Adventure 3 - Reaching St Austead
General Summary
The events of the previous night haunted Balfor Boreus as he galloped along in wildshaped form besides his newly found companions. He kept replaying the last 24 hours over and over in his head, trying to understand just how he had managed to get caught up in all of this mess that he found himself in the midst of. The sight of Cora Lunasong dying in front of him on the Jousting grounds would stay with him for a long time, but the thing that kept playing over and over in his mind was the image of the Duke transforming and changing into the terrifying form of the Doppleganger that then attacked them all. Grognak Odinson rode beside him on horseback, not having said a word since they left Wiverhead the prior night. Ahead of them both rode Qildor of Gilgalad leading the way as the three of them galloped for the whole day, keen to put as much ground between them and Wiverhead as possible and, as they had agreed, to try and reach St Austead as quickly as possible to try and talk to the King.
It was dark before they decided to stop and make camp. Their horses had been riding hard all day and they had made good ground, but they were getting both tired and hungry now. Balfor, transforming back into his regular Dwarven form, lay down on the nearest log just off of the main road that they had been travelling, keen to rest his aching limbs. It wasn’t long before he drifted off to sleep, the sound of the blowing wind and the trees swaying in the breeze helping him to relax his weary eyes.
Balfor awoke gently, the sun warming the skin of his cheeks. He was lying down beneath a large oak tree overlooking a luscious green field. He smiled broadly as he heard his daughter Whukkini Brewminer laughing and joking nearby as she played with her mother Grolgithra Brewminer. Propping himself up at the base of the tree, he watched as they both ran playfully through the tall grass, his beautiful wife chasing and picking up Whukkini when she caught up with her. Balfor watched them contently as the midday sun shone down on all of them – he loved this feeling and spending time with his family.
"Daddy, Daddy, look!" the excited voice of his daughter shouting out to get his attention. Looking over at her, Balfor watched in awe as Whukkini stood, arms stretched out wide as dozens and dozens of colourful butterflies fluttered around her, gently landing and covering her. He had never seen anything like it. He got up and made his way over to her, as she stood giggling and watching the insects carefully land on her. Grolgithra joined her, wondering at the stunning sight before her. As Balfor made his way over to the two of them, the field itself seemed to come to life, wild flowers blooming into spectacular colours beneath his feet. The trees around them blossomed into a thousand different spring time shades, as the gentle breeze rustles the leaves softly. His daughter is covered in butterflies, their wings slowly opening and closing as though she were rippling with life. In a sudden instance, all of the butterflies take to the skies, flying around the three of them before making their way up into the clear blue sky.
At that very moment, the weather seems to turn and there is a chill in the air. The skies turn grey as dark clouds roll in and rain begins to fall. Before any of them move, Balfor notices that a number of dark shadowy figures are emerging at the edges of the forest that encircle the field. More and more step into sight as the three of them realise that they are surrounded. Turning around, Balfor sees that the field’s flowers that had just bloomed seem to wither and die. The leaves on the trees turn red and grey, before falling to the ground where they seem to rot instantly. Turning back to face his family, he is shocked to see them appear to age and wither before his eyes – their skin turning ashen grey and then black, before their entire form turns to dust, blowing away in the gusting wind. Balfor doesn’t know what to do, looking all around him as the shadowy figures slowly make their way towards him menacingly. Before he even gets the chance to run or fight, a hand holding a knife appears from behind him and holds it to his neck. He can feel a large presence behind him, but daren’t move to turn around. He can hear a wheezing breath behind him, before it whispers something in his ear "We should talk..."
“And this is the guy you want to go and talk to?” Grognak asks.
Qildor reads the whole document a few more times before moving. “This makes no sense?!? I know the King, this doesn’t sound like him at all.”
Balfor, having heard what Qildor has said and still holding his spear against the soldier’s neck, feels that the situation has died down. “Turn around and go back the way you came. Better yet, take that uniform off and get as far away from this land as you can. Understand!”
“Yes, yes. I promise. Just don’t kill me, please! Don’t give me to that barbarian.” Balfor studies the soldiers face carefully. He’s clearly telling the truth, a terrified expression etched across him. He kicks away the soldier’s weapon before lowering his spear. “Th... Thank you,” he replied before turning and running down the road from whence he came as fast as he can, disappearing into the darkness.
“I want you to get these for me and then meet me at the Cloak & Dagger tavern, as soon as you can, understand!” With that, he passes them a rather worn, tattered map of the city, where he marks some locations for them to help them navigate round where the required shops are. “Remember, don’t trust anyone and try not to use any magic – it will just make things more difficult.” Not wanting to waste any time, Qildor gets back on the wagon and sets off toward the city gates.
Looking down at the list and map that they had been given, Balfor and Zook make their way towards the city gates, dropping the horse off at the nearest stable.
Whilst running between the different shops and emporiums, Balfor noticed an odd man pass them by. He was somewhat old, quite skinny and wore tattered clothes that looked as though they were in dire need of repair. This man was carrying a rather large sack hung over his shoulder that appeared to be wet and glistening. He watched as the man passed them, observing the strange dripping of red liquid that fell to the floor behind him from the sack. Taking a closer look he thought it looked very much like blood to him, splattered on the ground. Every ounce of his being wanted to follow this suspicious guy and see what he was up to, but he put all that to one side as he felt that getting these items back to Qildor for Grognak was far more important than anything else right now. Reluctantly, he checked his map and led Zook towards the tavern where they had arranged to meet.
From the outside ‘The Cloak & Dagger’ looked like any other tavern. Found near the dock and industrial districts, the pub was a pretty popular place, especially at this time of day – workers popping in for a quick drink on their lunch break. Even from outside, Balfor and Zook could hear the rowdy crowd of people from within. Why Qildor wanted them to meet him here was anyone’s guess. He hated going into taverns these days and would, if he could, try to avoid them altogether. They held too many bad memories for him and he still struggled on a daily basis with his alcohol addiction that never fully went away, even if he’d been sober for the last year or so. They headed inside to be greeted by a friendly looking barmaid who was gathering some of the empty mugs of ale from the tables. “Hi, welcome to the Cloak & Dagger. What can I get ya?” She showed them to a small table that was free and handed them a menu for them to look at.
“Erm, we’re actually looking for someone - an Elf. He’s tall, has white hair, acts kinda serious all the time. Goes by the name Qildor?” Balfor asked her. Zook was too busy taking a look at all of the things on the menu, realising that he hadn’t eaten anything for days.
“Oh! In that case, you’ll be needing this instead.” With that, the barmaid took back the menus that she had given them, swapping them with some different ones that she had tucked away in her apron. “Just need the password lads,” before she turned and walked off to deal with another customer that had walked in.
Balfor looked over the new menu with confusion. It was different that the original, but it still looked like a normal tavern menu to him. Zook, sitting next to him, was busy reading through all the different options that were listed, his mouth watering at all the food options. Balfor must have read through the menu a dozen times before he noticed the peculiar prices that were listed for each item – though he couldn’t quite work out what that meant, let alone work out some sort of password from it.
“So, what can I get ya?” the familiar voice of the barmaid came from over their shoulder. Before he could even answer, Zook interrupted and started reading off a whole host of things from the menu. The barmaid just laughed in response, jotting down all of his order on a little notepad. “...and, have you got anything else for me?” she asked, turning back to Balfor – subtly referring to the password.
“Erm... yeah. Do I need to give you 55cp???” He guessed, having added up all of the prices on the menu.
The barmaid giggled, seeing that Balfor was at least trying. Seeing him struggle, she leaned in and whispered to him, “Maybe you should count something else,” before she left to prepare all of the things that Zook had ordered.
Balfor again read through the menu numerous times, wondering what she had meant by count. He was beginning to get frustrated, not in the least by the distracting smell of booze in the air and the rowdy, jovial noise from all the other people in the pub having a good time. How he wanted to have a drink in that moment.
“Any luck?” the barmaid asked, carrying a large tray of plates and mugs over to their table. Zook’s eyes lit up as she placed all the food in front of him, tucking in immediately into the cheese pastry that looked so inviting to him.
“Hmm, maybe... two carrots???” he again guessed, seeing that at least ‘Carrot’ was mentioned twice on the menu.
“I’ll give you a few more minutes flower. Maybe you could always try putting them in alphabetical order,” she hinted before heading off again to deal with a punter stood at the bar.
Puzzle Answer
At this point Balfor’s patience was wearing thin. He needed to get these items to Qildor for Grognak and, if not more so, he needed to get out of this tempting pub – his craving for alcohol becoming stronger and stronger. Zook, still munching on all of the different food at the table, took a moment to look over the menu again – this time trying to work out the password for himself. Balfor stood up from his chair and walked out the front door, wanting some air and to clear his head. Seeing that there was a small bush nestled on one side of the tavern, he hatched a rather rushed plan. Looking around hastily and seeing that there weren’t many people around at that moment he decided to risk it – walking behind the bush and turning himself into a rat (Cast – Wildshape). Despite checking, a man who was drinking across the alleyway saw this – his mouth dropping at the unusual sight of a small dwarf transforming himself into such a small creature. Balfor, in rat form, ran back into the tavern through the front door and made a dash for the back room behind the bar, hoping that he might be able to get some answers there perhaps. He almost instantly regretted this plan as there were a lot of people’s feet to dodge as he weaved his way through the people stood drinking and talking in the tavern. Skilfully, he managed to get right to the back of the room, almost all the way, before the barmaid from before spotted him and started screaming at the sight. Balfor tried to turn and run, but before he could, the barmaid was slamming her foot down, trying to squash the little vermin. He managed to avoid the first few stomps of her foot, but getting somewhat cornered, she trod firmly on him squashing him firmly into the floor. This caused Balfor to transform back into his regular form, laying flat on his back on the floor of the pub, beneath the foot of the screaming barmaid. The whole pub seemed to stop and look at the two of them – you could have dropped a pin and heard it hit the floor in that instance. It was at that exact moment that Zook decided to stand up on his chair, from the back of the room and shout, as loud as he could, “Chimera!” the password that he had worked out from the menu.
The annoyed barmaid helped Balfor to his feet and ushered him into the back room, before going and grabbing Zook as well. The two of them stood there unsure of what to do next, hearing the slow murmur of the tavern return as the customers started gossiping about what they had just seen. “What the hell are you doing? Everyone just saw you!” she sternly whispered, shutting the curtain behind her as she came back from the bar area.
“We need to help our friend, he’s hurt badly. Qildor said to meet here.” Balfor said, not really sure what was going on and whether that fact that the whole pub saw him use magic was going to come back to bite him.
“This is why we try to keep a low profile here. I’m going to have to change the password now,” she said turning towards Zook, who still chewing on a nicely cooked boar’s leg that he was holding in his hand. “He’s upstairs, go and see him.”
“The children of what?” Balfor questioned, looking at Qildor.
Qildor sighed, turning to look at the two of them. “The Children of Gaia. It’s a somewhat clandestine faction of people who fight for the preservation and protection of nature and everything that lives among it.”
“Yeah, we met a while back on a faction mission. We just stand up and fight for Mother Nature where we can since nobody else does,” Joy explained. “I’m surprised Qildor hadn’t told you about us before. I presumed he was recruiting you.”
“I hadn’t decided yet,” Qildor said, turning towards Joy with an annoyed look on his face.
“Well they helped out your friend, and we do need members. If you won’t I will,” with that she stood from where she was sitting, walking over to them. “Would you like to join us?”
Balfor was quite amused by the fact that Qildor and Joy seemed to disagree somewhat, but did like the sound of what the Children of Gaia seemed to stand for. “Sure! Why not?”
“Great!” Joy smiled and shook his hand. “As a token of good will for joining, I... or rather ‘We’ would like to give you this,” with that she went and retrieved something from her bag, before handing it over to Balfor.
As he took it and unfolded it, he saw a rather underwhelming green cloak. “...Thanks, but I don’t really wear cloaks.”
“You don’t like it?” she asked smiling. “That’s ok, I can change it.” Joy took back the cloak, standing with it held up for him to see. With one flap in the air, the cloak magically changed shape and colour into a different looking cloak, “What about this one?” She flapped at it again, altering its appearance once more, “...or this one perhaps?” (Gained magicaly item - Cloak of Many Fashions)
“Oh wow! Ok, ok, maybe I like it after all,” Balfor said standing and draping the cloak over his shoulders.
“Enough! We have more important things to discuss,” Qildor stated, somewhat annoyed at the direction the conversation had taken. “We need to find some way of talking to the King. He needs to know about the Duke and the Doppelganger.”
“Qildor’s right, we need to discuss what has happened. He told me what happened to you in Wiverhead. Whilst that is deeply worrying, there are suspicious things happening here too. The children of Gaia have had reports of children and newborns being killed simply because they were magically attuned. The magic ban in the city has probably got something to do with it, but to murder children – that seems too much for even the crown to condone, especially King Alexander, who has always been known to be a just and honourable man.” Joy explained, returning to her seat beside Grognak to change his dressing.
“So we talk to the King, ok.” Zook replied; keen to help his new friends.
“Do you have any leads on the children? Any idea who may be behind it?” Balfor asked, sitting back down himself, wearing his new cloak.
“As of yet... no. I have been tasked with investigating this myself, but haven’t found anything concrete to follow. I did witness a suspicious man come to the cemetery where the children were going to be buried. He was spotted carrying a sack on his shoulder, and he looked to be quite old and thin.”
Balfor looked up at Joy with a bolt, recognising the description. “I think I’ve seen him, earlier today. He walked past us whilst we were out shopping. You saw him too, right Zook?”
“Nope. Didn’t see him.” Zook replied, somewhat distracted by a trinket on a table next to him.
“Ok, that’s something at least. Maybe we could send someone back to where you saw him and see if we can spot him again. Maybe follow him to see where he goes,” Qildor added. “What about the King, how are we going to get in the Royal Palace to see him? There are guards all over the place, and that’s not even considering getting into the Lords district, which is also guarded at the gate.”
“If I made myself look more respectable and noble-like, I may be able to sneak into the Lords district and scout out the place. Maybe I can spot a way of getting into the palace somehow,” Balfor added, keen to try out his new cloak.
Qildor considered Balfor’s plan, “Hmm, that might just work. You should probably go and purchase some other clothes maybe, and take Zook with you to buy some gear. All the soldiers took everything from him, he’s currently unarmed.”
Zook and Balfor made their way back out into the streets of St Austead, keen to make the most of the rest of the afternoon. They went back to some of the shops that they had visited before, buying supplies and equipment that they needed. Balfor picked up some more expensive looking clothes and a nice ring, whereas Zook picked up some weapons and armour for himself. Balfor made a point to show Zook the spot that he had seen the suspicious man from earlier, before the two of them headed back to the Cloak & Dagger to prepare for the missions ahead.
End of Adventure 3Questions Need To Be Asked
Balfor awoke suddenly, Grognak holding a knife pressed against his throat. “We should talk!” He just nodded as he looked up at the barbarian, lit by a small camp fire that glowed nearby. Qildor was crouched beside it, adding sticks and small branches as he encouraged the fire to burn brighter. “You sold us both out dwarf, explain yourself!” Grognak slowly lifted the knife from his neck and pulled him up, sitting Balfor on the log that he had fallen asleep upon, before sitting opposite him, knife in hand. “I... erm... well, I... just...” Balfor stammered, scared that these two men were going to kill him and bury his body in these dark woods for nobody to find if he answered them wrongly. How had he got mixed up with these people – he just wanted to look after the horses back in Wiverhead stable. “You sold me out to the Duke, or whatever that thing was back there. Why?” Grognak demanded, his piercing eyes gazing back at him. “Why heal me, and then turn me in like that?” “What would you have had me do? The Duke demanded that I find you both and hand you over or they were going to kill my Boss. I don’t know you. I’d just met you before the Dragon Fall Fair, and then you and Cora attacked the Duke. I didn’t know your motives. I’m just a stable hand who has been dragged into all this.” Balfor replied, knowing that he just needed to be honest to the now, no matter what. “And why should we believe you? You already lied to us before,” Qildor added, standing up from the fire and walking over to tower over him. “You told me that you had taken Grognak to the stables where he was safe - yet you had handed him over. And then when you led me out of the tower to go and get him, the Duke was there waiting for us with an ambush. How do we know that you are telling us the truth now?” “Because of what happened last night! We all saw what the Duke turned into. Had I known that it was some kind of monster posing as him, I would never have done that, but like I said, I was just trying to save my Boss. I helped you fight the thing didn’t I? We killed it together.” Balfor pleaded with them, looking up to Qildor as he seemed to be the more reasonable of the two of them. Qildor looked down at him, seeming to consider and reflect on everything that had happened. “You’re a Druid, right?” he asked. “Yes, but a fairly new one. I can only wildshape into a few creatures right now.” Qildor seemed to consider his words for an eternity before turning to Grognak. “Leave him, he may turn out to be useful yet.” With that, he turned and walked out into the forest, his form disappearing from the light of the camp fire. “Hmm,” Grognak growled, before leaning in toward Balfor again – his knife pointed at his neck. “He is a lot more trusting than I am. Cross us again and I will kill you Dwarf.” With that, Grognak returned to his seat, before slipping his knife back in its sheath. Balfor let out a sigh of relief as the tension in the camp seemed to ease somewhat. He could smell the familiar scent of alcohol on Grognak’s breath as he watched him swig at a large bottle of Whisky, his head down looking down at something in his hand. Listening carefully his could faintly hear him muttering something to himself, “Why did you take her from me?” Balfor could sympathise with him, who was clearly upset at the loss of Cora. The three of them had stopped very briefly in the afternoon to replenish their water supply. Grognak had insisted that he bury Cora’s body in a small clearing – he had carefully wrapped her in a sheet before leaving Wiverhead the night before. He hadn’t dared to say anything at that moment, instead just watching as this strong, rugged barbarian had carefully placed her body and said some private words before filling in the earth again and arranging some rocks atop of it. Qildor had watched as well, sitting beneath a tree and taking a quiet moment himself. Balfor’s attention was brought back into focus as Qildor emerged into camp without a sound from the pitch black darkness of the forest. He had a dead rabbit in his hand, his bow hanging loosely from his back. Kneeling beside the fire, he offered a prayer up to Celestina, before taking his knife out and starting to skilfully butcher the animal. “So what is the plan?” Balfor meekly asked. Qildor pointed to a small bag that was propped up against one of the logs, before continuing his work with the rabbit. “We take that to King Alexander IV in St Austead and show him it exclusively, he will know what to do. We don’t know who we can trust right now, but I trust him.” Qildor was referring to the Doppleganger head that he had cut off and put in a bag before they had left Wiverhead. At first he was somewhat horrified that he had taken that, but in hindsight it was a smart move. Who would believe our story without any kind of proof – at least we had that to show anyone, Balfor thought to himself. Not knowing what to say or do, he decided to try and help out by looking for any kind of materials that may help them make a more comfortable camp. He managed to find some old, discarded animal skins that had been treated and turned into blankets in the forest just off of the road nearby. He figured that a crate must have fallen off the back of a wagon whilst travelling on the road at some point. Taking them back to camp, Grognak and Qildor seemed quite thankful for his help – at least he was trying. Just as Qildor was placing the prepared carcass of the rabbit over the fire, the three of them were surprised to hear people approaching them from the road. Not knowing who it was and with the threat of it potentially being soldiers sent out to find them, they all decided to make their way into the forest and hide to see who they were first.
Down The Road The Strangers Travel
The three of them waited patiently as the people slowly approached down the road. They could hear the trotting of a horse, the wheels of a cart or wagon and numerous different footsteps. It wasn’t until the small contingent passed by their camp’s fire that they could make out any of them. There were five soldiers all walking besides a single horse and cart, wearing somewhat basic armour and all carrying a large spear in hand. Balfor’s heart sunk as he saw the soldiers stop beside the fire – he’d been hoping and praying that they would have just carried on walking, not wanting any more trouble if he could help it. “Jackpot!” one of the soldiers shouted, as he approached the camp fire apprehensively. “Hello? Anybody there?” he called out. Three of the soldiers joined him and sat around the fire, picking up the cooked rabbit and taking a bite out of one of the legs, before passing it around the group. One of the soldiers also found the bottle of whisky that Grognak had been drinking and started swigging on it. Balfor looked over to Qildor and Grognak who were hiding behind a rather large bush several meters away from the firelight. Even from here, he could see that the two of them were grasping hold of their weapons, ready to fight if needed. Balfor, not wanting to see any more bloodshed decided to intervene. He gathered some sticks and branches near where he was hiding and quickly made his way towards camp. Just as he was walking out, he heard Grognak whisper toward him “What are you doing dwarf? Get back here!” He ignored him, carrying on walking. Grognak turned towards Qildor “He’s going to sell us out again!” “Oh, Hello!” Balfor casually said as he walked back into the firelight, the four guards around the camp clutching at their spears as he took them by surprise. “Make yourself at home, I was just getting some more firewood,” he lied, sitting back down on the log. “Oh, we are,” the guards laughed as they ate and drank what they liked. Balfor could see the fifth guard standing off a little way in the dark, somewhat more hesitantly, beside the cart that they were accompanying down the road. “You on your own?” Balfor didn’t quite like the way that the one guard addressed him, but chose not to react. “Yes, I’m travelling alone. I’m just heading towards Wiverhead. What about yourselves? Where are you guys heading?” “We’re on our way to St Austead. Got important cargo to deliver – a prisoner,” the soldier sat next to him replied. Balfor looked towards the cart again and peered as best as he could toward the back where the cargo was. It looked as though they were just transporting some old sheets and blankets, but as he looked carefully he could see something was moving beneath them. “Hey, Dwarf. We are very appreciative of your generous hospitality, what with sharing all your food and whiskey with us,” they laughed, clearly making fun of him. “Since we are soldiers transporting prisoners and all, maybe you’d like to pay us a generous fee. Think of it like a ‘Don’t take me to jail’ tax.” The soldiers once more laughed heartily at him as they passed around the rabbit to one another. “... and how much would that be,” Balfor replied rather meekly. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe 10gp... each.” Again, the soldiers let out a huge laugh between them. Balfor could sense that no matter what he said to these soldiers, they were going to take him for all that he had if he let them. He decided to take a chance and hope that Qildor and Grognak would back him up if needed. Balfor, spotting that the soldier nearest to him had propped up his spear beside the log, slowly reached out and tried to grab it with one hand without anyone seeing. Just as his fingers were closing around the shaft, he knocked it, causing it to fall into the fire. “Ah, you idiot!” the soldier yelled, quickly standing up and trying to retrieve his weapon out, burning himself somewhat as he struggled to grab it. With the commotion going on, Balfor reached for his own spear and held it up to one of the other soldier’s necks. “What you playing at short-arse? Are you dumb? There are five of us and one of you. You aint gonna kill us all. Put the spear down now!” Balfor wasn’t actually sure what he was going to do at this moment. He wanted to try and intimidate them, try if he could to get them to go away, but nothing would come out of his mouth. It was as if he had a frog in his throat. “Err...” “Oh, just kill him and be over with it,” one of the other soldiers said, picking up his spear and turning toward Balfor. With that, Balfor felt he had no other choice but to fight. He plunged his own spear into the soldier’s neck, pulling it out with a loud squelch as he clung to his neck, blood pouring from his wound. An arrow flew silently through the air, emerging from the dark forest behind him and plunging into the shoulder of the approaching soldier, wincing at the sudden pain. “He’s not alone! There are more of them!” The soldiers shouted, getting to their feet as quickly as possible and arming themselves. Caught totally off guard, the soldiers tried swinging and thrusting their spears towards Balfor, but each of them missed – Balfor being prepared for the ensuing attack. Dodging the last of the weapons, he turned his spear towards the ground and, with one big stab, he plunged it into the foot of the soldier before him who was still grasping at his neck as blood gushed through his fingers, soaking his front a crimson shade of red. The soldier fell to his knees, passing out, before falling into the camp fire to burn. A loud, furious “Aaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhhh!” bellows from the darkness of the forest before Grognak, axe in hand, runs out and cuts down one of the soldiers where he stood, killing him instantly. He has a fierce look in his eye, all the anger and rage seething inside of him coming to the boil in that moment. He turns his attention to the soldiers who had been struck in the shoulder with an arrow and lets out another passionate scream towards him. The soldier in question, terrified by the sight of this large barbarian apprehensively moves toward him, thrusting his spear into his leg. Despite wounding him, Grognak doesn’t flinch, barely feeling any of the pain as he enjoys the thrill of combat. A number of arrows fly past the two of them, missing their target as Qildor tries to take out the attacking soldier. One of the soldiers lunges toward Balfor but misses, his foot catching on the body of the burning soldier in the fire causing him to stumble. Balfor, seeing his opportunity, rams his spear as hard as he can into the belly of the man, passing right through him. He drops his own weapon, clutching at the spear that has skewered his torso, before one of Qildor’s arrows flies silently out of the woodland and pierces his skull, making him drop limply falling into the fire beside his former comrade. The soldier that had been standing beside the wagon, witnessing the sudden turn of events, ran toward the camp heading for Balfor. Grognak, with fire in his eyes, takes a swing at the leg of the soldier before him. It cuts into him deeply at the knee, making him scream out in agony. Before he can even finish yelling out on pain, Grognak lets go with another strike, taking off his head in one clean move. Despite taking two of the soldiers down quickly, Grognak still has rage burning within him – the aching sadness of losing Cora still raw pulling on his heart. He goes into a pure blood lust, taking his axe and striking down with all his strength at the two bodies that lay at his feet. Strike after strike, hit after hit, Grognak continues to chop and cut – blood spraying all over him as he lets go of all of the emotion pent up inside of him. The last of the soldiers approaching Balfor, sees the horrific and terrifying sight of the raging barbarian covered in blood, lit only by the light of the flickering fire light. Seeing another opportunity, Balfor thrusts his spear at his neck and holds it firmly against him, “Surrender and we will talk!” The soldier quickly drops his weapon, raising his hands above his head, “Ok, ok! I surrender. Please! I’ll talk. Just don’t let that Barbarian anywhere near me, please.” His eyes were transfixed on Grognak, who was still striking down with all his fury at the red mush of blood and guts that covered the ground at his feet. “We didn’t want any trouble, you should have just carried on walking past our camp. Who are you and what are you doing here? What’s your orders?” Balfor said sternly, his spear remaining pointed at his exposed neck. “I... I’m... I’m just a regular soldier, nobody important. We... We’re on our way to St Austead, tran... transporting a prisoner.” “Who’s the prisoner? What’s his crime?” “I... I don’t know who he is. We... We picked him up a few days south of here. He... He was using magic.” As Balfor is talking to the soldier, Qildor appears quietly from the forest behind them, his arrow drawn and pointing towards him. “Since when is magic an offence?” he asked, standing behind them, aimed at the Soldiers head. “We have or... orders from the King. Anyone using ma... magic without an official permit is to be arr... arrested and brought to the capital.” “Which King?” Qildor asks, a confused look on his face. “K... K... King Alexander IV, of Veritria. I have an official order in my pocket. It’s been sent out across the whole Kingdom. I... I’m just doing my job.” Qildor releases the tension in his string, returning the arrow to his quiver and shouldering the bow on his back. He pats down the soldier, retrieving a folded piece of parchment from his tunic. Reading it silently, his expression turns from mild confusion to utter bewilderment. As he is reading, Grognak finally stops his assault on the dead corpses, completely covered in blood – picking up the half drunk bottle of whiskey from the floor and sitting, chugging down a few big mouthfuls, before turning toward Qildor. “Well, don’t leave us in the dark Elf. What does it say?” Qildor proceeds to read out the order to the group.
Friend or Foe
“I hope that was a wise decision Dwarf,” Grognak said, pouring water over himself from the waterskin that he had been carrying, trying to clean some of the blood from his face. “What about... that,” Balfor said, nodding toward the horse and cart. “He said something about a prisoner.” Qildor, tucking away the written King’s orders in his tunic, turns and walks toward the cart. He pulls out a dagger as he apprehensively nears the back, before slowly pulling up the blankets to look at what lay beneath. Balfor watches as he does this, unsure at who or even what lay at the back of the wagon. He watches as Qildor throws back the blankets, seeming to say something to whoever was laying there. After a minute or so, Qildor sheaths his dagger back in his belt, before pulling the person from the back of the cart, falling to the floor beside him. He helps the individual to their feet and leads them back towards the camp fire. It’s only until they walk back into the fire light that Balfor can begin to see the features of the person. Stood before him, arms still tied behind their back was a small boy, who looked very much like a young Gnome. He had large pointed ears, short hair with a slight pink tint to it and he must have only stood three foot tall or so. “What’s your name lad?” Balfor asked calmly, seeing that the young boy was quite scared. The gnome looked around the camp at each of the party members and then at the bodies of the four soldiers scattered about. “Erm, I’m Zook. Zook Fizzingbuns.” “We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. Just want to know how did you ended up in the back of that wagon? Don’t see many Gnomes in this part of the world. What’s your story?” “I was on a ship, a stowaway travelling from the Southern continent. I was fleeing my home and I just jumped aboard the first ship that I saw anchored in the harbour. There are strange things happening back home, unusual monsters roaming the forests that nobody talks about – I just wanted to get out of there. Anyway, I don’t even know how long I was on that ship – weeks, months maybe, it’s hard to tell. Some of the sailors found me when I was taking some food from the ships provisions – that didn’t go down well. They wanted to throw me overboard there and then, but the Captain decided to put me in the brig instead, said he’d hand me over to the authorities when we arrived in a place called Merrifort, wherever that is. We must have dropped anchor a few days later in port. Some soldiers came aboard and took me off the ship, told me they were gonna sell me to someone – that was until they caught me using magic. I was only messing about with a ‘Minor Illusion’ spell, I wasn’t trying to harm anybody, but they said magic was banned here or something. They threw me in the back of that wagon and we’ve be travelling for weeks along the road. That was, until we stopped right here.” As Zook described how he got here, he seemed to relax quite quickly with the three of them, despite not knowing anything about them. He sat beside Balfor, rummaging through some of the camp equipment looking at all of the different unusual items that they were carrying with them. “Have you got anywhere to go?” Balfor asked him, admiring Zook’s youthful exuberance. “Do you know anyone in St Austead?” “St where? I don’t really know where I am really?" “St Austead, it’s the capital of Veritria, a large city with lots of people. We are heading there now.” “Sounds fun,” Zook replied, as he busily looked through the playing card set that Balfor had in his backpack. “Can I come?” Balfor just looked towards Grognak and Qildor, almost looking for their approval. Zook seemed genuine and didn’t appear to be telling any lies as far as he could tell. “Erm... Sure! Why not?” “We need to move,” Qildor interjected, quickly gathering the party’s belongings and packing everything away. “We don’t want to be found in a situation like this, we’re in deep enough as it is.” The group loaded all of their supplies onto the cart, figuring that it was better to take it with them, rather than leave it by the side of the road. The other advantage that they had would be that they would be able to ride through the night, taking turns at the reigns. Balfor (Casting – Speak with Animals) went over to their own horse, who was still tied to a tree munching on some of the leaves nearby for a quick chat. He explained that they needed to move again, despite having travelled for the whole day prior. Though still tired, the horse seemed thankful that he had shared the plan with her before hand, agreeing to help them on their journey to the city.On The Road Again
The party rode through the dead of night down the bumpy road. Every few hours they would switch, allowing one of them to get some rest on the back of the wagon. Zook was very eager to take the reins and, after a bit of tuition from Balfor, took a shift guiding the cart through the countryside. A golden hue of light washed over them as the sun rose from the horizon as night turned to day. They continued their travels through small villages and past large farms as they made their way along the road, passing only a handful of people as they went. They were making good time, switching the horses whenever they stopped to give them a break from pulling the cart such a long way. It must have been midday, the sun shining high in the sky above them, when Balfor woke from the back of the cart as they came to a sudden stop. Grognak had been at the front, guiding the cart down the road, when all of a sudden he passed out and fell, hard, into the dirt of the road. Concerned for his friend, Qildor jumped off of the horse that he was riding behind them and made his way over to him. Grognak didn’t look in good shape. He was shivering and sweating at the same time, as he slowly came too in a bit of a daze. “Let me look at you,” Qildor firmly asked, helping him to sit up, propped up against the wheel of the cart. He could see that there was some blood on the inside of Grognak’s shirt that gave off a terrible odour. Pulling it up to take a look, he was shocked to see that Grognak’s wound from being stabbed by the Black Knight back in Wiverhead had gotten worse, much worse. He had cast ‘Cure Wounds’ back then and there and not thought any more of it, but from the look of it, the wound was infected. Puss and blood seeped from the gash under his ribs and black veins surrounding the cut seemed to spread, as though slowly trying to cover his torso. Qildor hadn’t seen anything like this before, but he was pretty sure that whatever it was that was causing it, was poison. Concerned, Qildor turned to Balfor and Zook, “We need to get him to someone that can help, quickly! This seems to be spreading. I have a contact in St Austead that might be able to help, but we need to get moving, now!” The three of them, with some difficulty due to his immense size, managed to pick Grognak up and put him in the back of the wagon, covering him with some of the sheets in the back to help keep him warm. To help save on weight, they transferred some of their equipment to the horse, to which Zook began riding. Balfor cast ‘Wildshape’ on himself, transforming into another horse – and carrying some more of the party’s equipment. Qildor took the reins of the wagon, with only Grognak on the back, and they all began their journey again. They travelled through the afternoon, seeing the sun set to the west behind them as they continued their travels into the night. They were making excellent time. What they originally planned would take a couple of days travel; they did in a day – not stopping until sunrise as the city of St Austead slowly came into view over the horizon. Despite their good progress, Grognak seemed to get worse during the night. He kept slipping in and out of consciousness and was muttering in his sleep as they rode. The only word that Balfor could make out that he kept saying was, “Cora.” The black veins that were spreading from his wound had almost covered his entire torso and arms by the time they reached the city limits. They stopped by the side of the road briefly to give the horses some much needed rest before making their way into the city. Balfor transformed himself back into his regular form, his feet aching terribly from the long journey that they had made. Qildor, after checking on Grognak one last time, came over addressing Balfor and Zook together. “I need your help! I need you to get me some items and ingredients for me in the city. I’d get them myself, but I’m concerned about the rate at which this poison is spreading through Grognak. I’m going to take him straight to my contact.” As he is saying this, Qildor retrieves an old torn bit of paper and scribbles down a list to give them in charcoal.
Food & Drinks In The Big City
The two of them look up in awe as they gaze at the spectacular city architecture as they cross the bridge toward the south west gate. Balfor recognises some of the building styles and stone work as Dwarven, which made sense to him having learnt that the city was in fact an ancient Dwarven city – one that had been taken over by the human kingdoms at the end of The Great Crusade over 800 years ago. Little remained of the old dwarven city - only a few details here and there that he could recognise that had the eerie whispers of his ancestor’s hands carved within it. Most of the city had been rebuilt in many different styles over the centuries and Balfor loved the vibrant atmosphere the place had as the two of them passed through the gates into the busy streets. Zook wanted to go wandering off and explore this new place, keen to see the sights and smells of this strange bustling city. He, however, felt compelled to help Balfor and his new found friends who had, after all, helped him escape from jail. The two of them spent the whole morning navigating around the city with the aid of Qildor’s map, purchasing the items from the list. They found a lovely little shop called ‘Finn’s’ who sold nothing but candles, with seemingly a thousand different types, all different colours and smells – they wished that they could stay in there longer, but they had to carry on (an inside joke from another campaign we've been playing).
Ode To Joy
The two of them made their way upstairs, the creaking floorboards sounding beneath each step as they walked up the cramped staircase. They entered the small room off of the corridor to find Grognak, lying in a bed asleep with a woman sat beside him. “You must be Qildor’s friends?” she asked, raising from her seat to great them. “Do you have the items he asked for?” Balfor handed over the small bag of items that they had bought to her. “Who are you may I ask?” “The names Joy, Joy Saffron,” she replied, taking the items and quickly turning back to sit beside Grognak. She took the items from the bag and began using them with some of the equipment she already had to produce some sort of potion that she gave to Grognak, dripping it carefully into his mouth. “How’s he doing?” Balfor asked, noticing that Grognak was almost completely covered in the black veins that traced up his neck. “Not good. He’s been poisoned by some sort of magical substance that I’ve not seen before. I think this will help, though I’ve sent Qildor to get me some other supplies. You got here just in time.” With that Joy makes some other substance from the candle and ink that they had brought, spreading it across his chest as she muttered some kind of spell under her breath. The two of them sit and watch for a while as Joy tends to Grognak, treating his wound with some kind of herbs and making him more comfortable. Half an hour or so must have passed before Qildor returned, bag in hand with more items, which he passed to Joy straight away. “Ah, good you’re back already. I trust you made it back ok, any issues? Nobody saw you?” “Erm... nope, not at all!” Balfor replied, elbowing Zook in the ribs before he could blurt out what had really happened downstairs. “Joy was just telling us about herself. How do you two know each other anyway?” “Qildor didn’t tell you? We’re both members of the Children Of Gaia.”Rewards Granted
5 gp, 16sp & 50cp (looted from soldiers) 2x String (binds from Zook) -50gp (Antitoxin) -5gp (Healers Kit) -2cp (Scented Candle) -1sp (Parchment) -10gp (Ink Bottle) -2cp (Ink Pen) -15gp (Fine Clothes) -3gp (Excuisite Necklace) -10gp (Leather Armour, Light) -2sp (Quarterstaff) -2gp (Dagger)
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Report Date
10 Oct 2021
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