

They inched out across the massive stone archway in single file, not daring to move close to the edge.  The wind grabbed at the fur cloaks they had carved from the bear's hide, tugging playfully in a deadly game of follow-the-leader.

Dru rested a hand on Di'Fier's shoulder. "Look."

Above them, birdlike shapes wheeled.  Di'Fier squinted. "At least they're not that giant bird, but..."

"Here they come!  Everyone be ready!"

The creatures were more like dragons than birds, Di'Fier reflected as his _magic missile_s sent one of them spiralling downward. No feathers, a long bony crest on the back of the head...

The strange reptiles glided through the hail of javelins from the Tanaroans, their beaks snatching at the villagers, then dropping them in confusion when they were not easily carried off.  They banked under the bridge, gaining altitude again on the other side.

_If only I knew how to cast a _fly_ spell..._ Di'Fier thought to himself.  _I...but then again, I can summon things that can!_  He shifted his blade to the other hand and rummaged in his component pouch. The crude candle he withdrew was little more than beeswax wrapepd around a bit of string, but he hoped it would be close enough for the purposes of the spell.  He called out the incantation.

Three eagles appeared in a dazzling array of light, and the fight for the skies began.






Di'Fier smiled as he thought about the eagles, stooping bravely down against the larger flyers, but he was jerked back to reality by a whimper from Shesara.  _I've got to think...the spell to resist the elements won't last the night, and it'd only protect one of us besides.  I don't think a web would be very warm.  We've got to get out of this wind.  If only there were a cave or something..._

"Dru," he croaked through frozen lips.  "Get the others up. Get them ready to move."

She looked up at him dully.  "They can't keep going, Di'Fier."

"Not far. Just into the cave."

"There's no cave, Di'Fier."

"No." He grinned, feeling his chapped lips split open as he did.  "Not yet."






The mage held his hands near the rockface.  He could already feel the warmth working its way through it.

"D-d-d-di'Fier, mow much longer?" Dru asked.  Shesara leaned against her, almost unconscious, and Benares stood huddled miserably nearby.

"It's here," the mage answered.

Even as he spoke, the side of the cliff began to glow, and slump.  Heat washed over them in a welcome wave, and they moved closer to the glowing wormlike creature.

"D-d-didn't think I'd ever be warm again," muttered Benares.

"I'm going to send it back in to widen the tunnel," Di'Fier said.  "We'll have to wait until the rock cools enough for us to go in, but we'll be warm, and out of the wind, and we can rest.


----------



## Jon Potter

*Wow!*

Loved the jumping back and forth between past and present!

All in all, a very good read.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Two, Part Three: Mantru*

Di'Fier pushed at the bearskin, frozen stiff over the tiny tunnel entrance to the cave. He could hear it crackle under the pressure, and a spear of light pierced the tiny cave.  The travelers blinked awkwardly in the sun and snow-glare, dragging their equipment out and preparing for the journey down.

"At least this is easier than getting up was," Di'Fier commented as he wrapped a rope around himself before lowering himself over the edge.  "I just hope that the way off of this island _is_ in the City of the Gods.  I don't feel like climbing that again."  He didn't let the thought that there might not be an escape enter his mind.

They climbed down the inner slope of the bowl-shaped ridge, towards the azure lake they could see below.  The slope lessened, until they were able to walk rather than climb.  Soon, it was too hot for the cloaks, and they were left abaondoned in a smelly pile by the side of the trail.

"I never thought I'd miss cold like that," Dru grumbled, wiping sweat from her brow.  She looked out over the lake.  "I'm really hoping that fishing village is not the City of the Gods.  If it is, the Gods have a lot to answer for."

Shesara pointed.  "It's probably on that island.  I can just make out some buildings..."

"Let's stop at the village anyway," Benares said.  "We can ask the people there about the City.  Maybe they'll know something that can help us."

"Then again, they might come after us with spears."

"Don't be so negative, Dru," Di'Fier chided.  "I'm sure they-"  The first spear landed about ten feet away. "...oh."

"We haven't even _done_ anything yet," Dru complained.  "Shesara, do you think they speak Tanaroan?  Maybe you can talk to them."

Shesara bit her lip, and moved forward uncertainly.  "_Uta motaga bomo deneg!  Tanaroa getaru!_" she called out, and the approaching natives lowered their spears warily, but continued to advance.

Di'Fier grinned and raised his empty hands. "Let's show them we're peaceful."

"Easy for you to say," Dru shot back. "You could wipe out half of them without even touching your sword."  Still, she raised open hands in greeting.

The natives slowly encircled the tiny band of travelers.  One stepped forward and spoke rapidly, and Shesara turned to the others.

"I can mostly understand him.  Their language is different than Tanaroa's, probably from so much isolation.  But if the legends are right, sometimes people from the villages come here, so they've remained close enough to be understandable.  He says they're going to take us to see their chief."






"_That's_ the chief?  I thought the old guy was the chief."  Dru studied the carving warily, as if she expected it to come to life at any moment.

"Fano - the old man - is the talking chief," Shesara explained in a whisper. "He speaks for the chief.  The one with the crippled arm is Umlat - their priest."

"Why..." Fano's voice struggled with words made unfamiliar by long disuse. "Why you have come to Mantru?"

Di'Fier looked at the others, then took a step forward.  "We are lost travelers.  We were shipwrecked on this island, and we seek a way home.  We thought that perhaps if we traveled to the City of the Gods, we might find such a way."

Fano nodded, an expression of sadness falling over his face.  "I am sorrow you travel this distance," he began.  "Gods no longer are in City of Gods.  Now, island is taboo.  You may not go there.  But you may stay here in Mantru."

Di'Fier nodded slowly.  "Did another man, a pale man like us, pass this way long ago?"

"Yes.  He teaching was your language."

Umlat's face clouded over at these words, and he rasped out a few of his own.  "He is gone.  He brought curse on island. You not will follow him."


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

*Re: Session Twenty-Two, Part Three: Mantru*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Umlat's face clouded over at these words, and he rasped out a few of his own.  "He is gone.  He brought curse on island. You not will follow him." *




And yes, this is a classic example of something that should NOT be said to adventurers.


----------



## DiFier

like. Don't go up there.


----------



## Jon Potter

*Re: Re: Session Twenty-Two, Part Three: Mantru*



			
				Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *
> 
> And yes, this is a classic example of something that should NOT be said to adventurers. *




Do my ears deceive me or did you just refer to Dru as an adventurer?

What would her father think?


----------



## DiFier

I think she was talking about Di'Fier, Shesara and Benares.  Dru is just goign along and keeping them out of trouble.  but she isn't an adventurer.


----------



## Horacio

*Re: Re: Re: Session Twenty-Two, Part Three: Mantru*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Do my ears deceive me or did you just refer to Dru as an adventurer?
> 
> What would her father think?  *




Worse yet, what would Dru think? An angered Dru can be even worse that Papa Naïlo...


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

No, most certainly not an adventurer.  

Actually, I have no problems with Dru being an adventurer.  Dru has her own opinion about that, though.


----------



## Zarthon

I cannot wait to see whats wait in the City of the Gods for our heros.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Two, Part One: Cannibals in the City of the Gods*

A crack of thunder rolled across the ancient crater - a sourceless thunder, for the sky was as clear and blue as it had ever been.  The villagers of Mantru scanned the heavens for some sign that Olorin, god of the skies, was displeased, but found nothing.

Meanwhile, in a clearing not far from the village, Dru looked skeptically at the heavy, macelike rod that they had retrieved from the Swamp Hag's hut, then inspected the splintered treetrunk where it had impacted. 

Nearby, Di'Fier looked up from a collection of ragged vellum pages.  "That sounded promising."

"It would be, if I could figure out how I did it."  Dru waved the metal stick in the air, then swung it against the tree.  When no further response was forthcoming, she shrugged, stuffed it back into her belt, and wandered over to where her partner sat. "What are you reading, anyway?"

The pages Di'Fier held were wrinkled and weatherstained. "I got these from the priest, Umlat.  As near as I can tell, they're from one of the spellbooks of the wizard who stopped through here."  The mage gave a rueful smile.  "I think he gave them to me to try and convince us to stay."

"We're _not_ staying," Dru said firmly.  "Papa needs to know I'm still alive."

"I'm kind of suprised that nobody has come for us," Di'Fier sighed.  "I thought my mother would have had the Guild scrying our location so she could teleport in and bring us back." He sighed, looking down at the pages.  "None of these seem to be teleportation, either.  In fact, they're not in very good shape at all.  I'm going to have to guess at some of the spell to use them, but it could be worth it - especially if there are lots of cannibals.  This one is a _fireball_ spell," he said, indicating the papers. "...I think."

Dru nodded.  "Might as well use it here. I don't think it'd get a lot of use in Freeport.  I was thinking about the cannibals.  Maybe I should go scout out the island."

Di'Fier frowned. "I think they'd notice if a boat...oh," he said, remembering the ring.  "That's a good idea.  I'll prepare an extra-long invisibility spell tomorrow."

Dru lay back in the tall grass, staring up at the circle of blue overhead.  "If I go crazy and start eating people, you'll just haveto come rescue me."







"All right, this will hold for several hours.  Unless you attack something," Di'Fier told her.  "I'll send Ampiel along so you can get word back if something happens."

Dru's voice spoke from the air.  "They don't have ravens on the island.  Do you think they'll notice?"

Di'Fier laughed. "They're cannibals, not ornithologists.  I think you'll be OK."

Dru set off across the lake, Ampiel fluttering in wary circles before settling down, seemingly carried along in midair.

As they walked, Dru looked down through the crystalline waters of the lake.  She could see the fish that swam below her, clear to the rocky bottom.  Then she shifted her attention before her.  "Doesn't look like much, does it, Ampiel?  Mostly ruins."

"Scurvytown," the raven laughed, and launched himself from her shoulder.

The island loomed in front of her, dotted with crumbling white marble that projected from the carpet of green that covering it.  _If the gods ever did live here, it was a long time ago,_ Dru thought to herself. _I guess_they_ won't be sending us back.  Maybe we can find the wizard's spellbook..._

She circled the island for long minutes, looking up at the sheer sides.  "Apparently the gods didn't get visitors very often.  There's no way in...wait, what's that?"

Ampiel circled around, listening for her voice. "A dock."

"Thanks, bird." Dru crept closer, her feet hovering soundless above the water. "And canoes...this must be where the cannibals are."  She crept closer.

The ramshackle docks projected in uneven angles from a marble platform that rose from the lake.  Stairs led up to a crumbling temple set into the rock of the island.  Before it stood a pair of carved feet, shattered at the ankles - all that remained of a far greater statue - and from the walls, a pair of faces looked blankly on.

Dru stepped onto the stone platform, feeling her weight once again settle to the ground.  Slowly, she advanced, circling a piece of fallen pillar as she climbed the stairs.  Ampiel perched on the immense stone foot, watching for any sign of life.

_Only one way in,_ Dru observed.  That way was a narrow hall that led into the rock. She let her vision adjust to the dim light, and could see that it was blocked - no, mostly blocked.  That rubble hadn't fallen there, it was carefully placed by human hands.  Only a narrow pathway along the left side allowed entrance.

Dru shifted her weight, moved forward. Stone crunched under her foot, and from behind the barricade, a head appeared, followed by the rest of the person.  The cannibal didn't look much different from anyone else she had seen on the island. _Aside from the filed teeth._ she amended. She remained there, unmoving, until he vanished, then resumed her forward progress.

She could hear voices, and then footsteps, and she froze again as another person came around the corner.  He was heavily muscled, almost a foot taller than most of the villagers she had seen, but that was not what drew her attention.

It was his face.

The eyes were wide, set too far apart in a face whose nose seemed to have been cut away. Parralel slashes along the jawline looked like scars, until they rippled, showing red underneath.  Like the others, his teeth came to points, but Dru had the feeling they weren't filed down.  And at the corners of his mouth, fleshy wormlike nubs squirmed as if blindly reaching out for something.

The creature held its spear in one hand, and began to scan the area.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Two, Part Two: Temple Battle (Part One)*

"...so I snuck past the wormface and into the main part of the temple," Dru continued.  "There's a lot of them.  Cannibals," she hastily added. "Not wormfaces."

"I wonder if he's the leader?"

"If he's not, I don't want to see what the leader looks like." Dru poked at the glowing coals. "I think you should try that _fireball_ spell from the book."

"I think so too. I just hope it works." Di'Fier looked dubiously down at the page, where humidity and age had blurred the sigils. "It really would have helped had I known the spell before, but I'm just guessing now."

Benares stood. "We'll have to leave early if we want to steal a canoe before the fishermen awake.  I'd suggest getting some rest now."  He glanced at Di'Fier. "If they'll let us."

The mage chuckled.  The villagers had been overjoyed to see 'new blood', and Benares' blonde hair made him seem particularly exotic - and therefore desirable.  Not that Di'Fier had been left alone... "All right.  Maybe we can convince them it's a holy day or something."






"There it is.  Go to the left, you'll see the docks.  Don't circle the entire thing like I did," Dru grumbled.

"I'm just glad we stopped going in circles," Di'Fier said. "It would have been embarassing to still be paddling around out there when the fisherman came out."

Shesara held out her hand to Ampiel, who obediently hopped onto it, hoping for food. "I'm going to use you as the focus for my spell fo invisibility," she told him.  "That way, if one of us makes an attack, the others will still be unseen.  All you have to do is stay close to us."

"All right."

The quintet faded from view, and an empty canoe glided up to the crude docks.  No sentries were visible, and after all were touching to make sure they stayed within the radius of the spell, they crept forward.

"If we can get their attention, maybe we can draw them out," Dru muttered.  "Use their own defenses against them."  A small chunk of marble lifted into the air, and arced towards the stone feet, shattering on them.

Two natives crept out warily, spears at the ready, lips drawn back from pointed teeth in silent snarls.  They died swiftly, with barely time to cry out.  The wormfaced creature was right behind them, its spear knocking aside their blows and stabbing at Benares.

Shesara stepped up behind Dru and laid a hand on her shoulders, singing a single low note that rose in pitch and intensity.  Dru could feel it stirring her blood, moving her faster as the world slowed around her.  She stepped inside the reach of the wormface's spear, sneering as he tried desperately to stop her, and struck three times, collapsing him into a heap.

She looked down the corridor.  _It's going to take them_ forever _to come out here,_ she thought, and with that, she headed down the corridor, vaulting the rubble easily and entering the main temple.  Golden globes of light streaked past her, knocking two of the cannibals down, and she knew the her friends were following her.

It was a mass of chaos, as the cannibals prepared to repel the invaders - warriors preparing their weapons, flooding out of the rooms on the second floor.  Some had their bows already strung, and Dru sidestepped the arrows that swam slowly though the air. 

Behind her, she could hear Di'Fier's chanting - low, slow, and strange. A virulent green haze formed over the center of the temple, catching many of the cannibals in it.  She could hear choking and vomiting from within it, and she grinned wolfishly, advancing towards the few who had been outside its effect.






Di'Fier followed Dru in, watching as she sliced through the warriors.  "More wormfaces!" he cried, as they came down the stairs.  On the upper balcony of the temple, he could see a tattooed man gesturing and shouting in an unknown language.  _Shaman,_ he guessed.  _I'd better use this fireball before I can't anymore._

He began to chant the words he had impressed in his mind.  _No...this isn't right..._ Desperately he tried to force them into the pattern he thought they should be. _I never should have tried this...was it like this? Or..._ As the spell shuddered and tried to take form, he finished with a half-remembered flourish from one of his favorite spells, and gestured at the balcony.

A tiny red bead flew from his hand, expanding into a sphere of flames - but instead of the explosion he had expected, it stopped when it was six feet across, slamming into the shaman like a physical force - and remaining.

Di'Fier rolled it back and forth experimentally.  _Like a flaming sphere, but hotter..._ His thoughts were interrupted when the smouldering shaman stepped out of the flames and launched a bolt of misty energy at him that slammed into his side with great force.  _That was no magic missile!_ Di'Fier thought, and rolled the sphere over the shaman again, following it with a volley of arcane bolts of his own that knocked the enemy spellcaster from the balcony to plummet to the ground.

Di'Fier watched him fall, pleased with himself - until the sharp pain of a wound brought his attention back to the battle. The old man who faced him was muscular, scarred, and grizzled, with years of experience at using the spear he held in his hand.  _The leader?_ he thought, stepping backward.  One hand pulled out the scroll he had stuffed into his belt, leting it fall open.  He spoke the words inscribed there, and saw a glimmering disk of force form in front of him.  A thought sent the ball of flame leaping from the balcony towards the warrior, but he sidestepped it easily, moving foward and swinging his spear low, under the _shield_.

Di'Fier hit the floor, staring up at the ceiling as the old warrior stood above him, his spear raised...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Two, Part Three: Temple Battle (Part Two)*

Di'Fier rolled desperately to the side, but the chieftain's spear bit into his flesh, tracing lines of fire along his veins.  Only the intervention of his _flaming sphere_ allowed him the chance to stagger to his feet before the spearblade slid deep into his thigh.

Gritting his teeth, the mage unleashed the last of his _magic missiles_, rocking the older warrior back on his heels.  Before the glow of the arcane bolts had faded, Di'Fier was limping away to find cover under the stairs.

Dru looked up from the corpse of the wormface she had dropped, seeing the trail of blood her partner was leaving.  "Di'Fier's hurt bad!" she cried.  "Shesara-"

Her words were cut off by the chieftain's spear as its tip opened a gash down her arm.  Dru felt dizzy as the blood ran out of her.  She shook her head to clear it, stumbling back a step and pulling one of her precious few healing potions.  She saw Benares leap to cover her, ignoring the wound he received from his opponent in the process, distracting the chief with a spinning flurry of attacks from his staff.  The cannibal blocked them easily with the shaft of his spear, and with a grunt of contempt, hooked his opponent's leg from under him sending him crashing to the ground, then drove the spearblade deep into his shoulder as Benares tried to stand.

From behind her, there came an explosion of vivid light.  _If Di'Fier's using _color spray_ then he's almost out of spells..._ she thought, her blade lashing out at the chieftain to distract him from the fallen Benares.  She looked to Shesara, fighting defensively and slowly falling back under the press of bodies. _We've got to end this, _fast.

With her distraction, Benares was able to roll to his feet, and he shared an almost imperceptible nod with the elven warrior. The air seemed to moan as his staff parted it, impacting the chieftain's spear with enough force to numb the cannibal's hands.  He reversed, forcing the chieftain onto the defensive...

...and back into Dru's waiting blade.

It emerged through his stomach, withdrew.  Through his ribcage, in a  gout of blood that sprayed Benares in gore.  And through his throat, slid between the vertebrae.  The chieftain collapsed like an abandoned puppet, and the remaining cannibals wavered.

Dru raised her bloodied blade...and charged.






Di'Fier slowly flexed his bandaged leg.  "It feels almost all right," he said.

"...but the healing magic should have fixed it all the way," Benares finished for him.  "There is something fouler at work here.  Only Shesara was spared, since she was not wounded by the chieftain."

"I think we'd better return to Mantru to rest, before we explore the rest of this temple," the mage said, and found only agreement in the eyes of his companions.  Leaving the bodies behind, they returned to their stolen canoe.

At the village docks, the people of Mantru awaited them with spears.  One splashed into the water only feet from the boat, and Dru growled. Benares lifted a hand to calm her, and listened to their shouts.  "They are angry that we have violated the taboo of the island," he reported.  "We may not return to Mantru."

"They're not that different from the people in Freeport," Dru scowled. "They never appreciate when you do a good turn for them."

"We'll need to find someplace else to land and rest," said Di'Fier, paddling clumsily. "Maybe we can find a cove or something along the shore."


----------



## Jon Potter

Vile damage, doc? That's just plain mean, if that's the case, considering that they're in the jungle without a cleric.

So I forget if you said this already, but are Shesara and Benares new cohorts for our intrepid pair? If so, who is whose?

I can't wait to see what you did with the rest of the Taboo Island ruins? What's the story with "wormface" anyway?


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Vile damage, doc? That's just plain mean, if that's the case, considering that they're in the jungle without a cleric.
> 
> So I forget if you said this already, but are Shesara and Benares new cohorts for our intrepid pair? If so, who is whose? *




I suppose I ought to put some stats up in the Rogue's Gallery, but yeah, those two are the cohorts for the Isle of Dread.  In fact, one of them sticks around afterwards and is still with them as of this writing (the other slot is currently filled by their old friend Brother Egil).

Shesara is at this point (I believe) a 7th level bard, while Benares is a 7th level Holy Warrior (from GR's Book of the Righteous - based on the Mage Guard of Tinel in specific).



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *I can't wait to see what you did with the rest of the Taboo Island ruins? What's the story with "wormface" anyway? *




Yeah, what indeed?  Jeez, those guys were creepy.  If you remember the original module, though, you'll remember what's waiting in the caverns below the temple.  Consider that and you may get some idea...

J


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

And to answer the rest of the question, Shesara is Dru's cohort, and Benares is Di'Fier's.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Three, Part One: Beneath the Temple*

The main room was much the same as before, although the horde of cannibals screaming for their blood had been replaced with piles of the rotting dead, stinking and festering in the tropical heat.  Di'Fier tried not to breathe as he stepped over a body that crawled with maggots.  He passed the central firepit, where a flame still burned.  _You'd think it'd have burned down by now,_ he thought, trying to remember the positions of the bodies when they left.

"I think there's something about this face," Dru muttered as she examined the enormous stone effigy that dominated the rear of the temple.  "Look how deep the eyes are.  Like there's something behind it."  Her gaze moved over the stonework, settling on a third hole between the other two.  "But what's this...?"

Di'Fier saw the cloud of dust sprayed from the hole, and dove backward as quickly as he could.  He could see Shesara do the same, as Dru and Benares stood in confusion for the split-second before the dust hit the flames - and exploded.

Coughing as the smoke cleared, Dru swore, smothering the sparks in her hair with her hands as she stumbled to join Di'Fie rand Shesara.  "Damn it!  Why is it every time I get my hair to grow, it gets _burned off!_"

"I think there's someone left alive," Di'Fier said. "If that had been an automatic trap, the cannibals never would have lived here."

Dru straightened, drawing her rapier.  Her left hand reached out to run along the wall.  "You're right.  There's a hidden door - I was just loking for it in the wrong place."

"Door?  I think I'll make my own." Di'Fier pulled a crude candle and a tiny bag from his pouch, throwing them to the ground with an incantation.  Once again, the strange wormlike creature answered his call, burrowing out of nowhere.  It paused, then launched itself at the stone face, vanishing into a hole whose edges glowed red. A moment later, they heard the crashing of wood, and the screams began.

"Someone's trying to open the door," Dru said.

"Let them."

Dru stepped back, blade at the ready, as the section of stone wall pivoted on unseen hinges.  She could see flames in the room beyond as a lone figure stumbled out, burned and barely standing: a young girl, not more than ten years of age.

Dru swore, clubbing the child across the back of the head and sending her to the ground.  "Di'Fier - is there anyone else in there?"

The mage stepped to the door. "No." With an upraised hand, he dismissed the rockworm he had summoned.

Dru held the last of her healing potions in her hand, studying the girl.  She growled, pulling the stopper out with her teeth.  "Get me some rope," she told Shesara, as she trickled the precious liquid down the girl's throat.

_That should do it,_ she thought to herself as she looped the rope around her captive.  _Enough to keep her out of our way, but she should be able to get out if we don't come back._  "What's back there?"

Di'Fier surveyed the room. It was small, mostly barren. "It looks like there used to be a platform behind the face," he reported.  "Although there's not much left of it after the thoquaa set it on fire.  We'll have to wait for it to die down before we can get past." He coughed from the smoke. "There's some kind of passage up there, though.  And it looks like a trapdoor, going down.  We can get to that."

"Smoke rises," Benares said. "So perhaps down is the best idea at this point."

"Who's going first?" asked Dru.  "And why are you all looking at me?"






Dru looked up from the snake as it turned and slithered away.  "It's all right. They won't hurt us now."  As the others began their descent, she surveyed the room.  Lined with statues of long-forgotten priests, there seemed to be only one exit.  Her eyes roamed over the room, settling on a pool of water in the rear corner. _How did that get there?  I almost looks like it's seeping through from somewhere._

"I think there's a secret door back here," she said, moving towards it.  "Anything they had to build a secret door to hide is probably worthwhile."

"Dru, are you sure that's-" Benares began as Dru found the catch.  The sudden wave of water from beyond the door knocked the elf from her feet as it crashed into the room.  She shot to the surface, propelled by the ring, but the water spun amd moved below her, carrying her out into the corridor.

"Dru!" shouted Di'Fier, clinging desperately to one of the statues.  He pulled on the stone, trying to force himself towards the door and the water that poured from it.

Benares braced himself against the water, taking one slow, cautious step after another.  "Close the door! I'm going after her!" Another step - and an iron portcullis came crashing down in front of him, trapping the remaining three inside.


----------



## DiFier

Di'Fier was totally sure that puddle in the corner lead to a room full of water.  or even the ocean (which wasn't the case they were a couple 100 feet from the ocean.  He didn't want to mess with it.  he was sure that when the door was opened a huge wave of water would come crashing into them and wash them away.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

And Dru found out that her friends really _did_ like her.  They didn't just let her get washed away.    Loyalty, what a novel concept.


----------



## drnuncheon

I just thought I'd stir things up a bit here, and post some of our picks for actors for the Freeport movie.  (This was going to be in the Book 1 collection, but we all know how quickly that's not going.)  For some reason, many of the actors wound up being in The Matrix - we're not sure why.

Anyway:

*Dru* was the first person cast, and probably caused the 'Matrix Connection' when we realized that the ideal person to play the role was Carrie-Anne Moss: capable of playing tough, cold, and good in a fight.

Her father *Tensin* remained 'uncast' for a long time, until watching the Two Towers made Dru and I realize that, despite the threat of typecasting, Hugo Weaving would be perfect for the role.

*Di'Fier* was tough.  The aforementioned 'Matrix Connection' made the front-runner Keanu Reeves (with slightly longer hair).

*Jaffar* is the last of the 'Matrix' alums that we'd cast: Joe Pantoliano.  Something about the way he can give off a cocky attitude made him connect me with our hoarse-voiced Watchman.

Most of the other parts remain unchosen, although I've been considering Michael Clarke Duncan (_The Green Mile_, _Daredevil_) for the part of *Quooral Stonecypher*. Any other ideas?  We'd love to hear them!

J


----------



## DiFier

All we are is dust in the wind, dude!  well at least after I cast Disintergrate on you.

No wait I know:  Johnny Depp

As for other suggestions:  (if you don't know who they are look them up on yahoo)
Dru: Kate Beckinsale (see pic from underworld)
Milton Drac: Jon Voit. or Christopher Walken.
Capt Donnach: Liam Neeson 
Spruce:  Seth Green (maybe)
Reed: Dustin Hoffman
Capt Roberts.: Alan Rickman (?)
Dulanos (Di'Fier's Father):  Bruce Willis (grrrr)
Eleanor Anton (Di'Fier's Mother): I'm at a loss.  maybe Mary Steenburgen w/ straight hair. 
Shasara:  Gwen Stefani or Charlize Theron 
Behares: Brad Pitt.
Katya: Selma Blair.
Glunnyn: hmmm.  I don't know.
Jemis: Edward Norton
Ashrem: Ryan Philipe (with a wig)
Quooral: I like Michael Clarke Duncan or maybe the guy who played sabertooth.

Did I forget anyone?


----------



## DiFier

this is what I do rater than update my story hour.

so I'm rereading the story hour and I see this 

"I asked Glenfield about vigilante wizard's groups - he said there's rumors of one that polices the actions of wizards, but this doesn't sound like them."

Jeeze Doc you have things weaving in and out of the plot Way before they happen that is so cool.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Three, Part Two: Guardians of the Temple*

Dru tumbled down the corridor, the ring she wore propelling her to the surface of the water but not allowing her to gain solid footing. The faint light from the other room was almost gone, and she dragged her fingers down the slick walls, searching for something to hold onto. A gap - ahole - and her fingers snagged the edge, barely holding her against the raging current.

Dimly, from up the corridor, she could hear Di'Fier's shouting, and a crashing of iron.  She pulled herself towards the hole, searching for a better grip.

Something brushed against her hand.

Dru looked up, seeing two reflected circles of green in the dim light, and then the teeth sank into her hand.  She forced herself to keep a grip.  Was it her imagination, or was the water slacking?  It was!

Seeing that biting at the hand would do nothing, the rat lunged at Dru's face.  She threw up an arm to bat it away, hoping she could hold on with her wounded hand, and reached for her blade, thrusting into the dimness and feeling it bite home.

The water had almost stopped, and around her, Dru could hear the splashes of more of the giant rats entering the water.






"I can't budge it!" Di'Fier gritted his teeth and heaved again, Benares straining at his side, but the iron portcullis refused to move.

"Something else is down there," Shesara told them. "Dru's fighting. I can hear her swearing at them."

"DRU!" Di'Fier shouted.  "This way!  We can't get to you!"  He turned and began wading through the waist-deep water towards the back of the room.

"What are you doing?" Shesara asked.

"Preparing a little surprise for Dru's playmates."






Dru stood on the uneven surface of the water, the remnants of the current slowly drawing her along the corridor. Her blade flicked out again and again, each time leaving a furry corpse to float in the water, but more of the rats kept coming, a steady stream dropping from the holes in the walls. _Where the hell _is_ everybody?_

"Dru!" she heard. "This way! We can't get to you!"

"It's right down the damned hallway," Dru snarled, sending another rat into watery oblivion. Seing a momentary break in their ranks, she took the opportunity and began to run.  The creatures swam up the hallway behind her, clambering over each other in their haste to pursue, filling the surface of the water until it looked like a river of rats.

_Too bad Di'Fier doesn't have his forcebolt,_ she thought, as she came within sight of the room she'd been swept out of - and the iron portcullis that now blocked the entryway.  

Shesara gestured to her through the bars.  "Get up here...and grab ahold!"  Without questioning, Dru flung her arms through the metal grate, clinging to it like a wrestler in the ring.

And Di'Fier opened the door again.

The wave of water sent him spinning into one of the statues that lined the room.  Dru's feet were again swept from beneath her as the water crashed through the iron bars, sweeping her furry pursuers away like an enormous broom.  She clung there for long minutes as the water continued, hoping that it would end, and that Di'Fier wasn't letting the entire lake drain into the temple basement.

Gradually, the torrent began to slacken.  The water still moved under her feet as it slowly drained away through some unknown hole, but of the rats there was no sign.

"Are you all right?" Di'Fier asked, wading back through the chest-deep water.

"Except for the hand, yes."

"Good.  Now...get us out of here!"






Di'Fier inspected the metal bar, the end shiny and smooth where he had hacked at it with his sword.  "Maybe we can bend this out of the way now.  I'll never fit through it, but you might be able to squeeze back in here, and then we can see what's past the secret door."  The knee-high water swirled around his boots as he adjusted his stance and pushed, Dru gripping from the other side.  Slowly, the bar began to bend, and in a few more minutes, Dru was again on the same side of the iron gate.

"At least we know they were capable of metalwork," the mage pondered. "That's more advanced than anyone else on the island that we've seen.  The more I see, though, the more I doubt that there ever were gods in this city."

"I don't care about gods, I just want a way home," Dru said, yanking open a door as eagerly as if she expected to step into the common room of Sehanoarun's.

Beyond waited a half-flooded ampitheater, rows of seats facing a central stage.  Reflexively, Dru glanced towards it, and gaped.  "Now _that's_ a giant monster I can enjoy."

Sitting on the platform, partially uncovered by the lowering water, was an enormous oyster of a strange azure hue.  Flanking it, a pair of crabs the size of horses sidled into the water.

"A giant oyster might have a giant pearl..." Di'Fier breathed, unsheathing his sword and drawing out his potion of _water breathing_.

"Oyster? I meant the crabs.  Look at the size of those legs!" Dru licked her lips. "If only we had some butter."






Di'Fier tucked the enormous black pearl into his pouch.  "Between this, and the gems from the hag and the pirates, we should at least be able to make up for all the stuff that the slavers stole from us."

"It won't mean anything if we don't find a way off of this island.  There's another door back here." Dru opened it, revealing a short section of flooded corridor terminating in a second door. "We're probably somewhere back near the end of that corridor that we washed the rats down, so be careful."

The foursome proceeded into the room: Dru atop the water and the other three wading through it, thigh-deep. Shesara stumbled, and Dru heard a telltale click.  "Everybody _down_!" she cried, leaping backwards as a fine spray of oil misted over the water and ignited.  The smoke made her eyes sting, burned her lungs - and Di'Fier and the others were trapped under the water by the flames.  Her partner could breathe thanks to the potion he'd consumed earlier, but Benares and Shesara were not so lucky.

Dru took a step back, and then ran, leaping over the flames to slam her body into the door at the end of the corridor.  It creaked, then gave way - and the water poured from the room, taking them with it. Dru somehow managed to keep her feet as the rush swept her down the corridor - and into another iron gate.  Within moments, the water - and the flames - were gone, and the four castaways sat in the corridor, nursing their bruises.  

"Whatever's down this corridor, they didn't want people getting in," Di'Fier said.

"Are you sure?" Dru stood, taking hold of the lever that projected from the wall above Di'Fier's head.  She gave it a hard yank, and the ancient portcullis ground upward a couple of feet.  "They put the controls on this side..."

"I guess the only way to find out is to go check."

Cautiously, they ducked under the portcullis, and made their way down the slick limestone steps beyond.  The cavern beyond was dark and vast, with thin paths of rock winding their way between pools of bubbling mud.

"This doesn't look very civilized," Dru said.  "If this place _is_ the City if the Gods...do you think this is the gateway into Hell?"

"I'm not sure."  Di'Fie rpeered out across the cavern.  "I guess we should give it a look, just to make sure we don't miss anything." He stepped forward, his boots slipping on the wet stone of the path.

"Maybe I'd better go first," Dru said, moving forward.

They skirted the edge of the cavern, hearing the mudpots bubble and burst.  Di'Fier felt a hand on his shoulder as Shesara reached to him for balance, and he turned - just as she shoved him towards the boiling mud.

Di'Fier stumbled, falling to his knees rather than go off the path.  He snatched at Shesara's leg to try to wrestle her to the ground, but the nimble bard evaded his grasp, stepping backwards.

"What is going _on_ here?" shouted Dru.

Benares laid a slender hand on Shesara's shoulder, holding her with surprising strength. "May the lord of knowledge grant you the clarity to see through this enchantment," he said, and the elf's eyes seemed to refocus.

"Di'Fier...what..." she said, her hands flying to her mouth. "Are you-"

A deep growl cut off her words as something rose from the mud: something huge and muscular, with wide-set eyes, a tripartate tail, and four tentacles ringing its mouth.  Gill-slits rippled on the sides of its face.  One claw lashed out, knocking Shesara to the ground.

Dru's blade slid into the light. "I think we just found what corrupted those cannibals..."


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *Milton Drac: Christopher Walken. *




How could I forget that one? We've _got_ to have Christopher Walken.



			
				DiFier said:
			
		

> *Jeeze Doc you have things weaving in and out of the plot Way before they happen that is so cool.*




Heh.  At least, when I'm planning ahead I do.  Sometimes my trouble is, I plan too far ahead.  I think I've got more ideas on Book Five than I do on Book Three...

J
focus!


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

That was a good one, Doc!


----------



## Jon Potter

DiFier said:
			
		

> *so I'm rereading the story hour and I see this
> 
> "I asked Glenfield about vigilante wizard's groups - he said there's rumors of one that polices the actions of wizards, but this doesn't sound like them."
> 
> Jeeze Doc you have things weaving in and out of the plot Way before they happen that is so cool. *




Yeah. At the outset of Book 2, at the part when the warehouse got torched, I thought that it was either the Claw or the group that Doc hinted at later in that quote. He had mentioned that both groups were upcoming in the Freeport camaign. It turned out in that particular case to be the former... I'm glad we're going to get a peak at the drnuncheon take on the latter.

Oh, and creepy post. When you started Isle of Dread, I thought that perhaps you would turn the Gods of the Island into Serpent Men, given the Freeport connection. I see that I was wrong; they're just another degenerate race of antediluvian monstrosities.  

I am curious how you updated their stats to 3E, though.


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *I am curious how you updated their stats to 3E, though. *




Well, I _started_ with the stats for them given in the MM2.   The particular kopru found in the temple were advanced to 12 HD, thus:

*Kopru*: CR 7; HD 12d8+24; hp 78; Init +1; Spd 5 ft, swim 40 ft; AC 15 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +5 natural); Melee tail slap +17 (1d8+6) and 2 claws +15 (1d6+3) and bite +15 (1d6+3); Face 5’ x 5’; Reach 10’; SA Constrict 3d8+9, dominate person (Will DC 16), improved grab (grapple +25); SQ Darkvision 60 ft; AL CE; SV Fort +6, Ref +10, Will +11; Str 23, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 11, Wis 12, Cha 10

_Skills and Feats_:  Concentration +13, Escape Artist +13, Move Silently +12, Search +9, Swim +11; Iron Will, Multiattack

J


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Well, I started with the stats for them given in the MM2.
> J *





Since I don't own the MM2, I had no idea that they had made the leap to 3E.

Just one more reason to pick up the book, I guess.


----------



## Zarthon

Nice Cliffhanger Doc  

I've always liked the "Ring of Waterwalking" until I saw it in action with a water trap, then thinking as a DM...  

By the way Doc whats happening back at Freeport?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Interludes and Conversations*

_*Compiler's Note*: Chronologically, this interlude would have occured several weeks ago.  I was going to save some of the events in here for revelation in the main storyline, but it won't hurt anything to put them in here._

"Gaberk."  The voice is soft, strained, as if its owner struggled to speak.

"Yes, my lord."  Rough, this one, rough and deep.

"Why has he not visited?  Why has he not written?"

"I do not know, my lord.  There have been no messengers with a reply from your nephew.  Perhaps the captain we hired to take the missive forgot it, or lost it, or was lost himself."

"Send me Ivanior."

"As you wish, my lord."

Footsteps, then silence, and then a third voice, soft as silk.  "My lord?"

"I do not trust Gaberk. Take up your pen."







Below the city, they gathered, moving through hidden ways and sluggish waters.  They answered a call, unheard but felt, and it brought them together.  Secret signs scratched on stone drew them inward, subtle scents led them on as they tasted the air with their tongues.

At last, they came to rest, in a smooth-walled cavern beneath the streets above, its walls covered with murals of glory.  There they met with the others, under the baleful gaze of their god and his prophet, and there they remained.

Waiting.






"Good work, Watch-Lieutenant Lukin.  You and your team are a credit to the force."  A pause. "Still no sign of them?"

"No, sir - and that's the last of the slave ships we've been able to find operating in the city."

"All right.  I'm reassigning the Special Crimes Unit."

"Captain-"

"No arguments.  It's been four months, and still no sign of them.  This is important, too."

"What is it?"

"Grave robbers.  Several tombs have been desecrated, and whoever is doing it has hit Watch End as well."

"Watch End? They're not doing it for the money..."

"No. The bodies."






_He never seemed so old before,_ the young elf reflected.  _So old, so tired.  This has been harder on him than even I realized._  For a moment, he felt sympathy welling up inside him, but he forced it back.  _Concentrate on the job at hand._

The older elf looked at him.  "A bow, Enialis?  And a blade?"

"My training has not made me forget my heritage altogether," he replied with a smile. "And even though you will not tell me where we are bound, your actions tell me it is a place of great danger.  We may be glad of them before this is through."

The older elf nodded, turning back to the blades arrayed on his desk.  Slowly, with infinite care, he slipped them into hidden sheaths until all had vanished. "We will not be traveling as ourselves.  It would be...impolitic of me to be seen on the streets of Highgate."

"Highgate?"

"A necessary stop on our journey."

"And you want nobody following you."

"Just so." The older elf's hands floated over the collection of mementos that decorated his office, resting briefly on an ornately carved harp that seemed to sigh at his touch, then moving to a long, flat case almost hidden behind a shelf.  Placing it on his desk, he opened it, withdrew the silver-handled cane within, and inspected the blade it contained. 

"Tensin..."

The older elf looked up.

"We will find her."


----------



## Jon Potter

Well, I guess that answers the question: what's happening back at Freeport?

It is sort of depressing to find the SCU being reassigned, but a city like Freeport can't stay quiet for long. At least their new case sounds interesting.

Of the various interludes, I must admit that I'm most intrigued by the one involving what I assume are serpentmen. Are they wondering what happened to Dru or what? Very intriguing. I'm really impressed the way you turned the sacrifice in the sunken temple into a lasting plot point. Very well done.

Does the first interlude feature Di'Fier's ailing uncle that we've heard about but never seen?

And lastly, nice bit of cross-story hour continuity with the harp.  

Dang. I'm just full of praise tonight.


----------



## Horacio

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Dang. I'm just full of praise tonight. *




I'm always full of praise after reading drnuncheon's story hour


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Does the first interlude feature Di'Fier's ailing uncle that we've heard about but never seen?
> 
> And lastly, nice bit of cross-story hour continuity with the harp.
> *




It does indeed feature Di'Fier's ailing uncle...you'll find out what the serpent people are up to when Our Heroes make it back...and the harp is not the only piece of crossover continuity.  Just a teaser there.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Three, Part Three: Mud Wrestling*

Words of magic cracked through the air as Di'Fier unleashed arcane fury on the creature.  It turned, slamming Dru to the ground with its tail and slashing three bloody lines across Di'Fier's thigh.  The mage's leg buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, sending another volley of magic missiles at the creature.

"There's another one coming!" Shesara warned, ducking under the sweep of a tail.  Dru lunged forward as the creature came towards her, driving her blade deep even as it tore at her, howling. She wrapped her arm around the back of its neck and drove her body forward, forcing the blade deeper, then leapt free as it began to sink into the mud.

The others had already turned on the new arrival, sending volley after volley of arrows and magic into the darkness.  "Where is it?" shouted Di'Fier. "I can't see it any-"

The mud next to the pathway exploded upwards as the creature burst forth, its tail slamming into Dru, tripartate tendrils curling around her and lifting her into the air like a doll.  Her stomach lurched and the cavern swept crazily through her vision as she swung about.  She could hear Di'Fier's spell - his last magic missile - and the thrum of bowstrings. She fought against the tail that held her, but it squeezed and twisted, and everything went black.

Di'Fier saw the limp body drop from the tail to splatter into the boiling mud. "DRU!" he screamed, but there was no answer - just his partner bouyed to the surface by the magic of the ring she wore. His eyes blazed as he turned to the monstrosity before him.  "*Burn*," he commanded, and a bolt of green vitriol shot from his hand into the creature's chest, eating through skin and muscle.

Di'Fier could feel the heat rolling off of the boiling mud.  He knew that nobody could survive it for long.  

He leapt anyway.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Three, Part Four: Altar of False Gods*

The mud grabbed at his skin, burning him through his clothes, but he gritted his teeth and forced his way onward, half walking, half swimming.  The stink of it rose into his nostrils.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of the creature falling, but he only registered it as a swell and subsidance in the substance that surrounded him.

His eyes watered.  He could barely see.

One hand reached out, brushed cloth, and he seized Dru's shirt, dragging her back, fighting his way towards the narrow limestone path.  She was dead weight, unmoving.  _Gods, let her still live!_

The pain was tremendous as the mud blistered his skin, but he forced his way onward through the stinging steam.  Something tapped his hand, and he reflexively grabbed at it, then felt himself drawn forward.  "Get her out!" he shouted.  "Get Dru..."

He felt the weight of her being pulled from his arms, and then hands drawing him forth from the mud.  He heard Shesara singing, but the words danced through his brain without connecting to their meaning. He tried to force a question from his lips, but it would not come, and he struggled to remain conscious in the face of the pain.

The singing stopped, and for a moment, so did the world.

Then he heard a familiar voice. "I don't _like_ this place," it growled.  And he smiled.






The embers of the platform still smoldered when they returned to the temple, sore, wounded, limping.

"What the hell kind of monster has three tails, anyway?  Stupid thing," Dru grumbled.  "_And_ my sword's in the bottom of that mudpit."

"It's a good thing you had the ring on, otherwise you'd have been with it," Di'Fier pointed out.  "I'm not sure I'd have been able to find you in time.  At least you've got Soderheim's sword waiting for you back in Freeport."

Dru grunted, moving towards the smoking ruin.  "We can get through this passage, now, if we want."

"Maybe we should wait until we have rested," Benares suggested.

"I want _off_ of this damned island," Dru snarled, and lifted herself upwards, teeth gritted against the pain of burned skin.  "City of the _Gods_."  Her words held a century's worth of scorn.

Di'Fier looked at his companions helplessly, and moved to follow her.






The passage curved, twisted deep into the rock. She passed warning-stakes topped with skulls, which she smashed as she went by. And then the tunnel ended, at a small room with a crude altar.  Dru could feel her companions behind her, waiting for her anger to subside.

She glared at the altar, looking for an excuse.  It was plain, but for the ancient metal case that stood atop it.  She moved forward, throwing open the latches to reveal the gleam of gold. 

There, in perfect miniature, sat one of the creatures they had fought below, its three tails splayed and its arms stretched outwards.  Its arrow-shaped head looked imperiously across the room, and the tiny specks of rubies seemed to bore into her own eyes.

_Kneel_, it seemed to say.  _Serve us.  You are strong.  You will serve well._

Dru gritted her teeth, the anger boiling within her.  "I...will..._not_!"  She swept the statuette from the altar, flinging it to the floor where chips of the gilded stone scattered across the room.  Di'Fier's blade descended upon it, and a crack spread across its body.  Dru seized the pieces in either hand.  "I _hate_ this island!" she screamed, dashing one against the wall.  "Everything is _giant_ and it tries to _eat_ you or _take over you mind!_"  The second chunk joined the first, shattering again.  "Stupid city! This was supposed to be our way _off_ of this stinking place!" Dru seized the case, battering at the stone with it. "Everybody probably thinks we're _dead_ now because some stupid _b*st*rd_ had to sell us into slavery!"  The statue was little more that powder now, and Dru flung the metal box aside, sinking down to sit on the stone floor.

Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Benares spoke quietly.  "Perhaps...we should rest now."


----------



## Jon Potter

Perhaps this would be a good time for Shesara to play a little music to soothe our resident "savage beast".


----------



## drnuncheon

Just a note on that last update.  Dru, not content to let Di'Fier outdo her in the 'near-fatal wounds' category, just _had_ to go him one better: at the time she was hauled out of the boiling mud and healed, she was at -9 hit points.

J


----------



## DiFier

Yeah after firing off the melf's acid arrow Di'Fier still had a move so I thought well there is nothing He can do.  I was just gonna have him stand there untill his turn came around again at the last second I decieded to have him jump into the mud.   good thing I did huh?


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Yes, _very_ good thing.  


And DrN, that was a very well written temper tantrum.  Very Dru, too.


----------



## Horacio

A greqt update... but that is usual in drnuncheon's story...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Three, Part Five: The Limestone Throne*

"Were we optimistic to think that we'd ever get back home?" Dru poked at the fire with an elongated splinter.

"We will.  Somehow.  We haven't found the wizard yet," Di'Fier reminded her.

"He probably teleported back home."  Dru threw the bit of wood into the flames and watched as they began to lick at it.

"I don't think he would have left his spellbook in Mantru.  Most wizards wouldn't.  No, I think something happened to him."

Benares shifted, sitting up against the wall.  "The villagers said that he went to the City of the Gods, and he took many people with him.  They say those people became the first cannibals."

"If they were looking for something and found that statue," Di'Fier mused, "They might not have been able to resist it, even if the wizard was."

"They probably ate him," Dru muttered.






Di'Fier stretched, his neck popping. "Something came to me while I was sleeping," he began.

"It didn't try to take over your mind, did it?"  Dru asked.

"No...but we never did explore the rest of that cavern."

"Probably filled with stupid three-tailed mud monsters."

"All the same, let's go check it out."

After Di'Fier perused his spellbook, the foursome made their way down to the cavern.  The muggy air and the stench felt like home for the Freeporters, although Benares and Shesara wrinkled their noses and tried not to breathe.  Once agen they wound their way along narrow limestone paths before Di'Fier paused.

"We already _got_ this far, Di'Fier.  This is where I lost my sword."

"I know.  Wait."  The mage raised a hand and shouted forth a summons.  Nothing seemed to answer his call, but he nodded in satisfaction. "Go beneath the surface of the mud and find a sword," he said to the air.  "Bring it back to me."

For long moments, nothing happened.  Then, slowly, something began to float to the surface of the mire.  Dru's blade detached itself from the muck and wobbled through the air to Di'Fier.  Another word from him, and the mud sloughed from the blade, leaving it bright and clean.  He handed it over to Dru. "I never thought I'd use those spells for anything more important than housework," he chuckled as they moved on.

"Looks like the cavern ends," said Dru with disappointment. "No magic portal back to Freeport, just a weird rock that looks kind of like a guy sitting down."  She squinted.  "Wait..."

They moved forward quickly.  "...it _is_ a guy sitting down," Dru said.  "Well, a skeleton.  Turned to stone."

"Not turned to stone, but covered in it," Benares said.  "The water drips from above, with dissolved limestone in it, then evaporates, leaving the stone behind."

"It's too tall tobe an islander," Di'Fier said.  "And it looks like it's got something on its lap."  He tapped the rock experimentally.  "Maybe his spellbook.  Shesara, hand me that thunder rod."

She did so.  "We still don't know how to use- oh," she finished, as Di'Fier brought it down on the stone, cracking it.  Beneath was a sheet of polished metal, incised with runes.

"It's a spellbook, all right!"

Within moments, the rest of the book was freed.  It had fared far better than the one left in Mantru - the slim metal covers had largely sealed out the moisture, and the spells were readable.  "See if he has anything else," Di'Fier suggested, turning pages.

Benares moved forward, motioning Dru to come with him. "If we look carefully, we can see if there are any magical auras on the statue."

"You need a spell for that," Dru told him.

The scholar shook his head, and grinned.  "No spell, just knowing how to look the right way.  The spell is a lazy man's shorthand.  Unfocus your vision..."

Di'Fier glanced up to see Dru and Benares staring intently at the skeleton, while Shesara kept watch.  He shrugged, and returned to his reading.  _I _think_ this is his teleportation spell..._

"Did you see it?"

"There...on the finger?" Dru reached forward, breaking the thin crust of stone.  Beneath it lay a glittering ring.

"Good.  With practice, you'll be able to be more consistant about it...and even get an idea of what spells there are, judging by the aura."

"There was something else.  Down here, at his feet."  Dru fetched the rod, probing at the stone looking for a likely place.  An odd expression came over her face.  "Maybe I'd better be careful about this one.  Do we have anything we could use as a chisel?"

With the help of a knife and the rod, Dru gently chipped away at the soft stone until it fell away.  Gradually, another blade emerged from beneath, the rotted leather of the sheath crumbling away at her touch, leaving the blade stained and mottled.  "Doesn't look like much," she said, squinting at it. "Still got a good edge, though.  Might as well keep it.  Di'Fier, how's that book going?"

"I'll need more time to study it.  But the pages are wrinkling, here, from the humidity.  We should return to the surface."

They trooped back along the paths, pausing once again by the mud pool where they had fought the creatures.  "Maybe we should take a head back to show the people in the village that we've ended the curse."

"I'm not diving in there.  Falling in once was bad enough."

Di'Fier considered.  "Well, as my teacher in conjurations used to say, if you don't want to do the dirty work yourself, summon someone else to do it."  He reached for his components, drawing forth a tiny mud-caked bag and a mostly melted candle, and set to work.

Dru watched the creature materialize from the air to receive its instructions from Di'Fier.  "If you can bring flaming dwarves here from somewhere else, why can't you just send us home?"

"I don't really bring the dwarf, er, the azer," Di'Fier explained.  "The magic...sort of makes a temporary body for them.  If any of the creatures I summon gets killed, they don't really die."

"Sounds handy."

"It's also a lot easier to bring things to you than it is to move them away."

Dru shrugged, watching as the dwarf returned to the surface with little more than a skull - the mud had boiled the flesh away from the bone.  She took it from him as he climbed out of the pit, the mud drying on him almost instantly.

Di'Fier nodded. "You can go now," he said, and the dwarf vanished, leaving behind a brief shower of dried mud.






Later that day, Di'Fier looked up from the book. "I'm not going to be able to _teleport_ us off of the island.  I've been trying to understand the spell, but it's fifth circle, and I'm nowhere near ready for that."

"So we're stuck here for years?" Dru snarled.  "Perfect."

"Not necessarily..."


----------



## drnuncheon

*Volunteers needed*

Five brave beings with regular access to e-mail are needed as I begin my planning for Book Three.  Get a peek at the future and be immortalized in drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour.

Interested people please email with your name, profession, and favorite member of the Freeport Special Crimes Unit: Katya Lukin, Quooral Stonecypher, Ashrem, Glunnyn Mernig, or Jemis.

Offer not eligible to current players in the Freeport campaign.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

I have three...two more!  I know I've got at least two more people reading this!

Hopefully I have at least two more people reading this...

J
Bueller?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Three, Part Six: A Different Kind of Half-Dragon*

"Makaukau..._huki!_"  

The crunch of sand under wood.

"Makaukau..._huki!_"

Shouts and running feet.

"Makaukau..._huki!_"

The villagers haul on the ropes again.  From the mouth of a cavern emerges a fanged, menacing face: a snarl frozen in time, caught forever in wood.  The paint has weathered almost away, but the dragon's head carving remains.






"You're sure this will work," said Dru, eyeing the ship dubiously. 

"Makaukau..._huki!_"

The ship, oddly stunted, slid out into the sunlight.  Perhaps half its former length, a scar across its belly marked where the splintered wood had been chopped away and the bow and stern rejoined.

"Of course," Di'Fier assured her.  "The spell is strong enough that the wood will break before it does.  It may not look like much, but it's good as new."

The dragon wallowed at the edge of the water, as if resting halfway in.  Supplies from the raider's camp were lifted inside and lashed into place under Benares' direction.

An excited babble of voices - speaking the familiar Common tongue no less - approached them.

"Is that our ship? It's _amazing_!" gushed Jim. 

"I thought he grew up in Freeport," Dru muttered.  "Hello Namfoodle, Fonkin, Volodya.  Where's Unn?"

"Unn has decided to stay here."  Geirstein hopped up the path, balancing himself on the shoulder of a Tanaroan woman.  "She doesn't think she'd be able to make another sea voyage."

Di'Fier looked from him to the woman. "And what about you?"

Geirstein colored slightly.  "I'll be staying as well," he admitted. "There's plenty of one-legged mercenaries back home, and none of them are worth much."  He grinned. "At least here they'll believe me when I tell the story of how I lost it."

"We'll miss you," Dru put in.  "And Unn."

"Maybe we'll make it back someday.  Without a shipwreck," Di'Fier added.

"Everything's ready!" Shesara called from the prow of the ship.

"Then let's _go_," said Dru. "I want to get back home."

The ship slid into the water easily, rocking back and forth as they adjusted their places.

"You're sure this is going to work?" Dru asked her partner.

"Positive."  Di'Fier raised a hand to wave farewell to those remaining on the shore, then turned to the sail.  "_Gethrisj_," he told it, and the wind began to carry them away.


----------



## Vurt

Well, now there's a parable for our times...  Too often we look for a technological answer to our problems (in the story hour: the spellbook with a teleport back home) when really what you need is some good hard work (fix the ship with what you've already got)!

My hat's off to you all!


----------



## Boss

And here I was having visions of Dru talking privately with a soccer ball about the possibilities of returning home...

Awesome job guys!  Yep, I am back after a long hiatus.  And of course, the first thread I jump back on to catch up with was this one (and I had to read Dru and Di'fier's personal story hours as well).  Keep up the great work and know that the empty seat at the edge of the stage has been filled yet again.


----------



## drnuncheon

Vurt said:
			
		

> *Well, now there's a parable for our times...  Too often we look for a technological answer to our problems (in the story hour: the spellbook with a teleport back home) when really what you need is some good hard work (fix the ship with what you've already got)!*




Yeah...yeah...I meant that to be there!

To be fair, the spellbook had some spells that made fixing the ship and sailing it actually possible. (_undaunted fixture_ and _propel craft_ from the Books of Eldritch Might, and _repair ship_ from Seas of Blood.)

J


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Boss said:
			
		

> *And here I was having visions of Dru talking privately with a soccer ball about the possibilities of returning home...
> *




It was a close thing.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Four, Part One: Highgate*

"Ach, those b*st*rds," the captain muttered as the harbor-pilot began steering his ship towards the dock.

"What's that?"  

It was one of the castaways he'd picked up, the elf.  They'd been floating along in some horrible patchwork attempt at a ship, and had filled his own craft with strange tales of an island populated by monstrous beasts.  _I'd not have believed them if it weren't for the teeth she kept as souveniers..._

"That barge, Fahil's."  The captain pointed out the gilded monstrosity.  "My men land next t'that with coin in their pockets, and I'll be missing half or more by the time we're ready to ship out.  I wonder how much he bribes the Pilot's Guild."

The elf nodded studying the sheer cliffs and the city that floated beneath thm. "Tell me.  How would we reach the Temple of Knowledge?"

"That's 'top the cliff.  You'll have to cross Sordadon and take the ferry..."







The ferry-barge floated with majestic, agonizing slowness into the mouth of the cavern.  Lanterns hung about illuminated the place with a soft glow, as workmen loaded and unloaded the flat-bottomed boats for their trips to the harbor city.

"Now where?" Dru said.  "We're supposed to find a lift, whatever that is."  

"Didn't you ask?"

"I didn't want to look like a tourist."

From the back of the cavern, steel rattled.  Slowly, a section of the floor began to rise, lifted up into the air by the metal chains attached to its circumference.  The platform was laden down with crates and people.

"There!" Dru said, dashing forward through a crowd of surprised people.  Di'Fier gaped a minute, then followed her, leaping onto the wood amid angered cries.  A moment later Benares and Shesara joined them.

"Do you two constantly live on the edge?" the bard asked, as Dru leaned over to shout to the stragglers, "We'll meet at the inn!".

"Sometimes we live over it," Di'Fier responded.






Blinking in the sunlight, the foursome slipped out of the marketplace, surrounded by the unfamiliar sights and smells of Highgate.

"I never knew horses smelled so bad," Di'Fier muttered.

"They do when you get this many of them.  If the Captain was right, we need to go to the Temple District."

"Which way is that?"

"Not a clue."

Benares cleared his throat.  "Permit me," he said with a smile. "I _do_ have some small connection with the Temple."

"Lead on, then."

The foursome wound their way through the streets of Highgate.  Looking ahead, Dru scowled. "Benares, that's the city gate."

"The New City gate, actually.  Each of the districts has its own wall, although they're starting to grow together."  The scholar gestured at the shantytown clustered in the shadow of the wall as they passed by.  "It's almost like separate cities now, but given another century of growth that will all change."  He gestured to their right, across a canyon.

"Those ruins are the reason the city was originally founded, before they discovered the adamant ore.  They're older even than the Valossan civilization."

The dusty road curved around the ruins on its way to the Temple district, and they were forced to move aside as a coach rattled past, heraldic arms painted on its doors.  Finally, they passed through Godsgate into the chaos of the Temple District, crossing it on their way to the Great Library.

"Finally," Dru said.  "I don't like this city, they have too many gods."  She shoved open the great doors and stepped inside, and her face lit up to the sound of a terrified squeal and a man diving under his desk for protection.

"Norton!" she cried happily.

_*Compiler's Plug:* This session - as well as the city of Highgate and the town of Kirkwood - brought to you by the kindness of Hal Greenberg and the folks at Thunderhead/Mystic Eye Games, who provided me with a copy of Bluffside: City on the Edge (and who I also owe some reviews to.)  Bluffside is a fascinating product and deserves every bit of praise it has received on these boards._


----------



## Boss

Heh, I thought the description of the city sounded familiar.  Poor Bluffside, I don't think it knows whatexactly is coming...


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *I have three...two more!  I know I've got at least two more people reading this!
> 
> Hopefully I have at least two more people reading this...
> 
> J
> Bueller? *





Don't know if I'm too late to get in on this, but I'd be interested. I'm currently out of town and without email access, but I'll be back in front of my own computer on Sunday night.


----------



## drnuncheon

Boss said:
			
		

> *Heh, I thought the description of the city sounded familiar.  Poor Bluffside, I don't think it knows whatexactly is coming... *




That's "Highgate" (affectionately known as "the other city" since for the longest time it was the only non-Freeport city ever mentioned in the game.) 

It is, however, located in the County of Bluffside (as a nod to its original name).

J


----------



## DiFier

Highgate (bluffside) is a really cool location.  We've just scratched the surface (hahahahaha) of Highgate.  I don't know how much of Highgate is DrN's and how much is bluffside but thumbs upo to the people of Thunderhead/Mystic Eye Games.


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *We've just scratched the surface (hahahahaha)*




The reason for Di'Fier's levity will become clear all too soon as we approach the finale of Book 2...but before that, our heros will spend some time in their hometown, and then journey to Kirkwood, in the Barony of Threehills, to finally meet with Di'Fier's mysterious uncle Jardek.

Yes, that's two short plots and one long one...Book Two is nearly over, and then I get to put down the DM's Screen for a short time and rest* before diving back into Book 3.

J
* - that is to say, finish up the 'Special Edition' of Book One!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Four, Part Two: Return to Freeport*

"I apologize for Brother Norton," Brother Egil said. "If we had known you were coming, we never would have put him on desk duty.  He's still...fragile."

Dru nodded sagely.  "Who wouldn't be, after being trapped in an asylum full of undead?"

Egil opened his mouth as if to say that Norton's frailty had begun much earlier, but then thought better of it.  "Still, yours is a most amazing story.  Shipwrecked on an unknown shore...strange creatures...you must write all of what you remember for the library, when you have time."

"Right now, we'd just like to get word to our families that we're still alive," Di'Fier put in.  "There's a spell, isn't there?"

"There is," Egil admitted, "although of some difficulty, and it requires a connection to the recipient...kinship is of course sufficient."  He hesitated a moment.  "Traditionally there is a donation to the temple...in Freeport I would have foregone it, but the head of this temple is far more strict than Thuron..."

"Oh!" said Dru. "Right."  She reached into her pouch and withdrew a glittering stone. "How's that?"

Egil gaped. "That...will be more than sufficient.  I have only prayed for the spell once today, but I can send for another brother."

Di'Fier glanced at Dru, and said, "The first one is to my mother. It's twenty-five words, isn't it? 'Mother, we were shipwrecked on island, sailed to Highgate.  Need transport to Freeport for..." Mentally, he counted.  _Myself, Dru, Benares, Shesara, Jim, Volodya...the gnomes are staying here..._ "Six people.  Love, Di'Fier."

Egil nodded, and murmured the words into the void.  His eyes unfocused, as he listened for a reply, and then he spoke: "She says that the Guild tried scrying for you, but failed, and that she will meet you at the House of Universal Wizardry tomorrow at eight."  He coughed. "Your father is walking, with a cane, and she sends her love."  His eyes flickered to Dru.

"'Papa,'" Dru dictated. "'was sold into slavery shipwrecked on island full of giant monsters. Killed a dragon.  Safe now in Highgate. Returning home tomorrow.'  How many is that?"

"Twenty-two."

"'Much love, Dru'.  There."  Dru sat back and crossed her arms with satisfaction, as Egil went to fetch another brother.  The newcomer cast the spell after taking Dru's hand, and listened...but slowly, a puzzled expression crept over his face.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "But the _sending_ did not get through."

"What?  What does that mean?"  Dru was halfway out of her seat, fists on the table.

"I...I'm not sure.  It is not the same as if he was dead, it is more...the message seems unable to find him."

_Oh, Papa, what have you done?_ Dru thought.

"Is there...anyone else you would like to send a message to?"

"...no."






"Here, take this," Dru said to the gnomes as they parted ways. "It will help you start up again."

The gnomes' eyes widened at the sight of the glittering gem, and it quickly disappeared into the folds of Fonkin's tunic.  "It should be us paying _you_," he said.  "You rescued us from slavery and brought us back to civilization."

"Don't worry about it."  Dru turned to Jim and Volodya, as the gnomes vanished into the crowd.  "We found buyers for some of the other gems, and we didn't want you to have any trouble getting back to your lives," she said, offering them a pair of purses.

Volodya's eyes brimmed with wetness. "The gnomes were right, we should be paying you.  If ever you need a coachman, you must come to me."

Jim looked wide-eyed at the money.  "Thank you!" was all he said.

"It's about time to get going," Di'Fier said.  "What is it, Jim?"

"I...well, I think I won't be going back with you.  I'm going to take a ship.  I'll buy into the cargo with this, and I'll make enough to pay you back!"

Di'Fier chuckled. "All right.  Be careful, though." He watched as the tiny halfling vanished as well.  "I hope he'll be all right."

"He grew up on the docks, he'll be fine," Dru told him.

The remaining five made their way to the House of Universal Wizardry, in the Wizard's Quarter.

"That would be the Receiving Hall," Di'Fier said, nodding to a door with an arcane symbol inscribed upon it.  "They've got a pattern to the floor tiles there to identify it for people who want to _teleport_ in."

It was a matter of a few moments before the doors opened, and a pair of figures emerged: the slender form of Maga Eleanor, Di'Fier's mother, and the plump roundness of her friend Andolyn.  Di'Fier hugged his mother, and Dru nodded politely to the other mage.  "How's the baking?" she asked.

"Oh, Gendrew's had the most splendid idea for the next banquet," she replied.  "Dancing _tarts_! The pastries, of course, they wouldn't half know what to do with the other kind."

"Lets get you all home," Eleanor said. "Only five, and the chest?"

"The last one's decided to become a shipping magnate.  Well, to try."

"All right, then.  Andolyn, my house, so as not to upset the entire Guildhall?"

"Of course."






"...so we woke up in chains..."

Dru slipped away as Di'Fier began to tell the story.  She would have stayed, but she had to find out what happened to Papa.  _It seems so strange, to be finally back here...I wonder why Hevos' shop is closed up._  Her eyes took in the dinginess of the neighborhood, the trash on the street. _How can it change this much in only half a year?_

Ahead of her, a door opened, and half-a-dozen toughs walked out, laughing and guffawing amongst themselves.  They went into the very next ship.  _Looks like they're collecting protection,_ she thought. _But those were _humans_ - Hellhounds, Finn's men._  Her fingers curled on the handle of her rapier, but she restrained herself.  _No...not until I know what's going on._

Her steps led her inevitably towards the _kesir_.  Even here, the squalor had increased.  The windows on the _hledmalle_, the Street of Glass, pride of the _kesir_, were dingy and unwashed - some cracked or broken.

Her steps became firmer, more purposeful, as she strode through the cowering streets towards the headquarters of the ïlosNa.  Her fist pounded on the door, and it jerked open.

Opened by a half-human.

Dru shoved him aside, bursting into the room as swords shot from their sheaths. Then she felt a hand clutch her arm, and she turned: Alust, gripping her with surprising strength, his eyes blazing.  "We must talk," he hissed, pushing her back towards the door.  "You are no longer welcome here after the way you behaved," he said.  "Vanishing for so long."

Dru, astonished, fell back with him.

"You didn't even send poor Kennic any _flowers_," Alust continued.

"What-?"

"You know how much he likes orchids."  The mage looked left and right, then leaned in. "Now is not the time," he muttered. "Go."

With his robes swirling around his haggard legs, Alust returned to the house, the door closing firmly behind him.

_Something's wrong.  Something's _very_ wrong._


----------



## Jon Potter

*Re: Session Twenty-Four, Part Two: Return to Freeport*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> [B
> _Something's wrong.  Something's _very_ wrong._ [/B]





You can say that again!

Good to see poor old Brother Norten again after so long. And I et he thought that the mainland was far enough to hide!


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Re: Session Twenty-Four, Part Two: Return to Freeport*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> * You can say that again!  *




And again!!!


----------



## drnuncheon

Last night: four hours of running combat.  Our heroes in enemy territory: surrounded, outnumbered, nearly out of spells.  Intense.

Next update: the return of a certain painter!

J
...oh yeah:

"Something's wrong.  Something's _very_ wrong."

There.


----------



## DiFier

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Last night: four hours of running combat.  Our heroes in enemy territory: surrounded, outnumbered, nearly out of spells.  Intense.*




Di'Fier Has 3 spells left.  all 0 level.  resistance, light and read magic.  We are currentlly hiding in a very good spot.  and are debating what to do next.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

We're going to cast that final spell that we have, the "Kill every Enemy within 6000 feet" spell.  Remember?


----------



## DiFier

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *We're going to cast that final spell that we have, the "Kill every Enemy within 6000 feet" spell.  Remember? *




That is one of my scrolls.  I didn't list the 15 odd scrolls I have.  but they are mostly stuff that isn't particurarly useful at this moment.  except for the kill every enemy within 6000 feet scroll.  but I'm saving that for when we are really in trouble.


----------



## drnuncheon

*"Boss" Roberts - email me!*

Boss, my emails to you are bouncing.  Could you drop me another line?

J


----------



## Boss

e-mail on the way... (grumbling at hosting service)


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Four, Part Three: The Painter's Fate*

_Let's see...I dropped the rod and the dagger off at Falthar's...and the pages from the spellbook.  I hope he can tell me who that wizard was...I guess I should check in with Captain Donnach._  It was strange, walking through the doors of the Watch headquarters.  Di'Fier looked around him.  _I never realized how small and dingy they were._  His gaze wandered over the people inside - some new faces, looking at him curiously, and some old, looking at him in shock.  _I guess Father didn't tell them I was back._

"Holy sh*t!" Jaffar swore.  "Di'Fier!  You're alive!"  The swarthy constable approached him like he wasn't sure if he'd vanish or not, grabbing him by the shoulders.  "You made it back!"  His expression abruptly fell. "Now I have to give back the money..."

Di'Fier's eyes widened.  "What money?"

"The pool!" Jaffar wailed, and the rest of the room erupted in laghter.

"Haven't you learned not to bet against us _yet_?"






Flowers.  They lined the walls of the houses in their well-kept ranks, giving the street its name - and those who lived on it the sign of their profession.

_Is this what Alust meant?_ Dru idly pushed the hilt of her rapier upward with her thumb, loosening it in its scabbard.  It _could_ be a trap, after all.

She strode up the walk to a particular house - nondescript, its gardens perhaps lacking a bit for attention - and knocked on the door.  She heard the wooden cover slide away from the peephole, the indrawing of breath, and then the door was flung wide.

"Hello, Nilia," Dru said.  "Is Kennic here?"






Drusilia,

Do not try to follow me.  Us, I should say, as your betrothed has indicated that he will accompany me on my search.  I know that it will be the first thing on your mind when you return to Freeport and find us gone, but you must not.  If Kennic has given this letter to you, then you are not where I believe you to be, and my search will be fruitless.  I pray that this is the case, and we will do everything in our power to return to you if it is so.

I have had my wizards attempt to scry for you, but all have failed.  I know of only one place where you might be that their spells would not be able to find you, and it is there that we will search.

Do not fear for me, daughter, for I brought you forth from that place once before, with no help. Do not plague Kennic with questions about my destination, for he knows no more than you do. Instead, let his advice guide you, for he has been by my side for decades.  While we have had our disagreements in the past, he has always held your best interests in his heart.


Tensin Naïlo 






"How long?" Dru asked.

"More than five months, now," Kennic said sadly.  "And no word.  He did not expect to be gone this long, that much I know."

"What's happened to the _kesir_?  Why aren't you in charge?  I saw _Finns'_ men outside it, collecting protection."

"I was left in charge," Kennic said miserably.  "It was only to be for a short time, until Tensin returned.  But your half-sister played upon her Naïlo blood, gathered some of the younger, more disaffected members to her.  Elves, and even half-humans.  When she made a play for power, it shattered the organization.  Much of the old guard dispersed, to wait for Tensin...or for you."

"Who?"

"The only one I have contact with is Jalin," Kennic told her.  "He's kept up with a few others."  He shook his head.  "I don't know how many can be completely trusted anymore."

"Get Jalin here," Dru said.  "I'll need to speak with him when I get back."

Kennic's brow furrowed.  "Where are you going?"

"I've got to check on some people.  Ones that I _know_ can be trusted.[/i]"






_I wish I could get to the SCU without attracting attention,_ Di'Fier thought.  _They might need my help against whatever's stealing those bodies.  Too bad they're so deeply undercover._

The sound of a wolf-whistle from the front room brought Di'Fier out of his reverie. Pulling his boots off of his desk, he leaned forward to see Shesara making her way across the room towards his office.

"Dru wanted me to talk to you..." she began, closing the door.






"Civilization smells awful," Dru griped as she made her way through the sewers.  Her feet made no splash as she walked along the slow-moving water.  "There's the bars..."

She twisted the sawed bar out of place, slipped through, and replaced it behind her.  _Not far now...past the fake secret door...here we are._  She slipped through the dark entryway, closing the door behind her.

The sound of a sibilant chant floated up the pasageway.  _That can't be right,_ she thought.  _There's too many of them._  Silently, she crept forward, easing her way along the side of the wall, her head easing out into the main room of the former temple...

She found herself staring at a scaled chest in mottled black and yellow.

Dru tilted her face upward...and upward more.  The light semed to dim as the enormous hood spread from the serpentman's neck, making it seem even more gigantic.  Its mouth opened wide, exposing gleaming fangs three inches long.  Its tongue licked the air near her.

The creature turned, its voice cutting across the priest's litany, as it announced a single word: "Dru..."

As one, the assembled body of serpentmen dropped to their knees, bowing to her.

Dru surreptitiously wiped the sweat from her forehead as she proceeded into the room. Heading for the robed priest, she said, "What _is_ all of this?  There were only five of you when I left, now there's...a dozen?  Who is he?" she demanded, pointing to the enormous black form at the entrance.

"More serve...Yig, and Dru," the priest told her.  With a gesture to the oversized guard, he said, "Kreth."

"...I see."  Dru looked around.  At the front of the room, a block of stone was roughly worked into a statue: as yet featureless, but clearly a woman whose legs were the tail of a snake.  Its hands were held above it, supporting the familiar green form of the Jade Serpent of Yig.  Around the walls of the room, a mural, dark and strange.  Serpent people crawling from the earth, Yig teaching them...their cities and temples rising above the jungle.  Strange patterns of light and shadow made half-seen shapes, everpresent, watching.  Dru stopped.  "Who is _that_?"

The pitiful, hunched figure turned to regard her: a man, his hair wild and tangled, his beard the same.  He flinched away from her gaze and whimpered.

Behind her, the priest raised one robed arm.  "Paint," it said.

The figure nodded, shooting a glance at the massive form of Kreth, watching him dispassionately.  "...paint," it agreed plaintively, and turned back to the mural.

"What did you _do_ to that poor man?"

"Paint walls, like house, for glory of Yig, and Dru."

"You can't just..." Dru searched for the words, but abandoned them as she saw that the priest had no understanding of what she was trying to say anyway.  "You're going to let him go, right?"  She hesitated, looking back at the shattered figure.  "Then again, maybe that's not such a good idea..."


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Session Twenty-Four, Part Three: The Painter's Fate*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> The pitiful, hunched figure turned to regard her: a man, his hair wild and tangled, his beard the same.  He flinched away from her gaze and whimpered.
> 
> Behind her, the priest raised one robed arm.  "Paint," it said.
> 
> The figure nodded, shooting a glance at the massive form of Kreth, watching him dispassionately.  "...paint," it agreed plaintively, and turned back to the mural.
> 
> "What did you do to that poor man?"
> 
> "Paint walls, like house, for glory of Yig, and Dru."
> 
> "You can't just..." Dru searched for the words, but abandoned them as she saw that the priest had no understanding of what she was trying to say anyway.  "You're going to let him go, right?"  She hesitated, looking back at the shattered figure.  "Then again, maybe that's not such a good idea..." *




See there are worse things than a horrible death


----------



## Jon Potter

*Re: Session Twenty-Four, Part Three: The Painter's Fate*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *The pitiful, hunched figure turned to regard her: a man, his hair wild and tangled, his beard the same.  He flinched away from her gaze and whimpered.
> 
> Behind her, the priest raised one robed arm.  "Paint," it said.
> 
> The figure nodded, shooting a glance at the massive form of Kreth, watching him dispassionately.  "...paint," it agreed plaintively, and turned back to the mural.
> *



_

drnuncheon, I've said it before and I'll say it again, you are an evil, evil man! _


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Twenty-Four, Part Three: The Painter's Fate*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> drnuncheon, I've said it before and I'll say it again, you are an evil, evil man!  *




Hey, it could be worse!  They take care of you...they feed you...

J
heck, they even wiggle the rats so it looks like they're still alive!


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Re: Re: Session Twenty-Four, Part Three: The Painter's Fate*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Hey, it could be worse!  They take care of you...they feed you...
> 
> J
> heck, they even wiggle the rats so it looks like they're still alive! *




 HeHe... Dont feel too bad Jon, I also painted the walls..._with my own blood_


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Five, Part One: Prelude to a Duel*

The crowd shifted impatiently, jockeying for position as they waited.  Despite the press of elven bodies, the tiny courtyard in the _kesir_ was clear, at least to the borders of the circle chalked inside it.

Voices rose, and the crowd began to part before the line of cloaked and hooded shapes, spears clutched in their gloved hands, that preceded a small knot of elves.  Occasionally, a careless tail would lash from under the darkness of the cloak and vanish.  _What are they?_ the crowd wondered.

At the edge of the circle stood a tall human, the only one present.  The weathered sword slung over his shoulder and the ease with which he moved was enough to convince the rest of the crowd not to object to his presence, or the way he threaded through them to approach the newly arrived group.

"Everything's ready," he said.  Then, in a lower voice, "If there's magic around, try to get...near...me."  He slowed, puzzled, then went on ina more deliberate fashion.  "I'll bet with all these crowds around, you almost feel like a _jongleur_."

_Dru paced impatiently.  Kennic was sure that the people he'd contacted could be trusted...but where were they?  If she was going to take the _kesir_ back from Amalyth, she'd need all the help she could get...

The door shuddered under a pounding fist, and Kennic moved to look through the peephole.  Then he threw it open, admitting the burly form of Jalen, who crossed the room and grappled Dru with a crow of delight.

"You're back!" he said as he released her.  "You'll soon put her and my idiot son to rights."

Dru breathed in. "Alust may be more loyal than you think," she said.  "He's the one who got me to Kennic in the first place."_

The other arrived: haughty, seemingly impervious to the cold stares of the people of the _kesir_.  Somehow, even with the elven blood in her veins, she seemed more out of place than the human that stood a head above anyone else in the crowd.  She was flanked by two elves - one in black, a rapier at his side, and the other in the traditional robes of a Magus.  Behind her, a group of mixed toughs, elven and half-human.

Dru saw Alust turn away, refusing to meet his father's glare.  "Shesara," she said.

The bard moved out into the center of the circle, and raised her arms for silence.  Dru let her gaze wander out over Amalyth's supporters, picking out a familiar face here and there...

_"This establishment is closed."

There was silence in the room as elves and half-humans stared up at her, dice and cards still in their hands, regarding the naked blade in her hand, the set of her jaw, the scar on her face.

She felt rather than saw the door guard move for his blade, and she spun, her rapier piercing him, nailing him to the wall.  He slumped bonelessly as she withdrew it.

"Amalyth no longer has permission to operate in this city."  The rapier swept to cover the other door guard, a half-human.  "You will convey that to her."  Looking out across the small knot of gamblers, her eyes narrowed.  "_Go_," she ordered._

"I present to you, Drusilia Naïlo, _true_ daughter of Tensin Naïlo, who is here to claim what is rightfully hers from the half human pretender, Amalyth.  She comes with those that are loyal to her, and to her father's name."

Dru let Shesara's voice wash over her, ignoring the words.  She looked across the circle at her half-sister.  _I wish I could not see Papa's face in hers._  Papa's face, true, but twisted with scorn, bitterness, and hatred.

_Did she expect the bard?  Will she have someone to speak for her?  The less elven I make her seem, the more the watchers will support me._  Her eyes swept over the impassive crowd as Shesara declared the grievances against Amalyth: faces she had known since childhood.  Would they support her? Or had one of Tensin's daughters poisoned them against the other?  _If only Papa were here..._

_"These are the elven names that I found - the ones that took ship during the two-week period your father and Galanodel left in."

It was strange, hearing Di'Fier's voice coming from the mouth of an elf - strange, but necessary.  It wouldn't do for a Watch-Lieutenant to be seen with one who aspired to head the Naïlo organization.  Even if they _had_ been partners for years.

Di'Fier pushed the paper across the table to Dru and Shesara, who regarded it with interest.

"I doubt he's disguised himself as a woman," Dru said.

"I wanted to be complete."

Shesara's brow furrowed as she studied the paper.  "Silathenial?" she said, pointing to a name: Aust of Silathenial.

"Mountain-home," Di'fier said.  "Sounds more dwarven than elven."

"It's a myth.  A legend...old enough that the original songs about it have been forgotten.  It's mentioned in some of the oldest tales I know.  A city underground, a city of elves and dwarves.  'Searching for Silathenial' is an old expression for a fruitless quest."

"Silathenial," Dru said.  "If it does exist, it must be shielded from magic somehow...and I'll bet it's where Papa thinks I am."_

Shesara lowered her hands, stepping back to the side of the circle.  There was a pregnant pause, before Amalyth herself stepped forward, her grey eyes flashing.

"You have heard what my _half-sister_ has to say," she began. "I reject those accusations.  I fling them in the face of the one who walked away from her father, who abandoned him and the _kesir_ in favor of the Guard."  She stepped to her circle, her blades sliding into her hand, their edges catching the light.  "I fought for my position while she walked away from it...and I will fight for it again."

Di'Fier leaned in to Dru.  "I've checked her out.  She's not using any magical items.  You should be OK."

Dru nodded, unbuckled the belt of her rapier, and handed it to him. "Kennic," she said, her hand outstretched.

The older elf placed another blade in her palm.

Dru ran her thumb over the blunted practice blade, made sure the cap was firmly attached to its tip. With a mocking half-smile, she raised the blade in a salute, and stepped forward into the ring.


----------



## DiFier

2 Things. 

Dru didn't respond to Di'Fier's jongleur comment.   She actually did respond (right?) 

What about the detect magic part?


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *2 Things.
> 
> Dru didn't respond to Di'Fier's jongleur comment.   She actually did respond (right?)
> 
> What about the detect magic part? *




The jongleur bit will be explained in a future update.  The detect magic part...good point. I'll need to add that in.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Session Twenty-Five, Part One: Prelude to a Duel*

D'oh.  Meant to hit 'edit' not 'quote'.


----------



## DiFier

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Last night: four hours of running combat.  Our heroes in enemy territory: surrounded, outnumbered, nearly out of spells.  Intense.
> *




Hmm, wait, lets see.  This weekend was much of the same as last weekend.  the running combat continued.  now we are even lower on spells.  the "kill every enemy with in 6000 feet" scroll didn't work; everyone saved.   

With all the combat we've seen lately we are probablly about to level again.  Also with the combat game sessions are going slow and Dr. N should be catching up in the story hour.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Five, Part Two: Unexpected Revelations*

The blade flashed across the ring, leaving an all-too familiar line of red across Dru's left arm.  Amalyth's supporters erupted in a cheer, and she cursed the loss of her magic buckler as she circled warily.  _"Be sure not to become too dependent on your toys,"_ Papa had said.

"What's the matter, _sister_? Lost your stomach for the fight?" The play of the blades in Amalyth's hands was pure Tensin.

"_I didn't want to destroy you without evening the odds,_" Dru replied in the tones of High Elven.  "_Some people have honor._"  She moved forward, but Amalyth's blades turned her own aside.

"_Honor?_"  Amalyth's laugh was hollow.  "_If you had any sense of that you wouldn't be trying to take away what I fought for._"

Dru probed her defenses again - no.  That second blade let her parry and counter.  She needed to do something about it.  "_You seem to be doing an adequate job of losing it on your own.  I suppose one could expect no better from a half-human._"

A smirk spread across her half-sister's face.  "_You think my human blood is a flaw? Look to yourself, sister._"  She parried Dru's attack and continued.  "_My mother was as elven as you. I got my human blood from _both_ parents. Why do you think our father hid me away, sister? I was evidence of his own failing, his own deceit.  What did he tell you?_"

Dru hesitated. _She's trying to shake me._  She thrust, but that damned second blade turned her rapier, and a line of red opened on her stomach.

"_Think about our father, sister.  Doesn't he look _old_ for an elf?  That's his human blood showing..._"







"I've gotten a description of the elven passengers on the ship with this 'Aust of Silathenial'," Di'Fier told them.  "This one, Antiphia Laphchas, was a woman. I think we can discount her."

"So that leaves...Laucimol Revanthirasku, and Aust of Silathenial himself."

"Right.  And the purser of the ship said that Revanthirasku scared the wits out of him once, like he appeared out of nowhere."

"Galanodel.  Meaning that Tensin is Aust, just as we thought."

"That's the problem.  Aust isn't elven - at least, not completely.  He's a half-elf."

"He'd never do that," Jalen said.

"He sired one," Dru muttered. "Why not disguise himself as one?"

Di'Fier continued. "He was about the right height, but with long brown hair in tight curls, and a goatee.  He wore round spectacles, tinted purple, and..."

"...carried a cane, even though he didn't need it to walk," Dru finished.

"You know him?"

_A cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows.  Upon closer inspection, he was a half human, with long, dark hair.  Purple tinted glasses perched on his nose, and he was carrying a cane.  It was better than any ordinary cane, Dru noticed, because there was a sharp blade protruding from the end of it.   She saw the him look her over, and then look back at Meris.  Calmly, he stepped in between them.   "Run," he told her, firmly.  "Go to safety."

Dru didn't need to be told twice.  She heard Meris cry out in pain, and then the clashing of weapons against one another._

"Papa..." she said softly.






Di'Fier stared at the fight.  _Gods...poor Dru...if her sister's telling the truth..._

Movement from across the ring caught his eye - someone was watching him, not the fight.  Alust?  As Di'Fier watched, the elven mage turned his palm upward.  In it was a dagger.

_What is he trying to tell me?_

Eyes fixed on Di'Fier, Alust passed a cloth handkerchief over the blade, mouthed a word - and Di'Fier understood.






Amalyth smirked as the barb slid home, and moved forward, her daggers weaving a deadly pattern in front of her.  _Now it will be easy,_ she thought to herself.

A blade licked out like the tongue of a snake, opening another line of red.  She could hear her supporters cheering behind her. _You will suffer, sister, for all that you had, all that I ever wanted._

She was unprepared for the savage figure that arose, beating her blades away, the dulled edge of its practice rapier slapping her across the face.  Its breath hissed out in a savage warning as it pressed the attack, lines of pain following its every blow.

Amalyth backpedaled.  _No...I can't let her win...not now..._.  Desperately she feinted, saw the eyes flick towards the blade.  _I still have her,_ she thought, launching herself forward.  Her dagger sank deep into Dru's side, and red stained her sister's clothing.

Then the hilt of the rapier was smashing into her face, and she was reeling backwards, blood flowing from her nose. She stumbled, and Dru was upon her, smashing her again and again with a metal-covered fist.  Dimly, she heard her blades ringing on the cobbles as she fell to her knees.  _It wasn't supposed to go like this..._

She felt her head yanked back, and saw the gleam of one of her blades in Dru's hand.






Dru let her half-sister crumble to the cobbles, then opened her hand, tossing aside the long locks of hair that had once adorned Amalyth's head.  "_Whenever you look at yourself, you will remember that I beat you._"  She thrust the dagger into her belt.  "_From now on, you will no longer be known as Amalyth, 'beautiful daughter'.  You will be Delathin, 'bitter-child'._"

Di'Fier was at her side, holding a vial - no, two, one for each combatant.  Dru drank hers gratefully, watching the wound on her arm fade to a thin white line that joined the dozens of others.  She watched as Di'Fier stooped to pick up the other dagger, turned it over in his hands.  "What's wrong?"

In answer, the mage passed his hand over the blade, chanting.  There was no obvious effect, but he looked at it with satisfaction.  "There was a glamour on the blades," he said.  "A spell protecting them from detection.  I have dispelled it.  I think you'll find if you check them now, they will prove to be magical, not mundane."

Dru looked coldly at the crumpled form of her half-sister, crouched down beside her, lifting her head by the remnants of her shorn hair.  "_Elves do not slay their kin,_" she informed Delathin.  "_A true elf would understand that no matter how much humanblood flowed in their veins._"  She rose, fixing the small knot of Amalyth's supporters with her glare.  "_This is what you have chosen to follow.  Remember your mistake, because you will not be allowed to repeat it.  You have two choices: walk away now, or swear your fealty to me...and through me, to my father._"






Di'Fier rested his boots on his desk.  The office was every bit as tiny as it had been before, but somehow it felt far too large and empty when he was the only one inside of it.

The SCU had returned, their necromancer dealt with, and for once there was relative peace in the city.  _I guess I should check out these messages that have been backed up,_ he thought, pulling the stack over to him.

A knock at the door, and Kiva's head appeared.  "Visitor, Lieutenant."  

Di'Fier looked up in surprise.  "Dru?"

His old partner stepped in, closing the door behind her.  She laid a parcel on his desk.  "I stopped in to thank you for helping me out with Am...Delathin."

Di'Fier sliced the string with his knife, unfolding the cloth wrapping to expose the silvery links beneath.  "Is it...?"

"Mithril.  One of Delathin's supporters left it behind - a half-elf.  You might need to get it resized."

"It's beautiful," Di'Fier breathed. "But..." He let it sink back to the desk.  "I'm still my own person.  Not on anyone's payroll."

Dru nodded. "It's a thank you, not a bribe."  She hesitated a moment, watching the mage.  "Di'Fier...at the duel, why did you ask me about jongleurs?"

Di'Fier raised his head, looking at her for a long time.  Finally, he closed his eyes and looked away.  "Dru..." he began.  "The entire time you've been in this office, you haven't blinked."


----------



## Greg Dickens

Your cliffhangers are getting better for you worse for us.  I thought about not posting as to make you angry and post again but thought better of it.  Keep up the great work.


Greg Dickens


----------



## Jon Potter

*Re: Session Twenty-Five, Part Two: Unexpected Revelations*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Di'Fier raised his head, looking at her for a long time.  Finally, he closed his eyes and looked away.  "Dru..." he began.  "The entire time you've been in this office, you haven't blinked." *




What the heck does THAT mean?

Influence of the Jade Serpent? Some kind of stimulant? Has Dru been replaced with a construct?  

At any rate, great lesson-teaching combat in the ring! And, as always, I'm looking forward to more.


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Re: Session Twenty-Five, Part Two: Unexpected Revelations*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *At any rate, great lesson-teaching combat in the ring! And, as always, I'm looking forward to more. *




I agree


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Five, Part Three: Sailing to Highgate*

The bow of the ship slapped against the water, and Di'Fier stood, his eyes searching for the cliffs that were far beyond the horizon.

 The message had come in while he was away, buried in the stacks of mail...

_To Di’Fier, Magus of the 4th Circle, greetings.

Your uncle, Jardek Anton, Baron Threehills, Magus of the 6th Circle, is greatly desirous of seeing you at once.  It is my sad duty to inform you that your uncle’s health is failing swiftly, and he has expressed his wish to meet you at least once before he passes away.  I hope that this message finds you before such travel becomes impossible.

The baron has enclosed a draft upon his funds that should be sufficient to pay for your travel from Freeport to his manor.  I urge you to find the fleetest ship possible and take passage for Highgate posthaste.  The regular carriage route that passes through Threehills leaves but once a fortnight, so I ask that you rent a private coach to convey you here with all possible speed.  If the funds are insufficient please know that you will be more than recompensed upon your arrival.

Your uncle has instructed me to beg of you that you again not speak to the rest of your family of this matter—he fears that they would only prevent you from making this journey.

As one who is not only a servant of the Baron, but also counts himself a friend, I beg of you to come for your Uncle’s sake.

  Ivanior Liadon, 
  scribe & lindëvéra
  on behalf of Jardek Anton, 
   Baron Threehills_


Beside him, Dru stood, gazing out at the same water.  Far above her, the sails flapped inthe wind as the ship began to tack.

"_Gods damn you, Mister Frithoff!  If we miss stays I'll have your hide!_"

The captain had been in a foul mood ever since they had set out - but the smuggler was the only one crazy enough to set sail for Highgate with the rainy season coming on.  _It's probably a good thing he's got a whole new crew,_ Dru reflected.  _The old ones might have been a bit resentful, seeing how many of them we had to kill._  Her eye traced the faint scars still on the deck from Di'Fier's _ice burst_.

_We were barely in Freeport a week,_ she thought to herself.  _And here we are off again._ She was abruptly conscious of the fact that once again, she hadn't been blinking, and she forced her eyes to close and open again.  _Maybe we'll find Garto in Highgate.  Even if he doesn't know what to do about the statue, maybe he can find someone who does._ She forced her thoughts away from the disturbing change, and thought instead of the organization...






Sehanoarun's was quiet, empty but for the two people in the back: the burly elf known as Jalin, sitting across from the new _de facto_ leader of the Naïlos.

"I'm going to Highgate," Dru told him.

"I expected you to go after him."  Jalin uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, resting his scarred fists on the table.  Looking into her unblinking eyes, he said, "Don't go. You're a good fighter, but...if he hasn't returned, you're not going to stand a chance."

Dru looked away, studying the intricate carvings on the bar.  "He may be determined not to leave until he can find me," she replied.  "I can't just leave him."

"What about the people here? They need someone, after what Amalyth did.  Kennic - he's too soft." He trailed off as Dru turned her unblinking gaze on him.  His lips pursed, and he admitted, "And I'm too rough."

"I know," she said quietly.  "That's why I'm leaving _both_ of you in charge."






Deep below, in the hold of the ship, scales rubbed against scales.  S'karat surveyed his people.  None of them liked this strange box that jumped and swayed - even though the food was plentiful and easy to catch. They coiled and writhed in an enormous tangled ball for comfort, their cloaks discarded.

_It is the will of Yig,_ he reminded himself.  _The will of Yig, and Dru._


----------



## Jon Potter

Excellent!

And very creepy image of the serpent folk below deck.


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Twenty-Five, Part Three: Sailing to Highgate*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *It is the will of Yig, he reminded himself.  The will of Yig, and Dru. *




I just love it!!!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Six, Part One: On the Trail*

Di'Fier sat back in the chair.  It was strange, being the one awake while Dru was in her trance.  He looked down at the ring on his left hand, rubbed it unconsciously with his thumb.  _And I can see why Marcen was having problems with his wife, if he was up until all hours all the time._  The lack of hunger was something he'd have to get used to as well.

He reached for a tome, flipped through it, but somehow he couldn't concentrate.  The coach to Threehills left in a few hours, but it wasn't his relatives that were occupying his mind...






"I'm very sorry, but I can't just reveal the business of a member of the League to anyone who walks in."

The headquarters of the Trader's League was surprisingly small for a city the size of Highgate: a modest building in the center of the New City, near the lifts to Cavern Harbor.  Normally, it was occupied by a handful of clerks.  At the moment, the building was up one human, and one angry elf.

Dru leaned on the desk, hands curled into fists, eyes narrowed.  "Why _won't_ you tell me?  Are you hiding something?"

"Uh, Dru..." Di'Fier muttered. "No badges here, remember?"

Dru glanced back at him.  "I wouldn't _need_ to get angry if he'd just tell me what I wanted," she said.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."  

The unsaid words, _before I call the Guard_, hung in the air between Dru and the clerk.  She considered them for a while, then spun on her heel and left.

Outside, she stormed along the street so swiftly that DiFier had to jog to catch up to her, before his long legs could settle into the proper pace.  Without even glancing at him, she fumed: "He was willing enough to tell me that this 'Aust of Silathenial' was a member of the League, and that he sold 'antiquities', whatever the hell that means.  Why would he just clam up like that?"

"He probably thinks you're working for a competitor.  Or a bill collector."

"All I wanted to know is who might buy these 'antiquities'...what?"  

Di'Fier had slowed, then stopped, and pointed up at the sign: _Curiosity Shop_.

"I guess it's worth a try."






"Who is this?" the old man asked slowly.  "And why have you brought him here?"

He was nothing much to look at, the old man: skinny and pale and white of hair - what hair remained.  But even so, both of the men before him could not help but tremble at his words.

The younger man stepped forward.  "He is a cataloger, Grandfather.  At one of the archeological digs.  He is repaying his debt to us with artifacts."  He pulled the other man forward, roughly, by the arm.  "Tell him what you told me," he ordered.

"I...I just wanted...to...to warn you that I'm being watched," the man stammered.  "There...there were people asking about, about buying artifacts before the museum got ahold of them." He lowered his eyes. "I...I think they know about our deal."

The younger man seized the cataloger by the scruff of the neck.  "_Describe_ them," he demanded, through clenched teeth.

"The...the one who did the talking was an elf, a woman, but with a scar on her face.  Black hair, cut short...the man was a human, with a big sword over his shoulder...he didn't talk much.  I think they were Guardsmen, the museum must have found out somehow..."

"You may go.  The matter will be dealt with."

The cataloger stumbled from the room in relief, as the one who had brought him looked at the old man.  "They match Ulric's descriptions."

"I do not think they have come to investigate a few missing pots.  Find out what they are _really_ doing here."


----------



## Jon Potter

*Nice! Short. But nice!*

Now you've got my interest in Highgate... err... Bluffside, I mean... piqued.

I've added it to my (rather lengthy) to-buy list.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Nice! Short. But nice!*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Now you've got my interest in Highgate... err... Bluffside, I mean... piqued.*




Like Freeport, you'll find that I made several minor changes here and there, but I did my best to keep the feel of the city from the book.  One thing I've done is try to make the city older, the area feel a bit more established.  It was a border city at one time, now it is a (if not _the_) major metropolis in the western part of the Empire as the borders expand.  Another major change you'll notice are the lack of some of the more unusual races from that book - the nevae, sixam, and dragori - for various campaign reasons.  The third (and this one should come as no surprise) is the replacement of the existing criminal underworld with the Dragon's Claw.

Anyway, it's definitely a worthwhile supplement, for the variety of stuff it contains and a picture of a city that is unusual and unique without being outright bizarre.

J


----------



## DiFier

*Re: Session Twenty-Six, Part One: On the Trail*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *The cataloger stumbled from the room in relief, as the one who had brought him looked at the old man.  "They match Ulric's descriptions."
> 
> "I do not think they have come to investigate a few missing pots.  Find out what they are really doing here." *




Oh we're really gonna have to kill Ulric now.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

*Re: Re: Session Twenty-Six, Part One: On the Trail*



			
				DiFier said:
			
		

> *Oh we're really gonna have to kill Ulric now. *





Did you ever doubt it?    I always knew that we were going to have to kill Ulric.  Especially now that we - well, I shouldn't give any spoilers...


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Six, Part Two: Threehills Manor*

The coach rattled and jerked over the highway - the road falling into disrepair the farther it got from Highgate.

"Dru."

"What?"

"We _will_ find him."

Dru looked back at Di'Fier.  Even in the dim light of the coach she could see his expression: sincerity and determination, the same qualities that had made her trust him with her life so often on the Watch.

She looked away, out the window, at the twilight landscape rolling by. "I just hope he's still alive."

"Plenty of people saw Aust.  The dwarf in the weapons shop, the staff at the Sojourn Tavern..."

"That's what worries me.  More people saw him and Galanodel in a week than ever saw them in Freeport.  It makes me wonder if he was using it to cover up...something else.  Some other tracks."

The steady thud of hooves on the roadway began to slow, and the wood of the coach-frame creaked around them.  Looking out the window, Dru saw windows glowing with a cheery light, shining through the gathering darkness.  The coach rolled to a stop, and the coachman descended, opening the door and flipping down the step.

"Which it is time for dinner, and there's no goin' on tonight," he told them.  "Not with as dark as it is."

"Thank you," said Di'Fier, stepping down.  "Why don't you have the stableboy look after the horses, and come and have a drink with us?"

"That's uncommon kind of you, sir," the coachman said, tipping his hat.  "I'll see to that, I will."

A few minutes later, they were installed at one of the inn's long tables, trenchers of meat and potatos steaming before them.

"I can't believe beef is so cheap here," Di'Fier muttered.

"Which it is, which it is," the coachman responded, setting down his drink and licking the froth from his moustache. "As compared to Freeport, that is."  He grinned. "Sussed your speaking, but I can't say as I ever took nobody to Threehills from Freeport."

"We're traveling to visit the Baron," Di'Fier told him, and the coachman's eyes widened.

"The _cursed_ Baron?"

"I knew this wasn't going to be simple," Dru observed.






_Which it is a terrible thing, this curse,_ the coachman told them over another mug of ale.  _And worst of all because it took his wife, and she such a pretty one - but I'm running ahead, because it _started_ with the eldest boy, him falling sick and all, terrible sick, and having to stay indoors all the time and never go out until he died.  He'd have been about your age, sir, was he to live.  And then there was the twins, all sudden-like, one right after t'other. And the littlest boy after that.  It was like to break a mother's heart, which it did to my mind, which it did, as they say she did away with herself in such a way as was so horrible that one of the servants took mad and has not been well since.  

Thank you, sir, I _will_ have another ale, and uncommon kind of you it is, for this is thirsty work.  

Well, sir, after the...let me think...after the twins died, there was seen a ghost or spirit of some kind roaming the land each night.  Some say as it was the one hunting the Baron and his family, but my cousin says as he saw the Baron order it and it listened, so I reckon he brought it to protect them, seeing as how he was a wizard and all.  Which it did no good, mind, because it was after that that the youngest boy died, but then again the Baron has lived these five years or more since..._






The sun was setting behind them, stretching their shadows far before them on the road, when the coachman leaned down and knocked on the window.  "Beggin' your pardon, sir, ma'am, as we're just coming up to the manor now."

Di'Fier thrust his head impatiently from the window as they approached. The manor was wood over a base of weathered stone, standing on the headland that sloped from the mountains around Highgate, three day's journey to the west, slowly down to the ocean.  Even here the rocky cliffs were nothing to trifle with.

Di'Fier frowned.  The manor had seen better days, that was clear.  The last vestige of whitewash was gone from the walls, and moss clung to the stones as ivy snaked up the side of the house.  A smaller, separate building - a carriagehouse, perhaps - had once stood nearby, but it lay in an untidy sagging pile, as if it had collapsed from exhaustion.

Di'Fier didn't wait for the step to be flipped down: he jumped to the ground, leaving the coachman to fetch their bags, and strode up to the front door, knocking rapidly upon it.

After a few moments, the door swung open to reveal an elf garbed in dusky black.  The elf bowed.  "May I help you?"

"My name is Di'Fier.  I've come to see my uncle."

At those words, the elf's face transformed from haughty indifference to a lok almost akin to sympathy.  "I see.  Please, come in," he said, with a glance towards Dru. "You did not receive the message, then?"

"No..."

"I am afraid that your uncle has gone quite beyond the cares of this world."


----------



## Vurt

Not to take anything away from the story itself, Doc, but your writing style has been steadily improving, what with all this practice and all.    Keep it up!

Vurt


----------



## Jon Potter

Vurt said:
			
		

> *Not to take anything away from the story itself, Doc, but your writing style has been steadily improving, what with all this practice and all.    Keep it up!
> 
> Vurt *





I second that, wholeheartedly!

It's a great read, and one that I look forward to immensely. That's my not-so-subtle way of saying: More! More!


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Session Twenty-Six, Part Two: Threehills Manor*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *"I am afraid that your uncle has gone quite beyond the cares of this world." *




Ahhh, so now Di'Fier & Dru will have to solve the mystrey of the Baron's death, it all sounds very Ravenloft to me


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: Session Twenty-Six, Part Two: Threehills Manor*



			
				Zarthon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Ahhh, so now Di'Fier & Dru will have to solve the mystrey of the Baron's death, it all sounds very Ravenloft to me  *




Actually, the poor old guy has been deathly ill ever since he was first introduced, way back before they got shipped off to the Isle of Dread.

There's plenty of _other_ mystery, though...

J


----------



## Jon Potter

*Re: Re: Re: Session Twenty-Six, Part Two: Threehills Manor*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> There's plenty of other mystery, though...
> 
> J *





Err.... Is one of those mysteries: What happened to the next post?  

Di'Fier and Dru both boast about a fantastic running battle that spanned two gaming sessions, you hint about mysteries to puzzle over, and then...

Nothing.

DrN, where are you?


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Six, Part Three: Tears in the Night*

"Please, come in," the elf repeated.  "Gaberk has set off to Highgate with another message for you...you must have all but passed him on the road."  The elf stepped aside, gesturing them into the shabby hallway.  "I am Ivanior Liadon, the late Baron's personal musician."

_Not with a stance like that,_ Dru thought, noting how the elf moved, how he watched their every movement with the peculiar tension of one who lived by the blade.  _The late Baron's bodyguard, maybe...or assassin._

"Di'Fier," the young mage said again.  "My friends Dru Naïlo and Shesara Nareshnae."  He turned to look ddown the hallway.  Bare and a bit dusty, the wooden floorboards were uneven under his feet.  Squares of a fainter shade on the wall showed where paintings and other things once hung.

"I will have Tomas ready the Baron's room then," Ivanior said with a slight bow. "And the ladies may stay in mine."

Di'Fier loked at Dru, and she cleared her throat.  "I have a..." Words failed her for a moment. "A retinue," she decided, "coming on foot.  They should be here in a couple of days.  A dozen."

Ivanior's face fell into a pained expression.  "_Malcis_, but we have no rooms for so many..."

"Oh, they don't need much.  We can probably put them in the barn."  Dru ignored the curious looks from the elf, looking instead down the hall to where a door was opening.

"What _is_ all of this?" demanded the young man who emerged.  Di'Fier's age, perhaps, but nowhere near his height, and possessed of a natural swarthiness rather than the mage's sun-baked skin.  A furious black moustache bristled on his upper lip, and he carried himself like a bantam rooster.

"Ah," said Liadon.  "The other gentlemen who has arrived to avail himself of the late Baron's hospitality.  Di'Fier Anton, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Sir Manuel di Garan."

"Anton?  _Anton_?" 

Di Garan's expression demanded an explanation, and Liadon was more than happy to provide it. "The late Baron's nephew through his sister, Eleanor."

"Hmph."  di Garan looked Di'Fier up and down, then vanished back into his room, the door slamming behind him.

"Pleasant fellow," Di'Fier observed.

"If it is not too forward, we all hope that he will be greatly disappointed upon the reading of the will."

"We all?"

"Ah, yes, the other members of the household.  Gaberk, the majordomo, will have to wait until he returns from the city, but Tomas and Gina are here in the kitchens..."







"...this, the late Baroness' room." Liadon laid a hand gently on the door.  "_Loman langena_, Elena.  _Ilekaimuva,_" he murmured.

Dru's brow furrowed.  _Was that some strange continental elven way of saying 'rest in peace'?  It sounded more like a request of her than of the gods..._ She glanced to Shesara, who shared the same puzzled look, but Ivanior was already moving on.

"It was sealed at the Baron's order just after her death, five years ago.  And this, my own room."  His head tilted to one side, listening.  "The dinner bell.  Whatever you may think of the Baron's hospitality, it will surely be kinder after you have tasted Gina's cooking."






The three of them clustered in Liadon's room - a room carefully devoid of personality.  No decorations hung on the walls, no personal effects: just table, chair, a pair of chests, and a bed made with almost military precision.

Shesara sat down on the latter.  "He was hired for his skill with a blade, not with a violin," she stated.

"Really? I thought he was rather good," Di'Fier said.  "Especially that part where he made it sound like it was crying."

"It was not normally part of that song."

Di'Fier shrugged, looking around the room.  "I wonder if things began to walk off on their own, after my uncle fell sick.  Still, it looks like the library is intact.  I think I'll go look it over before I go to sleep."

He left, and Dru closed her eyes, slipping into the reverie of her people, wandering the corridors of memory until a voice pulled her forth.

"Dru," Shesara hissed insistently.  "Dru!"

Dru's eyes opened, then narrowed again.  Where her head rested by the wall, she could hear faint muffled sobs from the other side.  "Come on," she said, rising to her feet and flinging the door open.

They found Di'Fier in the library.  "We've got a situation," Dru said without preamble.  "The bedroom we're in is next to the locked room.  We heard a woman crying in there."

Di'Fier closed the book he was reading.  "Haunted?"

"What if it's _not_?"

A scream echoed from downstairs.


----------



## drnuncheon

There we go...

As for the running battle, I am (embarassed look) about seven and a half sessions behind in my updating.  The running battle is part of the _next_ plot thread (the last one in Book Two!  Based on an adventure by Monte Cook!  Don't miss it!)

I guess I should also mention that the current adventure is based on "The Legacy of Threehills", an entry into the Haunted House category of Eric Noah's Adventure Design Contest, so much credit to Corey Reid for what formed the basis of this plot before I got done twisting it.

J


----------



## DiFier

Luckily Dr. N will have lots of time to catch-up with the freeport story hour.  After this friday we should be done with book 2.  and then I will be running an adventure.  while Dr. N rests and then prepaeres for book 3.  

I'll do a write up of my adventure in a brand new story hour.  

So far Dru's playing an aasimar rogue/paladin and Dr. N is playing a wizard/guild mage.  I was debating including my roomate but I'm still scarred from last time.   when he played an evil teifling sorecerer.   

looking back it is very funny but at the time it was not. the group was:
me: neutral human bard who liked to seduce elven women.
Dru: evil human cleric (maybe with some rogue?) 
MB: evil elven (tho he disquised himself) Chef (rogue or expert?) He was enormous and always eating.  would wonder off in search of food.  and 
My roomate: Evil teifling sorcerer.  Hid treasure from rest of group.  casts darkness as soon as any enemy showed up.  (usually getting the group.) He was anti-social and would wonder off.  He also purposely sapatoged the group once by yelling something that he knew would scare off the NPC before we could talk to him. 

We didn't get very far with that adventure.  I almost had my charachter shoot my roomate's charachter with his bow, (the sabatoge incident) but I let myself cool down before we continued.  Should have done it but we were trying to keep the group form self destructing.  It didn't work.  I'm trying to remember exactly what happened so that I can write up the adventure cause it is really funny almost 2 years later.  

luckily after that group is when we started freeport.


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *There we go...
> *




Ask and you shall receive, I guess.

Thanks for the update! I can't wait for Dru's retiune to arrive; that should raise a few eyebrows!

I remember Legacy of Threehills. you must have done some major twisting indeed to challenge PCs of Dru and Di'Fier's calibre. I look forward reading more.


----------



## Jon Potter

BTW, I meant to ask much earlier than this, but what's the deal with that spell Di'Fier used in the cannibal camp on the Isle of Dread? The Fireball that wasn't, I mean. Was it Fireball damage, Flaming Sphere area of effect? That's how it seemed when reading it. Has Di'Fier "accidentally" created a new spell? Fire Sphere? Flaming Ball? (That second one doesn't sound quite right.)

Anywho, if he can duplicate the effect - which so far I haven't seen him do - it would likely be a lot more useful than a true Fireball in an urban setting. Much less collateral damage with a small sphere that you can mentally direct than with a honking big spread of searing death. Although the latter certainly has its applications.


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *BTW, I meant to ask much earlier than this, but what's the deal with that spell Di'Fier used in the cannibal camp on the Isle of Dread? The Fireball that wasn't, I mean.*




Ahh, one of my forays into the stack of "d20 Stuff I Haven't Used Yet" - in this case, the 'Chaos Magic' rules from Fantasy Flight's Spells & Spellcraft.  I don't think Di'Fier has all of the information, so I won't get down to specifics, but essentially the way it  works is that when the spell is cast, it varies in both form and intensity.  In this case, it could have turned out to be a _fireball_ (which it didn't), a _flaming sphere_ (which it did), or something else - I don't recall all of the variations, but I think _fire orb_ from T&B was on the list of possibilities, maybe _explosive cascade_ from Magic of Faerun.  It also could have positive or negative mutations - metamagic feats and the like.

So, by casting the third-level spell, Di'Fier could wind up with anything from absolutely nothing (as the spell just falls apart) to, say, an empowered _explosive cascade_ that goes off without him losing the spell slot.  Di'Fier being Di'Fier, he didn't use them much, preferring to have the 'sure  thing' of known spells.

Anyway, in this case what he got was an empowered _flaming sphere_, which is not bad for a 3rd level slot investment.

The 'quirky' spells he's got are (along with what he thinks they are and any other known effects):

"Great Balls of Fire" (Fireball, Flaming Sphere

"Pass Unseen" (Invisibility Sphere)

"Summons" (Summon Monster II) - he's used this one too, I think, although I forget where.

"Alacrity" (Rapid Strikes)

J


----------



## Jon Potter

Thanks for the clearing that up. I've been wondering on and off and it always seemed to slip my mind when I was at the keyboard.

And I must say that I'm with Di'Fier on that one: given the nature of combat spells, I'd rather go with a middle-of-the-road "sure thing" than a risky spell that just might fizzle when you need it most!


----------



## DiFier

Di'Fier used the summon monster when we first entered the temple on taboo island.  We were invisible at the time.  2 guards came out cause we made too much noise or something.  Dru kiled one, Benares and Shesara each attacked and missed or just injured the second guard.    Di'Fier began to summon a monster but it went off early as a bolt of conjuring, killing the last guard.  (bolt of conjuring is an attack spell so Dif'Fier became visible)  and leaving a celestial dire badger or something.  So much for sneaking in. time for the full on frontal assult.  Dru needs a ring of invisibility.


----------



## Jon Potter

DiFier said:
			
		

> *Dru needs a ring of invisibility.  *




Hey, you're the wizard.

Looks like it's time to pick up some Item Creation Feats!


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

DiFier said:
			
		

> *  Dru needs a ring of invisibility.  *




Yeah...  she does.


----------



## drnuncheon

Start saving your pennies.  Di'fier's about 5 levels away from Forge Ring, unless 3eRev gives spellswords more casting power...

J


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Start saving your pennies.  Di'fier's about 5 levels away from Forge Ring, unless 3eRev gives spellswords more casting power...
> 
> J *





I imagined him farther away than that, actually. I thought that he'd been concentrating exclusively on Spellsword levels, which, if I'm reading the description in T&B correctly (which, admittedly, I may not be) don't count toward gaining Item Creation Feats.

Where has that pesky Rogue's Gallery thread gotten to anyway?


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *I imagined him farther away than that, actually. I thought that he'd been concentrating exclusively on Spellsword levels, which, if I'm reading the description in T&B correctly (which, admittedly, I may not be) don't count toward gaining Item Creation Feats.*




It's out of arm's reach, but to the best of my knowledge, you can get item creation feats.  it only raises you one caster level per two spellsword levels, though, which slows you down quite a bit.

Right now he's an 8th level caster, and I think he's planning on taking his next (13th) level as wizard so he can finally use that _teleport_ spell. Hmm...and then I guess 6 levels of spellsword to get him to 12th caster level.  Apparently I can't add, and he's 7 levels away.

Right, so, looks like they need to go get Garto and level him up some. 

J
...or Alust, I suppose.


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> It's out of arm's reach, but to the best of my knowledge, you can get item creation feats.  it only raises you one caster level per two spellsword levels, though, which slows you down quite a bit. *




I guess I just always interpreted the "Spells" section of the PrC description wrong then. I don't have the book in front of me, but I think it says something about Spellsword levels just adding spells per day and not counting toward Item Creation Feats, Metamagic Feats, etc.

It certainly wouldn't be the first time my rule knowledge was proved lacking.  



> *
> 
> Right, so, looks like they need to go get Garto and level him up some.
> 
> J
> ...or Alust, I suppose. *




Alust? I don't exactly think that Dru would jump at the chance to ask _him_ for help.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Six, Part Four: Hunted by Day*

The sobbing forgotten, the trio raced downstairs, charging into the kitchen with blades bristling.  The rear door stood open, and a white-faced Gina trembled in the corner as Tomas hid in the pantry.

"A spirit! A ghost!"  Gina screamed, over and over, and like a counterpoint Tomas roared, "Shut the door, woman! Shut the door!"

"If it's a ghost, shutting the door won't help," Di'Fier observed mildly, but seeing the lack of effect this had on the household he nodded to Dru, who kicked the wooden barrier shut with a forbidding _thump_ that cut off the cries like a knife.

"Just what was this all about?" he asked, looking from one servant to the other.

Tomas crawled slowly from his hiding place, clearing his throat.  "M'sorry, sor," he muttered.  "She'm were goin' t'the out-house, an' saw it."

"Is this the first time anything like this has happened?"

"Yes," Tomas said quickly, and after looking at him, Gina nodded.

"You've never heard any crying in the night?"

Again, Tomas' answer came first.  "No, sor."

Di'Fier sighed.  "Gina, why don't you just use the indoor privy?  You should be safe in here.  I think we're going to look into whatever that thing was..."






"This porridge isn't bad," Dru said. "I've never had it with bacon crumbled into it before."

Sir Manuel flushed, pushed away his half-empty bowl, and stalked from the room.

"What was that all about?"

Di'fier leaned over, peering at his cousin's breakfast.  "Someone didn't get any bacon."

"Someone should be nicer to Gina," observed Shesara.

From above, they heard a strangled cry.

"I hope this doesn't get to be a habit," said Dru, finishing her final spoonful.  "Or at least, the ghost starts picking more convenient times to appear."

Di'Fier pushed his chair back.  "We probably ought to go see what it is, though.  Before it hurts him too badly."

The trio strolled to the second floor landing, where Manuel's pale, trembling finger pointed at empty air.  "There...there was a woman!"

Dru nodded sagely. "Terrifying," she agreed.

"A _ghost!_" Manuel insisted.

"You seem overwrought.  Maybe you should rest in the parlor."

"But...but..."

"Go on," Dru said, giving him a gentle push. "Go have a drink or something.  As he staggered off down the stairs, she turned to her friends. "The Baroness? Or whoever our crying ghost was?"

"I hope so," said Di'Fier.  "Otherwise it means that there's three.  At least."  Below them, the front door opened, admitting Ivanior.  "Ivanior!" Di'Fier called. "Do you have a moment?"

"Of course."  The elf made his way up the stairs, and listened as Di'Fier described the happenings last night and this morning.

"I'm afraid I can't help you," he said.  "I don't know anything about ghosts, either generally or here in specific."

"That was interesting," Dru muttered as the elf walked away.  "What is everybody hiding?"

"I'm not sure," said Di'Fier.  "But I want to find out."

"Especially if you're going to inherit this place," said Shesara.

Di'Fier looked at her. "What?"

Dru said, "Well, it's pretty obvious.  Your sick uncle, estranged from the rest of his family, on his deathbed, wants to meet you...why else?"

"That's probably why Manuel is here," Shesara added. "Hoping to get a part of the inheritance."

Di'Fier looked from one elf to the other.  "I...I guess so."

"So come on, almost-Baron. Let's check out your future home."






"It's starting to snow," Shesara said, looking out the window of the Baron's bedroom.

Dru and Di'Fier left off of their search and came to watch.

"I wish we got this in Freeport instead of the rainy season," Dru muttered, as they turned back to their search.  

Di'Fier peered behind the dresser, then reached in from the side.  "I wonder what this is for?"  It was a stick, about three feet long, with a small metal hook on the end.

Dru glanced upward.  "There's a trapdoor in the ceiling.  It's hidden in the carving.  You can probably pull it open with that."

Di'Fier searched out the tiny slot for the hook, and fitted it in. As he began to pull, a voice boomed out from behind them: "_Don't go up there!_"

They spun, but nobody was there.  Shesara hummed softly to herself, then pointed at the portrait of the Baron hanging on the wall. "There's something magical there," she said.

Dru pulled it aside to reveal blank wall beneath, and Shesara confirmed: "It's the portrait."

Footsteps were coming rapidly down the hall, and Dru hastily hung the picture back in its accustomed place.  Di'Fier fumbled with the hook, finally detaching it from the ceiling, and as Liadon entered the room he was leaning on the stick as if it were a cane.

"I thought I heard something," Ivanior said, looking over the group.

"You probably did," said Di'Fier.  "I was just saying that we needed to go out there," gesturing to the ridge behind the house, "to see if there was any sign of the...well, of whatever Gina saw last night."

"And we'd like to see the grounds," added Shesara.

"Very well.  I could show you, if you like."

"That would be splendid."






"That was the orchard...it was originally intended to remind Lady Elena of her home, but orange-trees do not flourish in this climate," Ivanior said.  "And if you follow the coastline, you can see the village of Kirkwood, there."

"What are all those men doing on the river?"

"Loggers, I suppose," said the elf with a shrug.  "The late Baron had an arrangement with Seskin Lumber.  They have a logging camp farther upriver where they cut the trees and float them down here.  Every once in a while one of them goes over the falls, sometimes with a logger or two."

Di'Fier looked at Dru.  "This is about where Gina saw the thing, right?  Let's see if it left any tracks."

Under Ivanior's impatient gaze, the trio fanned out, scoring the rocky ground.

"It's no good," said Di'Fier.  "I don't see any-"

His words were cut off as he crashed to the ground with a strangled cry. Blood began to pour from his body as deep, parallel gouges tore themselves open in his flesh, shredding him like so much meat.


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I guess I just always interpreted the "Spells" section of the PrC description wrong then. I don't have the book in front of me, but I think it says something about Spellsword levels just adding spells per day and not counting toward Item Creation Feats, Metamagic Feats, etc.*




Here it is - ah, I see where you got it!  "She does not, however, gain any other benefit a character of that class would have gained (improved chance of controlling or rebuking undead, *metamagic or item creation feats*, hit points beyond those she receives from the prestige class, and so on)"

I _think_ that just means that you don't get, for example, the bonus feats that you would get every five levels as a wizard, not that Spellsword doesn't let you qualify for them at all.



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Alust? I don't exactly think that Dru would jump at the chance to ask him for help.*




"What game is Alust playing?" is a favorite topic of conversation.  On the one hand he's a complete prat, he helped Amalyth steal the pirate treasure, and he certainly seemed to be working for her when Dru saw him.

On the other hand, he helped Dru out vs. the Dragon's Claw, he knew where Kennic was hiding and got Dru in touch with him, and he told Di'Fier about the _undetectable aura_ on Amalyth's daggers.

And then vanished again.

J


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> * he helped Amalyth steal the pirate treasure, and he certainly seemed to be working for her when Dru saw him.
> J *




Delathin.  Amalyth no longer exists.


----------



## drnuncheon

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Delathin.  Amalyth no longer exists.   *




Y'know, because you remember that all the time too.   And she was Amalyth at the time.



So, last night we wrapped up Book Two.  No more Freeport until 3.5!  We decided that converting during the break between books would be easier than trying to do it in the middle of an adventure.

J


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> So, last night we wrapped up Book Two.  No more Freeport until 3.5!  We decided that converting during the break between books would be easier than trying to do it in the middle of an adventure.
> 
> J *




I hope that you think of the downtime as an apportunity to write up the eight or so sessions that you're behind.


----------



## Dakkareth

It's probably sufficient to say, that as I'm writing this, it's 5.04 am after reading the entire story hour ... 

This is going to come back and bite me in a few hours, but it was worth it.


----------



## DiFier

Then this might be an evil thing to say at this point.  but have you read Book I.; Brotherhood? How about  Drusilia Naïlo: The Making of a Watchman or Di'Fier Anton: The Making of a Watchman.  They aren't required reading but they are suggested sources that may be on the test.

you can find them in Dr. N's Sig


----------



## Dakkareth

I always start reading in the beginning 

I haven't read the making of a watchman threads, though ... maybe tomorrow.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Session Twenty-Six, Part Five: The Guardian*

Dru's blade was out in a split second, thrusting into the seemingly empty air above her partner.  She felt the blade grind on unseen bone as she twisted, withdrew.

Di'Fier could feel the thing's hot breath on his neck as he struggled beneath it, but it was too strong.  Finally, desperately, he planted his hand on the ground and called his blade forth from the magic glove that stored it.  The pommel imbedded itself in the ground, the blade aimed over his shoulder to thrust into his attacker by the force of its sudden growth.  A roar in his ear deafened him, and the weight leapt forth from his body as his blade clattered to the ground.

Instantly, Shesara was at his side, the elven songs of healing that had saved him so often on the island once again pouring forth from her mouth.  The other two elves stood above him with drawn blades, scanning for any sign of their attacker.

"It's never done such a thing before," muttered Liadon, drawing a sharp look from Dru.

"So you _have_ heard of it," she said.  "What is it?"

Di'Fier struggled to his feet, ignoring the blood that stained his tattered clothing. "I think we're all anxious to know."

Liadon glanced at the horizon.  "Perhaps inside would be better..."

"Does it come inside?"

"It never has before."

"It's never tried to kill anyone before, either," Dru muttered, yanking open the kitchen door."

Liadon coughed.  "That is not entirely true.  It has slain several highwaymen and bandits, at the late Baron's command.  He claimed it was a guardian, sent to him as a gift."

"From who?" Di'Fier winced as Shesara peeled the bloody cloth away from his back.

"He never said."

"I wonder if it has something to do with my Uncle's rivalry with the rest of my family."  Di'Fier tossed the sodden remnants of his shirt into the corner, and tried to look at the wounds on his back.  "Maybe it wasn't told I could be trusted."

Dru scowled. "I suspect the Dragon's Claw."

"What about the _other_ ghost, Liadon?" Di'Fier pressed, ignoring his partner's fixation.

"I...that is...some people claim to have heard the Baroness, at times," the elf admitted.  "There's not much more to say about it than that."







"Ha. Look at _this_."  Dru spun the thick tome about, thrust it across the table at Di'Fier, her finger stabbing down at the page.

"What, the empty part?"

"Looks just like what attacked you, doesn't it?  And apparently it can be seen at night." Indeed, beside the blankness was a picture of a leonine creature, consisting of little more than an outline of blue flame. "...just like what Gina saw," Dru finished triumphantly.  "It's called a..." she peered at the upside-down page, "..._bezekira_."

Di'Fier quickly scanned the passage.  "...pounces upon its Foes after the manner of a Lion..." he muttered.  "...native to the deserts of Hell."

Downstairs, the front door crashed open, and they dashed forth from the library.

"It's no damned good," roared a voice from the hall. "They said it's the damned 'rainy season' in Freeport, and the damned message can't get...eh?"  Peering up at them was a hunchbacked dwarf in worn and stained travel-clothes, a shapeless hat crammed down on top of his head.  A look of comprehension swept over his face, and he plucked the mass from its perch and bowed. "Beggin' your pardon, sir.  Gaberk, your late uncle's majordomo.  We thought you hadn't received the message."

"I did, and I am here," Di'Fier assured him.

"Then I will fetch your uncle's will."


----------



## Jon Potter

Finally!!

It was maddening all day yesterday to see the message in my inbox that Dr N had updated and then not be able to access the boards.

Nice update. Where's the bezekira from?


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Where's the bezekira from? *




The Monster Manual, actually.

It threw me too when I first saw the entry - on the Summon Monster VI table in the PHB, no less.  I kept thinking "that sounds so familiar...but where did I see it?" I had to search for half an hour to find the darn thing (under 'Devil, Hellcat').

J


----------



## Jon Potter

Tricky, Dr N! Using a monster from one of the core rulebooks. Nobody ever does that anymore. 

I hope it was templated at least.


----------



## Jon Potter

*Can't stand to see one of my faves on page 2!*

Consider this to be a plea for an update masquerading as a....


BUMP!!!


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Can't stand to see one of my faves on page 2!*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Consider this to be a plea for an update masquerading as a....
> 
> 
> BUMP!!! *




What Jon said


----------



## DiFier

*The long road to Lothilawyr*

Hello everyone.  

You can see why Dr. N isn't posting to the Freeport story hour here http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=49733 yup that's right . . . Dru and Dr. N are players and I'm the GM.  

The story hour is just starting up so you can get in on the action early.


----------



## drnuncheon

_*I, the Right Honorable Jardek Anton, Lord Threehills, Magus of the Sixth Circle*, being possessed of free will and all my faculties sound, do hereby set my hand to this final testament concerning the disposition of my worldly goods and offices.

*To my servants, Tomas and Gina*: should the new Baron not require your services, a stipend of ten pieces of gold apiece and a letter of recommendation,

*To my musician, Ivanior Liadon*: as with my servants, but the stipend to be twenty pieces of gold,

*To my butler, Gaberk*: as with my musician, but the stipend to be thirty pieces of gold.

The remainder of my estate and offices, to include Threehills Manor, its contents, and the surrounding lands, *to my nephew Di'Fier, son of my sister Eleanor Anton*, and to him also the office and responsibilities of Baron of Threehills, dependent upon his confirmation in that office by such authority as may be recognized at that time.

To this I set my hand and seal:

Jardek Anton, Lord Threehills, M6C

(witnessed)
Ivanior Liadon
Gaberk_

"This is infamous!"  Manuel's moustache bristled as he leapt to his feet.  "I have come this long way to receive nothing!  Nothing!  And it is visited upon someone who is not even a citizen of the Empire!  A...a _pirate_!"

Dru shared a glance with her partner, who did not look as if he entirely believed what Gaberk had read, and suppressed a snort - poorly, it seemed, for Manuel rounded on her, his face scarlet as he sputtered.  Then, his eyes caught Di'Fier, and he stepped up to the taller man. "Honor demands an accounting!" he boomed.

"You must remember, Sir Manuel," Liadon purred, "that only peers of the realm may duel.  By issuing such a challenge you are _de facto_ accepting his right to the title."

The knight's face darkened from scarlet to purple, as he glared around the room, then stalked out, the front door slamming in his wake.

"What an unpleasant man," Dru murmured sourly.

"M'lord," Gaberk mumbled, with a quick bow.  "Have you any instructions?"

Di'Fier looked around, his head still spinning.  "Ah...no.  Not yet."

The dwarf approached him.  "It would be a kindness if you told Tomas and Gina if they were to stay or leave, and when..."

"Oh! Of course.  They may go, if they wish, but I hope that they will stay and, ah, remain in my service."

"Very good.  There is one more thing.  The late Baron had many...protections...laid upon this house.  They should be attuned to you.  I believe the instructions are in the library.  You will need the Baron's signet."  The dwarf held up a heavy golden ring. 

"Thank you, Gaberk.  I...should see to that."


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *
> "Very good.  There is one more thing.  The late Baron had many...protections...laid upon this house.  They should be attuned to you.  I believe the instructions are in the library.  You will need the Baron's signet."  The dwarf held up a heavy golden ring. *






Don't do it, Di'Fier!! 

And I love Sir Manuel's reaction, DrN! Simply priceless.


----------



## DiFier

don't do what?


----------



## Vurt

*B*ravo!  So like, *um*mmm...  what hap*p*ens next, eh?

Vurt


----------



## drnuncheon

*Watch this space*

Update tonight, barring unforeseen difficulties.


----------



## Zarthon

*Re: Watch this space*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Update tonight, barring unforeseen difficulties. *




That sux  I have to wait for tomorrow night


----------



## drnuncheon

Di'Fier settled himself before the library desk, the ring glinting in the candlelight as it rested on the scarred wooden surface.  Slowly, he broke the seal and opened the letter.

_Dear nephew,

Once you have followed these instructions you will truly be the Baron of Threehills.  Without them you are in some danger, for there are forces which I have struggled against that will no doubt come for you as well.

First, you must clear your mind..._ 

"Why is it that you are here...Dru?"  Ivanior's normally practiced speech stumbled slightly over the human contraction of her name, and he looked at her over the glass of wine that Tomás had brought to finish dinner.

"I'm looking for my father," Dru said, fixing her attention on a lighter patch on the wall where a picture once rested. "And my fiancé.  I've tracked them to Highgate, but...the trail seems to end."

"Perhaps I could aid you in your search.  If the Baron is willing."

"I'm sure a local would be invaluable."

"What are their names?"

"Galanodel.  Enialis Galanodel.  And my father is Tensin Naïlo."  She did not miss the slight widening of the eyes, the contraction of the pupils when she mentioned Galanodel's name.  _He knows him...but how?_

One of Liadon's hands moved - a gesture so subtle Dru barely noticed.  _Some kind of recognition symbol?_ She kept her face calm, pretended not to notice.

_Reach out to the ring with your mind.  Familiarize yourself with its feel, so that you will know it and accept it when it is placed on your finger.  You will feel the protections I have placed probing you.  Do not be alarmed, for they must ascertain your identity to prevent another from usurping your rightful place._

There was a subtle, insistent scratching at the door, and Dru rose swiftly, hand moving to the hilt of her blade.  For an instant, she was embarassed...until she saw that Liadon had done the same thing.

Tomás scurried to the door and pulled it open - then screamed.

_When you can feel the ring in your mind, you must lower your defenses.  Be swift, for you will not be safe until it is on your finger.  Place it there and make the invocation I have written below, and it will be done.

Good luck, Baron._

"Who.../what/ is this?"  Ivanior shouldered the door closed as he helped Dru with the semiconscious burden.  

Dru stepped over Tomás and twitched the cloak back over the scaly arm of their visitor.  "You remember I mentioned a retinue?  I'm not sure where the rest are."  She cursed herself. "I should have remembered the cold.  We've got to get him in by the fire.  And someone pick Tomás up off of the floor."

As they moved S'karat into the parlor, Dru could hear footsteps above them.  "Gaberk?" she heard Di'Fier call, and then a soft conversation that she could not make out.

"S'karat, where are the others?" Dru asked, chafing the serpentman's hands.

"Left them...in burrow.  Sssleeping.  Cold.  Too cold.  Yig protectsss Sss'karat, but not othersss.  Not enough magic for all."

"Will they be all right?"

"They sssleep...until warm."

Dru nodded, moving to put another log onto the fire. "You remember where they are?"  Seeing the lack of comprehension, she tried again.  "You can find them?"

"...yesss."

"Does the Baron have a carriage?" Dru asked, turning to Ivanion - then, remembering the state of the carriage house, she reconsidered.  "Or a wagon of some sort?"

Ivanior thought a moment.  "I'm certain we could find one in Kirkwood. I-" 

He did not finish his next thought, for Gaberk stepped into the room.  "Th' Baron would like t'speak with Ivanior," he said, gesturing curtly at the hall.  As the elf departed, he looked over Dru and the new guest.  "C'n I get y'anything?"

"He should be fine," Dru said, casting a judicious look at her priest.  "Perhaps some coal for the fire - it would burn hotter than wood.  I think Tomás would rather we not put him in the kitchen."

Ivanior returned, and Gaberk looked at him.  "His Lordship is all right?"

"Quite," the elf replied.  "Dru...why don't you ask Gaberk if he saw any sign of your father and fiancé?  He just returned from Highgate..."

Dru looked at the hunchbacked dwarf, who glanced from elf to elf in surprise.  "Eh?  What did they look like?"  Gaberk listened, then thought for a moment.  "I seem to remember a pair like that.  They were unusual enough.  In the Old City, I think.  The Golden Lantern."

"That's Dragon's Claw territory, isn't it?" Liadon asked.

Gaberk scowled, but nodded in agreement.  

Dru's expression mirrored the dwarf's.  "I don't like that.  It's probably a trap.  They've changed their shape to look like other people before."

Gaberk rubbed at his nose, then grunted:  "It's the Golden _Palace_ that's Claw territory, not the Lantern."

"Ah, yes."  Liadon looked to the door, then rose.  "My Lord," he said, bowing to Di'Fier.

"Liadon, Gaberk, Dru," Di'Fier nodded to each in turn, then stepped over to his partner.  "There is a great deal of interest in the library," he told her.  "I am going to have to spend much time studying them.  There are many books to master."

Dru nodded.  "Hitting the books.  I understand.  That always makes me wish I could have a nice, steaming hot calzone."

Di'Fier tilted his head to one side.  "Perhaps Gina can arrange something of the kind."


----------



## Jon Potter

And the only thing better than enjoying a nice, hot calzone is enjoying a nice, hot calzone while watching a talented jongleur.


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

My thoughts exactly!


----------



## Lela

WHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!


Guh, no!  This isn't good, this isn't good. . .

*Bangs Head* "Why did you have to catch up?  Why?" *Bangs Head* "Stupid, stuipid, Stupid!"


----------



## Jon Potter

Lela, imagine how those of us who were already caught up feel.

It's been... what, 6 months since the last update.

Okay, maybe not 6 months; but it's been a wjile.

Where are you, DrN?


----------



## drnuncheon

Well, I'll have a lot more free time soon as this temp job ends tomorrow. :/

Update tonight.

J


----------



## Jon Potter

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Well, I'll have a lot more free time soon as this temp job ends tomorrow. :/
> 
> Update tonight.
> 
> J *




*HUZZAH!!!*

...

Not so much about the job ending, mind you. But rather about the update and the increased free time.

Jobs can be good. How else would we afford gaming supplements?


----------



## Zarthon

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Well, I'll have a lot more free time soon as this temp job ends tomorrow. :/
> 
> Update tonight.
> 
> J *




Damn timezones !!!!  now I have to wait until tomorrow


----------



## drnuncheon

*"You're not Di'Fier."*

Dru's sword was in her hand, her eyes cold as she looked at this imposter wearing her friends' face - no, stealing his body.  "You're not Di'Fier."

Liadon was in front of her, barely registering as a presence with a drawn blade.  Her eyes remained fixed on the tall form that stood diffidently behind him.

"The only reason I'm not poking you full of holes is that I'm afraid of damaging my friend's body," Dru said flatly.

"I apologize," said the man in Di'Fier's body.  "The transfer of magical power has disoriented me, and you are clearly distraught.  Please, wait.  In the morning, you will see that I am me."

Outside, in the darkness, something hammered at the window.

_Ampiel's heart battered at his ribcage even as his wings slammed ineffectually against the glass.  Inside, he could see the person who was wearing his boss's body - but where was Di'Fier?  Somewhere black, where he couldn't move.  Did that mean he was dead?  Ampiel didn't know.  He hadn't been a familiar for that long.

_Let me in, let me in!_ he thought fiercely at anyone who would listen, shrieking his raucous cry.  _I don't want to go back to just being a raven!_

Ampiel saw Dru turn, met her eyes.  She lashed out with the hilt of her blade, cracking the window, even as a pale ray of coruscating color fell across her face.  She stumbled, stabbed at the approaching elf, but her sword was twisted from her nerveless fingers by his own blade, and fell to the floor.

Di'Fier - or the one wearing his body - had vanished._

Dru pulled her dagger, fighting the weakness that had rolled over her from the wizard's spell.  "Get away from me, you f*ck*ng b*st*ard," she growled.

Liadon took a step back.  "I don't want to hurt you, Dru.  I don't think that Di'Fier did, either."

"Then why did you draw on me?"

"Until I am told that my services are no longer needed, I protect the Baron."  Liadon's sword did not waver from its guard position.  "You were obviously angry, upset, not thinking clearly."

Dru studied him through narrowed eyes.  "He's not your employer, I swear.  If he was, then he'd have known the right response."

"Be that as it may," Liadon said, "I can't take any chances.  Are you willing to put up your dagger so we can investigate this peacably?"

Dru slid the blade into its home, reached for her rapier as Liadon backed cautiously away.  Their eyes locked on each other, the elves slowly sheathed their rapiers.

"Good," said Liadon.

"Your employer has some questions to answer," Dru said, moving past him into the hall.  _No sign of him, of course,_ she thought, scanning the hall.  _Invisibility, stealing someone's face - sounds like the Dragon's Claw to me._

Gradually, she became aware that she was being watched, and her eyes tracked upward to the balcony that overlooked the hall.

Five sets of eyes stared at her from the faces arrayed at varying heights behind the banister.  _Children?  But they-_ And then one moved, and she saw what the shadows had concealed.

_He began to bounce the child on his knee again. The child grinned in toothless delight, and laughed aloud, reaching for Papa's ears. Papa looked at the child dispassionately for a moment, and then cut its throat, much like Dru had its mother just moments before. It didn't even have time to wail._

Dru recoiled as the children began to move down the stairs, their dessicated heads lolling back on their necks, exposing five surgically precise, curiously bloodless cuts stretching across five throats, from ear to ear.  She stared in horror...and she promised herself that someone was going to pay.


----------



## Jon Potter

Gruesome, DrN!

I love it!!!  

And that was a nice bit with Ampiel, too. But as a raven familiar, shouldn't he be able to speak a language?


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *And that was a nice bit with Ampiel, too. But as a raven familiar, shouldn't he be able to speak a language? *




In fact, he does speak Common, but he tends to forget when he gets overly excited.

J


----------



## Lela

Okay, having my brain fried on this Story Hour, I think I'm going to need someone to remind me of the code words.

And, speaking of the Raven, what happened to him after the window broke open?


----------



## Jon Potter

Lela said:
			
		

> *Okay, having my brain fried on this Story Hour, I think I'm going to need someone to remind me of the code words.*




I was hinting at them when I jokingly posted the following:



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *And the only thing better than enjoying a nice, hot calzone is enjoying a nice, hot calzone while watching a talented jongleur.  *




Dru's code word is calzone. D'Fier's is jongleur.


----------



## DiFier

You're close Jon.

Actually neither code word is assigned to either charachter.  Just that when one uses one of the two code words in a sentence the other must use the other in their next sentance.  

It gets really weird when they are telling the jongleur story or the calzone gollum story.   

actually I think that during the retelling of those stories they just don't respond.  

It usually goes like this.  Di'Fier walks around the block and runs into Dru who told him she would be out of town for a few days.  He's not sure that this is actually dru and so he says "Hi, Dru.  Have I introduced you to my new girlfriend the jongleur?"  Dru Responds "I think that you must have eaten a bad calzone Di'Fier, your hallucinating again."  He responds "I thought you were going to be out of town"  And they continue on their way.  Sometimes they don't make sence or seem a little weird to the other people around them.  "Did you bring me a Calzone?"  "what do I look like some kind of jongleur?"  or "I hear the the jongleurs convention is in town" "Yeah but the vendors aren't serving calzones." Weird but they could be real conversations.


----------



## Jon Potter

Thanks for setting me straight!


----------



## Greg Dickens

OK I thought the last update's cliff hanger was bad this one is just Nasty.


----------



## Lela

Yep, I knew that.  It just wasn't registering.

Really, nicely done Dr N.  You've created a true work of literature.  With shifts in perspective and bouncing time dilation, I sware I could be watching a (really long) movie here.

Like I said, nicely done.  Thanks,


----------



## DiFier

I like to think of it as an anime series or a comic book


----------



## ShawnLStroud

No *way* is this thread dropping off the front page!


----------



## drnuncheon

Dru could hear the faint tones of an incantation.  _The children - a distraction!_ She burst forward, ignoring their grasping hands, only to hear feet running away.  _No time,_ she thought.  _I've got to keep him in earshot._

The footsteps led her to the kitchen, but a clatter of pots thrown to the floor drowned them out - until she heard them behind her.  Dru spun - only to come face to face with Shesara.  "He's invisible," Dru growled.

"Then I think we should even the playing field," the bard replied, and her voice soared upwards, wrapping them in tendrils of unseen magic until the two elves also faded from sight.

From down the hall, Liadon watched them vanish, and then turned and crept silently up the main staircase.







"_This_ way," Dru hissed, feeling her fingertips leave Shesara's for a moment.  _Handy as it is, this spell can be a real pain
sometimes..._ The door to the master bedroom stood ajar, and the elves slowly stepped towards it.  Dru peered through the crack.  "Nobody in the room, but the trapdoor's open.  I bet he's gone into the attic."

Pushing the door quietly open, they moved into the room.  "Turn the
painting around, Shesara."

"You're right.  We don't want it noticing us going up, even if we are
invisible."  Jardek's face lifted itself away from the wall, spun half a
turn on the vertical axis, and settled back down facing the wall.  There
was a creak as weight was put on the ladder, but no voice adminished them from the painting.  Quickly, they ascended.

A tiny room perched above the master bedroom, lit only by what filtered up from the bedroom below. Even so, Dru could see the small tracks in the dust - from the closed door to the trapdoor they had just ascended through.  "Through here must be where he kept the children."

"Through here" proved to be a long room, running most of the length of the house.  Dark, cloth-covered shapes lurked in the shadows of their vision, squat, uneven, and menacing.  Dru twitched one of the covers away to find a rotting couch with a broken leg, and dust spiraled up into the air.

"It looks like there's a path through all of this junk," Shesara said. "But are we sure he's-"

The creak and slam of the trapdoor cut her sentence off in the middle, and the pair were plunged into darkness.

The sound of elven cursing was almost drowned out by the tones of the hymn to the sun that Shesara began to sing, and slowly, light blossomed in her cupped palms, casting stark shadows on the walls.

"I don't _believe_ we fell for that," Dru snarled, stalking the edges
of the room.  "Clearly, they intend for us to perish here in the attic.  Let me see that mace," she said, peering at the chimney.  "I might be able to break a hole in it that we can climb through..."






Several minutes later, Dru sighed aloud in exasperation, and thrust the mace back at Shesara.  "It's useless.  The place is built stronger than it looks."  She paced back and forth, trying to fight down the rising edge of panic.  _I will not die up here in the attic, and be another one of that monster's victims!  I will not die!_  With a fierce snarl, she whirled around.  "If I die, everyone else in this gods-forsaken house is going to die with me.  I'll burn the d*mned thing to the ground!"  

Shesara stared at her, aghast.  "Dru, are you crazy?  You're going to get us all killed!"

Dru snarled.  "No, I think that the Baron and his flunkies are going to get us all killed."

Shesara's eyes widened.  "Maybe we can break through the trapdoor..." she started, giving it a push.  It promptly fell open.

Dru stared, feeling disgust both at herself for not trying the trapdoor, and at the villains, for being stupid enough to not lock them up there.  "Well then," she said, in a normal voice, "Let's go kill them some other way, then."

Shesara looked at her warily, but followed her down the ladder.

"I was thinking," Dru whispered, as they got the the bottom of the ladder.  "We know from Ampiel that Di'Fier is in a dark place, and that he couldn't move.  I thought that meant that he was tied up somewhere like the attic... but I'm not so sure now.  If the Baron is in Di'Fier's body... then Di'Fier is probably trapped in the Baron's body."

Shesara looked like she felt like she wsa going to be sick, but she nodded.  "I think that sounds... likely," she said with a sigh.  "Poor Di'Fier."

Dru nodded.   "Well, if Di'Fier doesn't make it out of this alive, rest assured that none of the others will either."   When Ampiel landed on her shoulder, she reached up and absently patted him.   "Let's go get Di'Fier."






There was the sound of shattering glass as someone repeated slammed into a window.  It came from the study.  Liadon turned to look at his employer, now clothed in the body of the much younger man.  "They're breaking into the study," he said, looking worried.  "What should we do?"

The baron looked from one of his employees to the other, and then said, "Kill them."

Dru leapt through the window, into the room.  The baron still lay in his casket.  She threw open the casket, looking down at the old man's body in distaste.  "If you're in there, Di'Fier, we're here to help."

The door flew open, and a dagger hurtled through the air towards Dru.  She turned and smirked at Liadon, as she stepped out of the dagger's path, letting it thunk into the casket lid behind her. "I grew up with this stuff instead of mother's milk."

Di'Fier stepped into the room behind Liadon, an invocation on his lips, and Dru felt her muscles begin to seize.  _Oh no...no, you don't_ she thought, fighting to thrust the invading presence from her mind.  Gaberk took advantage of her distraction and crossed the room, hitting Dru with a shortsword.  The blade bit into her neck, leaving a bloody gash behind as she jerked away.

Dru snarled again, ducking away from Gaberk's awkward followup.  A glint of light on the old man's finger caught her eye.  _A ring?  Could that be what's keeping him from moving?_ She twisted aside and reached for the corpse's hand...

_Di'Fier lay in darkness, only able to hear the voices that shouted around him.  He felt an impact as something hit...whatever, wherever he was.  _It sounded like wood.  The coffin?_ Then a warm hand grabbed his, and he felt something slipping off of his finger...

The world spiraled out of control, and he felt a presence rushing towards him_

With a scream, Di'Fier - no, the Baron - dropped to the floor.

Ampiel's feathers flew as he battered the air with his wings.  "_Not that ring!  Not that ring!_"

Dru swore, jamming the signet back onto the bony finger and pulling the hands apart.  On the other hand - a silver band.  _Is that it?_  She could hear Shesara trying desperately to fend off the others.  

Dru grabbed the ring and pulled.

_Di'Fier hung on to the edges of the mind he had been banished to, fighting against the rightful owner.  He could feel Anton's thoughts pouring through him, forcing him out.  Images spun and danced before his eyes: Elena...the children...and a dark, hunched, inhuman figure.  Desperately he clung to his place, knowing that if he let go, he would be flung into the endless void.

Then the pressure vanished, and he tumbled back into a suddenly empty mind.  Jardek was gone, and he was still frozen, unmoving.

No...

...he wasn't frozen anymore._

The wrinkled man in the coffin sat up, copper coins sliding off of his eyes.  One palsied finger pointed at Di'Fier's body, and a voice hoarse from disuse ordered "Grab him!"  That done, the fingers clutched at the side of the casket, struggling to lift the frail body out.

No one seemed to respond the the old man's orders.  Di'Fier's body stepped back, words of power crackling in the air.  Shesara slammed the rod into Gaberk's skull, causing the dwarf to roar with pain.  Still perceiving Dru as the greater threat, Gaberk lunged towards her with his sword, but missed.  Liadon, trying to flank with Gaberk, also tried to hit Dru with his rapier, but she managed to twist to the side at the last moment.  "You're going to have to be better than that..."  She twisted around, and thrust her rapier at Gaberk twice, puncturing him both times.

Movement behind Liadon caught Dru's eye: S'Karat stood in the doorway, his face unreadable.  "Druuuu," he crooned, and raised a hand, Valossan syllables hissing from his lips and bursting like fire from his palm, fanning out to engulf Liadon.

Di'Fier felt the pain stabbing through the Barons' body as he tumbled to the floor.  He could hear his own voice ringing out, and his whirling mind pieced together the spell.  _A summoning...I can't let him finish._  Painfully, he crawled across the floor, past the melee wher eDru and Shesata struggled to hold off the Baron's servants.  He coughed, and his vision dimmed.  When it returned, red blood stained his hand.  _No wonder he wants a new body,_ Di'Fier thought wildly as he pushed himself slowly upright, his vision fading again.

When it snapped back into focus, he saw his body holding a candle that burst into flame.  _The summoning is almost complete...I've got to stop it..._  He reached into the depths of his memory, pulling a collection of sigils to the floor, feeling the power aching to be released.  _Just one clear shot, gods, give me a clear shot...._

Shesara stepped to the side, and Di'Fier raised a withered hand.  The bolt of force slammed into Gaberk, sending the dwarf spinning to the floor, and then into his own body, hammering it into the wall, candle and bag dropping unheeded to the floor.  Blood trickled from his nose and ears as he staggered forward - then turned, and ran down the hall.

Dru looked around, wildly.  She saw that Di'Fier was still shambling in his old man's body, unable to catch his runaway uncle.  Shesara was taking advantage of Gaberk's prone body, and hitting him with the rod.   S'karat lay crumpled, a victim of Liadon's steel.  _I suppose that it's up to me,_ she thought to herself, already racing towards the door.  Her eyes narrowed as Liadon tried to block her path, and she ran him through, twisting the blade and sending him to the floor, not waiting for the corpse to fall before she continued.

Di'Fier staggered after Dru, leaning on Shesara.  _I hope that she doesn't punch too many holes in my body, he thought.  I want that back. _ He looked down the hall at his vanishing body, Dru in hot pursuit.  _I'll never catch up to them,_ he thought, and sagged against the doorframe.

Something slammed into the kitchen door, and wood splintered.

Half-remembered fear flooded Di'Fier's mind - memories of Jardek's intermixed with his own.  _The bezekira - sent by Squarefoot - _who is Squarefoot?_ It comes for me.  Guardian and protector and agent of the contract._  The door shuddered again, and flickering ghost-flames reached in from the darkness.

_There's nothing I can do...it will kill Dru, and everyone else here._  Di'Fier looked down at the ring on his finger - the signet identical to the one his body wore.  _No...there _is_ something..._

Dru raced along the hallway after the baron, knowing that she couldn't damage him the way that she wanted to... not if her friend was to get his body back.  _We can always heal him up a little when I'm through_, she thought to herself, raising the rapier to run the baron through.  She never had the chance.  With a scream of pain that sounded so hauntingly like Di'Fier that it sent shivers up and down her spine,  the Baron dropped to the ground.  With a crunching and splintering of wood, the hellcat leaped through the shattered remnants ot the kitchen door, bounding past Dru.

She turned, and saw the old Baron's body crumpled, the signet ring fallen from his hand.  For an instant she froze - and then she understood. "This better work!" she cried, her rapier falling to the floor as she snatched the signet from Di'Fier's finger.

The Baron's body opened its eyes to see the hellcat above him.  He screamed as the jaws bit down, picking up his body like a rag doll.  One claw tore the air into a portal that reeked of brimstone, and then the pair were gone and all was silent.

Below her, Di'Fier's body opened its eyes.  "Di'Fier?  Is that you?"

There was a moment of tense silence, and he said, "Yes."

"Do you feel like having a calzone after all of that?"  Dru stared down at her former partner, her voice hard.

He looked up at her.  "Only if we can watch a good jongleur show afterward."


----------



## Jon Potter

*Woo Hoo!*

Good to see an update, DrN!

And what an update! Action-packed from sart to finish!

Rather ironic, really, attacking Dru with a dagger! Sheesh! If Liadon only knew...

I'm a little unclear what happened with the attic trapdoor. Did the invisible Baron just forget to lock the door, or was something else at work luring them up there?

In the original adventure, I remember that there was more nastiness than just the Baron in that house. Although with all the modifications that you made, DrN, I'm unsure what to think.

Oh yeah, and poor S'karat! I hope that someone can pour a spare cure down his throat.


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Woo Hoo!*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *Good to see an update, DrN!
> 
> And what an update! Action-packed from sart to finish!*




Lots of credit to Dru, who helped significantly with the writeup to jar loose my writer's block.



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> I'm a little unclear what happened with the attic trapdoor. Did the invisible Baron just forget to lock the door, or was something else at work luring them up there?*




Well, I had Di'Fier playing the baron after the ceremony - I handed him a card with the stats and a note that explained what was going on, and let him work against Dru.

He had _planned_ to lock them up there, but he forgot that he had used his only prepared _arcane lock_ on the parlor door to prevent them from getting to the body.  Whoops.



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *In the original adventure, I remember that there was more nastiness than just the Baron in that house. Although with all the modifications that you made, DrN, I'm unsure what to think.*




The 'kids' are still out there somewhere...

J


----------



## Lela

Very creepy.

Did they have to deal with the "Ghost Cat" after that?  It doesn't seem like those guys just leave you alone.


----------



## drnuncheon

No.

Not _yet_...

J


----------



## Lela

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *No.
> 
> Not yet...
> 
> J *




Okay, not a good time to get complacent. . .


----------



## DiFier

Yeah I wasn't sure what was gonna happen when I puled off the ring.  It was a little scary.  When Dru took it off my finger I almost died.  In fact I think I lost temporary Wisdom points. and so did the baron.  I couldn't see an easy way to stop the baron and he was slowly regaining his spells.  He would soon have his 5th and 6th level spells.  and in Di'Fier's body He might have kicked some ass.


----------



## Jon Potter

Lela said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Okay, not a good time to get complacent. . . *




I've yet to see a point during the Freeport Cycle where the PCs had a chance to get complacent!

Let's see... we've defeated the crazy cultists and saved the world's sanity; time to sit back and...

WOAH! The Dragon Claw's trying to take over the city's underworld!

We've defeated the Dragon's Claw and got our guy elected as the next Sea Lord; time to sit back and...

WOAH! We're captured by slavers!

We've defeated the slavers and taken control of their ship; time to sit back and...

Woah! Now we're stranded on an uncharted island full of dinosaurs and giant hags intent on corrupting our souls!

... You get the idea.


----------



## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *Yeah I wasn't sure what was gonna happen when I puled off the ring.  It was a little scary.  When Dru took it off my finger I almost died.  In fact I think I lost temporary Wisdom points. and so did the baron.  I couldn't see an easy way to stop the baron and he was slowly regaining his spells.  He would soon have his 5th and 6th level spells.  and in Di'Fier's body He might have kicked some ass. *




The rings were made in a pair - each one projected the mind of the person wearing it into the person who donned the other ring.  When Di'Fier took off his ring, the Baron's mind stopped being projected into Di'Fier's body, and came back to its own - but of course, Di'Fier's mind was already there.  The two occupied the same space for a brief time, and DF picked up a few of his uncle's memories, but when Dru stuck the ring back on, she saved Di'Fier's mind from being kicked out (and lost), and both of them from insanity.

J


----------



## drnuncheon

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I've yet to see a point during the Freeport Cycle where the PCs had a chance to get complacent!*




Hey! There were several months in between Book1 and 2...we just didn't talk about them because nothing happened. 

There may be a year or more in between book 2 and 3...but Dru and Di'Fier will have plenty to do in that year.  After all, Di'Fier's just inherited a Barony, and Dru...well, Dru has some things of her own to handle.

J


----------



## Lela

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> 
> ... You get the idea.  *




Point well taken.


----------



## drnuncheon

"...and that's how I wound up as the Baron of Threehills," Di'Fier finished, picking his mug up to drain it.

"An amazing story, my friend," said Egil.  "Or should that be 'my Lord' now?"

Both of the former Watchmen laughed, but then Di'Fier's face turned serious.  "The worst part about it is, I don't even know _that_.  Uncle Jardek wasn't one for keeping records...not about the Barony, at least.  I've got no idea what I'm going to do.  I don't even know any Barons I could ask..."

"What you need is a seneschal," Egil said. "But a good one is hard to find."

"I guess I'll add that to the list," Di'Fier said.  "Tomas and Gina have agreed to stay on, but neither of them can oversee the house, so I need a butler - and apparently I have to provide a force of men-at-arms when the Emperor wants them."  He picked up the pitcher and poured himself another mug of ale.  "I don't know how to do that either.  I guess it can't be /that/ different from training Watchmen..."  His voice was none too certain.

Dru finally leaned forward, the candlelight glittering off of her unblinking eyes.  "Actually, Di'Fier, I think I might have met the man you're looking for on that account."







The interior of the Rosewood Inn was quite unlike the murky establishments of Freeport: freshly whitewashed walls, tables lovingly polished, brightly lit by oil lamps - except for the corner.  That corner pulled Dru's eyes to its occupant like a magnet.

Humans aged so strangely, she couldn't tell how old he was - perhaps the age of Di'Fier's father.  He was grizzled and battered, but she could see the remnants of a fighting man in him.

The auburn-haired woman behind the bar clucked her tongue as she saw Dru looking. "My brother-in-law, Jakob," she said in a low voice.  "Went off t'join the army years ago.  Fought until he lost his hand, and then they sent him back." She stood with one fist on her hip, head cocked as she regarded Dru.  "You'll be that friend of the new baron's, then."

Bemused, Dru nodded.  "Word travels fast."

"Well, even if it oversteps my bounds, good riddance to the last one.  Let's hope your friend does better by the town.  Chessa Kirk," she said, passing her cleaning cloth her left hand and extending the right.

"Dru N-"  The elf paused, shaking the hand. "Just Dru."

Chessa gave her a look that said this wasn't the first time she'd met someone unwilling to give their full name.  She appraised Dru for a while longer before speaking again.  "If you're here for lunch, Fallar's brought us some hares.  They'll be ready in a few minutes."

_Hairs?_ Dru wondered.  _It must be some kind of animal..._ "Sounds fine," she said, already moving across the tavern, her eyes on the old man.






"...so he's a veteran of the wars out west," Dru finished.  "And a 'hare' is like an _anhlaraukadal_, except bigger.  I'd have told you about him before, but...you know."

"I wasn't in any shape to hear it," Di'Fier agreed.  "Taking the ring off stopped my uncle, but it nearly cost me my mind," he explained for Egil's benefit.  "Fortunately, Sister Mistwarden at the chapel was able to put me back together.  As near as we can tell, the rings were made to project the wearer's mind to the wearer of the other ring, so when I took the ring off of the Baron's finger, his mind tried to return to his body while mine was still in it."  He closed his eyes and shook his head.  "Sometimes I even feel like he left pieces lying around.  I've got memories that aren't exactly my own."

Egil's face grew serious.  "What have you done with the rings?"

"They won't be bothering anyone anymore," Di'Fier said with a smile.  "I watched the goldsmith melt them down.  My new signet should be done before I return to Threehills."

"Speaking of your return," the priest said, "have you spoken to Falthar?  I believe that some of his research is on your behalf.  A dagger of some sort?"

"Falthar's here?"

"Here, and lamenting the departure of the Temple from Freeport," Egil affirmed.  "I'm sure that it makes life far more difficult for him, that is for certain."

"I'll have to stop by and see what he has to say..." mused the young mage.






"This is an amazing piece, and I would give much to know how its previous owner came across it," Falthat said. "The dagger itself is absolutely ancient, and made of a curious metal that I was unable to identify, although there are traces of both mithral and adamant in its makeup.  It appears to be extremely conductive of electricity, however."

At the nods from Dru and Di'Fier, he continued.  "What is even more interesting to me is the maker’s mark, visible here just above the hilt.  While it does not seem to match the mark of any of the smiths that I know would be able to produce such work, it bears a curious resemblance to the ones used by _dwarkar_ Dormarkhergos, the Clan of the Traveling Anvil."

"So what does that mean?" asked Dru.

"I would expect it to be used by a related line, perhaps a cadet branch of the family," answered the sage.  "That in and of itself would not be so surprising if this blade did not also bear a striking resemblance to another piece that passed through my hands quite some time ago, an adamantine blade that definitely bore signs of _elven_ workmanship.  The gentleman who brought it told me that the person he had it from swore that it came from the mythical city of Silathenial, but until seeing this piece, I was certain it was a hoax."

Di'Fier's mind whirled.  _Silathenial?  That can't be a coincidence._ "What was it doing on the island, then?"

"The earliest — in fact, the only — record I can find of this blade places it in the recent possession of a magus of the Sixth Circle known as Tralwyn Miras, also known as Tralwyn the Seeker," Falthar said.  "Miras vanished about a half-century ago, reputedly on a quest for the lost city of Silathenial.  The pages that you left seem to confirm this suspicion, as they bear distinctive marks of Tralwyn’s hand."

_He must have guessed - or known - about the inability to divine Silathenial,_ Dru thought.  _When he discovered the island, he probably assumed that it was the location of the lost city._  She looked to her partner, and it didn't take their years together to know that his thoughts were much the same.

"Accounts from his contemporaries do not bear any record of how he acquired the blade, but there are several references to the fact that it served Tralwyn in much the same way as a familiar.  It was reputedly intelligent and able to communicate, although," here, the sage sighed ruefully, "I have had no luck in causing it to do so.  If indeed it was Tralwyn’s familiar, then the shock of his death and the blade’s imprisonment for so many decades may have driven it into an unresponsive state.  It may be possible to awaken the sentience inside the blade, but I am not certain how one would go about it.  Tralwyn’s notes, if they could be found, might provide some clue."

"As for its abilities: like all weapons, it bears a dweomer of enhanced sharpness and durability, surpassing even a masterwork piece.  It seems to store an electric charge, although this may be a property of the alloy and not the magic placed upon it.  When held and concentrated upon, it allows its wielder to see those protected by invisibility, although one’s regular vision suffers while doing so.  The blade definitely bears other magics upon it — powerful ones — but at present I could not unlock their mysteries.  It may be that they could be awakened along with the dagger’s mind."

"Thank you, Falthar.  You've been most enlightening."






"We need to figure out what to do next," said Dru, looking around the common room of Brocail's.  The inn certianly lived up to its reputation of being able to house _anything_ - a pair of sooty-skinned, red-haired giants sat at an oversize table near the back.  "But not here."

"All right. My room?" Di'Fier pushed the trencher away and swallowed the remnants of his ale as he stood.  The pair climbed the stairs to the second floor, and Di'Fier carefully unlocked the door.

"Hang on, there's a lantern in here somewhere," Di'Fier said, moving into the darkened room.  Dru shrugged, the light spilling in from the corridor being more than sufficient for her needs. She saw Di'Fier reach for the lamp - and then movement beside him.

"Amateurs," said a voice, rough and scornful.


----------



## drnuncheon

*About damn time, Nuncheon!*

Yes, it is, isn't it.  But there you have it, after only a month or so.  Hopefully I will be a little more regular with these going forward!

J


----------



## Lela

*Re: About damn time, Nuncheon!*

Talk about that careful what you wish for thing.  Now you're a noble.  You have servents, luxury, tax revenue, more people who want to kill you, and a logistics nightmare involving tax revenue, servents, and even what people are supposed to call you.

Happy death day!



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Yes, it is, isn't it.  But there you have it, after only a month or so.  Hopefully I will be a little more regular with these going forward!
> 
> J *




YAY!

And all it took was some prodding in another thread.  I'll remember that.


----------



## Jon Potter

*Re: About damn time, Nuncheon!*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *But there you have it, after only a month or so.*




And just when I'd finally given up hope!



> *Hopefully I will be a little more regular with these going forward!
> *




That's what I like to hear.

Tell me, DrN, did you pick up 'A Magical Medieval Society: Western Europe' to generate some of these complications for Di'Fier or do you just have a better grasp of feudalism than I did prior to picking up the book?

And I love the scene with Dru in the bar. I finally picked up Bluffside (chiefly because of your comments on the setting, BTW) but I haven't had a chance to read through much of it yet. So I never know who's a published NPC and who's all yours, but I really like the one-handed vet. A very memorable character and he hasn't even said anything yet!


----------



## drnuncheon

*Re: Re: About damn time, Nuncheon!*



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *
> Tell me, DrN, did you pick up 'A Magical Medieval Society: Western Europe' to generate some of these complications for Di'Fier or do you just have a better grasp of feudalism than I did prior to picking up the book?*




I did a lot of research between the time I decided I wanted to run Legacy of Threehills (sometime around 'Terror in Freeport', I believe) and the time I actually did - MMS:WE is definitely a part of it, as are the Birthright 3e playtest rules that I'm using as the basis for his governing.  I fold, spindle and mutilate things, though, so it's not entirely like the system that was used in our own world.  (Read: don't base any history papers off of this story hour, kids!)

Right now, I think Di'Fier is dreading meeting his feudal superior, the Marquis of Riverwood.  But that's Book III.



			
				Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *And I love the scene with Dru in the bar. I finally picked up Bluffside (chiefly because of your comments on the setting, BTW) but I haven't had a chance to read through much of it yet. So I never know who's a published NPC and who's all yours, but I really like the one-handed vet. A very memorable character and he hasn't even said anything yet! *




Jakob is my own addition, named after the founder of the town.  When he went to join the army, he gave up his share of the inn to his younger brother, who married Chessa (from Brief Expeditions).  You'll be seeing more of him in Book 2.

One or two more updates, and then I think I'm going to start a new thread for the last plot arc of Inheritance - this one's getting a bit full


----------



## drnuncheon

The dwarf was hideous, even by matchlight.  _No,_ Dru corrected herself.  _Especially by matchlight._ The tiny flame wavered as he applied it to the end of his cigar, illuminating the ruin of the right side of his face as he puffed the tobbacco into glowing coals.  A clouded white eye stared out from a twisted mass of scar tissue, fixed sightlessly on the pair.  Two steel-grey braids hung from his chin - the rest of his hair was shaven or burned away.

He didn't seem concerned by the weapons pointed at him.  He made no move for the oversized axe that leaned against his chair.  Instead, he reached over to light the lamp that Di'Fier had been seeking, then rolled the match between his thick fingers to douse the flame.  "A couple of lucky amateurs," he repeated.

"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in our rooms?" Dru demanded, the point of her rapier never wavering.

"Put it down, girl," the dwarf said.  "You'd never have known I was here if I hadn't let you.  I ain't here to fight. I'm here to talk."

"Then talk fast." Dru didn't lower the blade an inch.  "Who _are_ you?"

The interloper took his time, leaning back in the chair and blowing a cloud of smoke into the dim light.  "Names are power, especially in my business.  You can call me...'One-Eye'."

"And what do you want?" asked Di'Fier.  Unlike his partner, he'd lowered his sword - but his open hand curled into the proper shape to conjure a _forceblast_.

"You."  The dwarf let that sink in a moment, then continued.  " There’s a real pretty speech they want me to read, but I don’t hold with that bullsh-t.  I’m going to tell it to you straight, and if that doesn’t sell you, then you ain’t the right people for the job."

"I work for the Tribunal," One-Eye continued.  "You probably ain’t heard of them, but they make sure that certain things don’t get out of hand.  Like that little incident with the Lighthouse you dealt with.  That kind of thing is too important to leave to the locals...or _adventurers_."  He pronounced the word with the same scorn that Dru did.  She slowly lowered her own blade, still watching the dwarf carefully.

"Trouble is, there ain’t enough of us field agents to go around.  Tangling with rogue wizards ain’t a great way to an increased life expectancy."  He leaned forward, shadows from the lamp tracing the scars on his face. "So things get missed.  Like the lighthouse, or what happened up in Luzern — an entire barony turned into walking dead before we got someone in there to stop the problem."

One-Eye leaned back, the chair creaking, and took a long draw on the cigar.  "So, the Tribunal’s recruiting, and they’re looking at you, after hearing what a couple of their agents had to say.   Here’s the deal:  You don’t get glory.  You don’t get pay.  More than likely, you get a closed casket funeral, and that’s if there’s enough left of you to bury."  He let it hang there a moment, then spoke one word:  "Interested?"

Dru looked at her companion.  "No pay...but we get to kill wizards.  That's a plus.  Do we get to keep their stuff?"

Downstairs, in the common room, the patrons of Brocail's could hear the roared laughter of a dwarf.


----------



## Jon Potter

At last! The Tribunal!

You dropped a hint somewhere along the line that Dru was looking at a wizard-killing PrC (I don't remember which one now) and I assumed that this was how it was going to go down. Good to see my deduction was correct.  

And another great NPC with 'One-Eye'!


----------



## Drusilia Nailo

Ah yes.  Now I finally get to start using Dru's hatred of wizards as something more than grumbling about them all the time (though I doubt she ever stops doing that!)


----------



## Jon Potter

Drusilia Nailo said:
			
		

> *Ah yes.  Now I finally get to start using Dru's hatred of wizards as something more than grumbling about them all the time (though I doubt she ever stops doing that!) *




It wouldn't be the same if she did!


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## Lela

Reminds me of the sci-fi campaign in which I'm a 4.5 foot rat.  These guys bring me to their headcorters out of nowhere and tell me they want me to hunt dragons for them.  DRAGONS!

Naturally, I asked what would happen to me if I refused.  The answer, of course, was dragon bait.

Seems the only real difference between the two is I get paid for doing it willingly.


Of course, we're still first level and havn't seen a dragon yet.  But I have my casket picked out (it's in my will).  I want it to be burried whether or not I'm in any shape to be put in it.


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## Zarthon

*Re: About damn time, Nuncheon!*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Yes, it is, isn't it.  But there you have it, after only a month or so.  Hopefully I will be a little more regular with these going forward!
> 
> J *




Happy days , It's good to hear about Dru & Di'Fier again.


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## DiFier

It might be a while untill we get another update.  Dr. N got his 3.5 books on monday.


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## Jon Potter

DiFier said:
			
		

> *It might be a while untill we get another update.*




DRAT!!


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## Lela

Dang firggen monkey.


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## DiFier

Actually I'm pretty psyched.  That means that at some point we will start palying Dru and Di'Fier again.  Soon.  Of course My campaign isn't quite at a stopping point.  but it will be soon, maybe.  or at least a good pause point.


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## Jon Potter

DiFier-

any chance of you updating either of your story hours since DrN's going to be buy with rule changes for the foreseeable future?


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## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *Actually I'm pretty psyched.  That means that at some point we will start palying Dru and Di'Fier again.  Soon.  Of course My campaign isn't quite at a stopping point.  but it will be soon, maybe.  or at least a good pause point. *




It also means you'll probably be seeing more steady updates.  For some reason it's a lot easier for me to write about the game when I'm actually running it...

I think that _Hell in Freeport_ is going to have to wait, though.  With the new 3.5 changes, devils are scary...

J


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## Seule

Personally, I was very unimpressed with Hell in Freeport, particularly after the first 3 modules.  I'll probably be leaving it out entirely when my players get that far (and with them currently sitting at 8th and 9th level, it won't be long).
Oddly enough, I expect a Freeport mod to be set in Freeport.  Call me odd, but too much of HiF just doesn't feel like a freeport mod to me.

  --Seule


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## DiFier

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> *DiFier-
> 
> any chance of you updating either of your story hours since DrN's going to be buy with rule changes for the foreseeable future? *




Yeah I've started the next update for the long road storyhour.  I had been really busy with work and DMing that I haven't had much time to write.


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## DiFier

plus now I have my 3.5 books


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## drnuncheon

*I am a tease.*

Go here to see the trailer for the next thread.  When will it start? Uhm...soon.


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## Lela

*Re: I am a tease.*



			
				drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Go here to see the trailer for the next thread.  When will it start? Uhm...soon. *




Whoa.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!


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## Greg Dickens

That is just plain mean.  You need to quit your job and finish this Now.  LOL


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## DiFier

oh oh oh.  I want to see this.  

But You forgot the *big* explosion.  all trailers must have big explosions.  and there is a really big one!  

I can't wait to see this movie (doh)


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## DiFier

Are there going to be mulitipul trailers?  Can I make one?  I'll e-mail it to you. maybe I'll just send you a outline cause You're way better at this than I am.


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## drnuncheon

Well, if that was the "Dru" trailer, I'd love to make a "Di'Fier" one.  There's a lot more that could be fit in, including the line that kicked off the idea of the trailer for me, which didn't make it in. (A certain exchange about a backpack.)

Well, anyway: go here.


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## DiFier

you mean the stinky one?


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## drnuncheon

DiFier said:
			
		

> *you mean the stinky one? *




That'd be the one.


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## DiFier

drnuncheon said:
			
		

> *Dru looked at her companion.  "No pay...but we get to kill wizards.  That's a plus.  Do we get to keep their stuff?"
> 
> Downstairs, in the common room, the patrons of Brocail's could hear the roared laughter of a dwarf. *




is this the end of This story hour?  I don't remember if anything more happened.  but your've started the queen of lies s.h. so I am assuming that that was the last post.


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## drnuncheon

Yep, we're pretty much done here.  There's a couple of loose ends, but nothing important to the story that I can't introduce in the next part.

The advantage of reading this as opposed to playing in it is that you get to skip all the less exciting parts! 

J


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## Dæmon

I just finnished reading Fear and Loathing in Haven and remembered these. Thought i'd put them in easy reach again.

Unfortunatly the original thread is locked drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour


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