Episode 4: The Boy with the Boots

Gokrenxia    Prose    Tales of the Inner Council      Episode 4: The Boy with the Boots

Previously, on Tales of the Inner Council

After King Ga'jam's final decree dissolved of the monarchy of the fledgling Kingdom of Vath'azen, two members of the newly established "Ruling Council" set out to prove the decree's validity. An encounter with the Chief Historian at the ancient Library in the capital city of Stoverj raised questions surrounding the particular paper on which the decree was written.
Now, Lord Chodvar Taibil, the lizard-like Mahnkii Master of Commerce, and Jenta Hua'zur, the panther-like Arjeev Mistress of Whispers, follow a lead to locate the raccoon-like Vyrian known as Senior Historian Saklay'n, who presented the King's final decree to the court before quickly resigning from his position.

Hajbruug District, Northeast Stoverj

"Where is this damnable house?" Chodvar groaned.
The roads on the outskirts of Stoverj's Hajbruug District were not well marked. Much of the original Elven construction this far from the city had been destroyed in the Great War decades ago. The greatest remnant of the Empire's architectural achievements were the wide stone roads from which the district took its name (Hajbruug being Elven for "Stone Bridge" in the common tongue). As a result, the homes in Hajbruug were significantly newer than those closer to the city center, but also smaller and clustered together, making navigation challenging. That lush wetlands constantly sought to reclaim everything only added to the challenge. A group of children, both Kynekin and Myndikin, played together off the beaten path, jumping from rock to rock in a game where it seemed whomever was tagged was a prisoner and the surrounding marsh water was "deadly." Missing a jump meant you were out of the game (not to mention wet).
A frustrated Chodvar slowed his mount as he once again reviewed the note from Chief Historian Uk'maad. Reportedly, Senior Historian Saklay'n's home was somewhere here in the outskirts.
Jenta marked the plume of black smoke climbing skyward off to the South and East; presumably where the other members of the council, Lords Davu Pa'lakh and Yahri Negdahe, would be. Whether it was coming from the Noiton District or closer to the harbor in the Spice Docks, she couldn't tell. She was certain Chodvar would know, but the way the pursed, scaly-yellow line of his lips curved down in irritation made her rethink asking.
"I'm starting to think it's not here at all," Chodvar grumbled.
She smirked, in that irritating, smug, cat-like manner. "That sounds suspiciously like what I suggested an hour ago."
He glared at her with his bulbous, gold-ringed eyes, but refused to rise to her constant baiting. "Very well," he began, sitting up a bit taller in his saddle. "I presume you have a more productive suggestion?" Even to his own ears, his words came out slightly more acerbic than he intended.
Jenta thought for a moment. "Lend me your coin purse?" She requested innocently.
Chodvar eyed her skeptically, but ultimately untied the small brown-leather pouch from his belt and tossed it to her. She caught it deftly, with a metal clink of coin on coin. From the corner of her eye, she noted one child's head pop up at the sound.
"I'll be right back," she said, dismounting. Taking a moment to look around, the Master of Commerce came to the sudden realization that the Mistress of Whispers' midnight blue dress and his rich green and gold tunic for that matter, were far too formal for traipsing around this part of the city. They stood out, and not in a good way. It likely wouldn't win them any friends.
He watched as Jenta casually walked to the side of the ancient stone path and sat indelicately on a moss-covered rock. The children stopped their game and watched intently as this strange noble panther-woman began to unbuckle and pull off her elegant, calf-high white boots. She ordered them neatly side-by-side. Glancing at Chodvar's coin purse, she shrugged and dropped it into one of the boots. Standing without a word, she lifted her skirts and strode confidently into the puddles of marsh water toward the children, splashing along until she found a particular rock jutting up, onto which she climbed.
With incredible grace and much to the children's bewilderment she leapt into the air, landing on another stone with ease. “I’ll capture you all," she proclaimed loudly, hunching over and raising her arms like some kind of monster. "None shall escape the touch of the Wetlands Witch!” The children cackled and screamed in excitement, skittering in a flurry of activity from rock to rock. Even Chodvar couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. The game was afoot!
For nearly an hour, Jenta and the children played with many close calls and dramatic misses. At one point a Shar’elum girl with a face like an owl used her brown-feathered arms to glide to a rock beyond Jenta’s reach. At another, a Myndikin boy - specifically an Elf - lost his footing and teetered precariously on one rock, until a chubby brown-furred Vyrian boy, who Chodvar thought resembled a bear, jumped to his aid, caught him, and saved him from “certain doom” in the "deadly" waters. In these brief moments, Chodvar saw hope for a future where all peoples, whether Kynekin or Myndikin, could move beyond the shadows of the past and live together in peace. This was a true vision of the future the young Lord held in his heart for the Kingdom of Vath’azen.
Movement at the periphery of his view drew Chodvar's eye away from the game. A grey, white, and black-furred cat-boy, an Arjeev, had one of Jenta's white boots in his hands, clearly looking down the shaft.
"You there! Boy! Stop!" He yelled.
Wide-eyed and caught red-handed, the boy snatched the pair of boots and sprinted away. Lord Taibil heeled his horse, and set to chase. Chodvar was not an accomplished rider, but had enough years of experience to easily navigate Hajbruug's stone streets at high speed. The boy must have realized this too, for he glanced back over his shoulder and saw the determined face of the rapidly closing Mahnkii Lord on horseback, cloak flared out behind him. The thief cut right, off the main road, down a narrow alley a horse would find challenging.

Show spoiler

What follows is an Ironsworn RPG solo session. My notes will generally be captured in the form of: Character Initials: action

six-sider/ten-sider/ten-sider-result(Strong, Weak, Miss)

Effect

Show spoiler

CT: Gather Information (Find the house)

Sleuth 1, 4/4/6/9-M

PtP, -1M

JH: Make a connection

Scoundrel 2, 8/7/9-W

Complication/cost, -1 Su

CT: Face Danger (+edge)

6/3/4-S

+1M

Back Alleys, Hajbruug District, Northeast Stoverj

With dramatic flare, the unrelenting Lord Taibil launched from his mount at full speed and skid to a stop at the opening to the alley, just as the young thief nimbly sprang in a Z-shape from crates on one side of the alley, to a small wooden balcony on the opposite wall, and back again to the opposite roof. Chodvar scanned the surrounding buildings, trying to assess the most likely way the boy would run. Footfalls raced across the rooftops. He rushed forward to the next junction and caught the boy's silhouette leaping from one building to the next. Chodvar sped down a parallel alley in pursuit.
The back alleys of Hajbruug were muddy and slick. Chodvar found his footing extremely precarious. Racing as fast as he could this way and that, he came to a stop in the midst of a circular junction of alleys that all looked basically the same. They stretched in every direction. Chodvar stood in the center, boots caked in mud, looking up at the various rooftops, and huffed in irritation.
Not good, he thought of his chances to catch this thief on his own turf. A slight breeze from behind carried the distinct scent of whiskey. Sturdy boots slurped in the mud behind him.
"My oh my. Are you lost deary?" Came a woman's voice, heavy with a Dwarven accent.
Chodvar turned to find three ruffians approaching; a sunburnt human man twirling two poor quality daggers, a short, thick Dwarven woman in a shabby hooded cowl, wielding a wooden club with concerning dark brownish discolorations running its length, and a woman in light leathers. The latter wore a cowl that covered some kind of horns, leading Chodvar to suspect she was a Kynekin of some form. Her leather-gloved fingers tightly gripped a rusty longsword. Chodvar brushed back his cloak, revealing his own sheathed longsword and tucked his thumbs into his belt with a confident smile.
"Good day friends," he began with a genial nod as he mentally recalled the placement of every item in the small mud court surrounding him. "It would seem you clearly have me outnumbered."
"Daggers" took a slow step closer fanning out slightly to his left. Chodvar took a matching step back, turning over various strategies to minimize their advantage.
"Before committing to...whatever it is you're considering..."
The twirling blades between Dagger's fingers accelerated slightly. He was smiling now, revealing a mouthful of stained brownish teeth standing in stark contrast to the holes where others should have been.
"And what's that, mi'lord?" the Dwarven club-woman, "Club" in Chodvar's mind, asked mockingly as she casually stepped forward.
Chodvar stepped back again. He sighed, feeling his face flush a bit with embarrassment.
"Someone already stole my coin purse today. I have no money." He took another step back, the narrow alley walls behind him barely visible on the edges of his sight.
"Not your day," shrugged Club.
"And..." Chodvar gave them a broad smile, holding up a bright green index finger.
Club hesitated, raising an eyebrow. "And?"
The young Lord slowly and purposefully drew his polished longsword. He took another step back into an alley and, with the tip of his blade, traced a wide half circle before him in the mud.
Taking a fighting stance, he continued. "And, I am classically trained in Imperial swordplay. Cross this line, and you will leave me no choice but to take your lives. I do not relish the thought of murdering those for whom I am accountable."
"Listen to that," started Daggers. "Little Lord ain't heard the King's done died."
Chodvar stood a little bit taller and spoke slowly, without malice or threat in his tone. "I'm aware, good sir. And I am Lord Chodvar Taibil, part of the new ruling council of Vath'azen in the wake of our King's passing."
"Wait," the female Kynekin with the longsword finally stopped and spoke. Her colleagues turned.
"Choddie?" She questioned, pressing back her hood to reveal deep rust-colored scales, a hooked dragon-like snout, fiery red eyes, and a matching pairs of horns to either side of her head.
Chodvar lowered his sword to the mud in utter shock. He'd know those eyes, that face, anywhere. "Yilayna?" He questioned.
The female Mahnkii's colleagues looked back and forth between the two, clearly confused about how to proceed.
"Put your weapons away," she said, shaking her head and sheathing her own sword. "This one doesn't lie. If he says he's got no money, he's broke."
Looking to Chodvar with a hint of disdain, she turned and started back from wherever she'd come.
"Yilayna wait," Chodvar called. "Where are you going?"
"I need a drink," she replied without looking back.
Chodvar wiped the mud from his blade and chased after the dragoness.

Show spoiler

CT: Secure an advantage (+wits)

5/6/6-Crit M-PtP

CT: Pay the Price

82 Stressed -1Sp

CT: Endure Stress

6/7/10-M -2M

CT: Compel (+heart)

5/3/3-Crit S

Broken Barrel Tavern, Hajbruug District, Northeast Stoverj

Hajbruug's Broken Barrel Tavern was filled with a hearty, good-natured crowd this afternoon. It wasn't much to look at, with its well-worn fixtures repaired at least a few times. A strong but smokey fire burned in the hearth of the great room while an exceptionally talented Mahnkii girl with turquoise scales and a dazzling gold and purple medallion played tavern tunes on an expensive looking lyre.
The panther-like Jenta knocked back the last of her mug of ale quickly, the old wooden chair creaking when she shifted. A wide smirk played across her black and white face as she leaned in to address the red-scaled dragoness known as Yilayna.
"So let me get this straight," she chuckled loudly over the din. Chodvar shook his head and sighed. "The two of you were..."
"...friends," Chodvar interjected, doing a good job to hide his mix of irritation and embarrassment. Yilayna raised an eyebrow with a wry smile and took a swig from her mug. "Close friends," he added more somberly, lowering his eyes and tracing the cracked line of his earthen-colored ceramic mug with his thumb.
"...until you left," he muttered.
"After what you did? Can you blame me?" Yilayna questioned indignantly, staring at the young Lord.
"You never gave me a chance to explain," Chodvar retorted. Both fell silent and looked away.
Jenta realized she'd ventured into territories she had little desire to explore. Motioning to the serving girl to bring another round of drinks, she changed the subject.
"So," she began to Yilayna. "Where does a girl find a decent pair of boots in Hajbruug?" She asked. Confused, Yilayna glanced under the table to find "Jenta Hua'zur, member of the now ruling council of Vath'azen," sitting barefoot at a table in the Broken Barrel Tavern.
"What in the world happened?" Yilayna asked, chuckling.
Jenta rolled her eyes, "A child stole them."
"Maybe twelve of thirteen winters," Chodvar added flatly without looking up. "Four foot seven. Arjeev. Gray and white with black markings on his fur."
Yilayna bobbed her red-scaled head in understanding as a half-smile played across her face. "Dez. You met Dez. He's a slippery one."
Jenta read pride in Yilayna's response. She was certain Yilayna didn't just know of Dez. "You work together," she stated matter-of-factly, taking a swig of the latest round of drinks. Chodvar looked up, as if to challenge her statement, but then read Yilayna's face and held his objection.
"I... We," Jenta corrected, motioning to Chodvar, "need to speak with him."
Yilayna sipped on her ale, watching Chodvar, a mix of emotions playing behind her eyes. "Why?" She challenged, adding with a hint of venom toward Chodvar. "So you can throw in one of your dungeons? I don't think so."
"That's not fair," he defended, sounding somewhat exasperated.
"No. Not at all." Jenta jumped in, shooting Chodvar a silencing look as she attempted to salvage the conversation. "We're looking for someone."
Yilanya's crimson eyes looked slowly from Chodvar to Jenta. "If your someone is in Hajbruug, Dez probably knows where to find them. Why should I help you?"
Jenta nodded. "Keep the coin purse he stole." Chodvar shot her an angry look of disbelief. "Consider it payment for the help."
Yilayna contemplated the offer for a few moments and finished her ale. Her chair creaked as she slid it backwards, stood, and addressed Jenta directly. "Wait here. I'll be back in a bit." With a final look at Chodvar, she dropped some coin on the table and was gone.
Chodvar sighed deeply as he watched her leave and opened his mouth to speak. Jenta's hand came up quickly in a "stop" motion as she took another drink from her mug.
"Really don't care," she jabbed.

* * * * *

At Jenta's insistence, the two moved to a corner table once it came open. They sat without saying much, soaking in the crowd and the music. Chodvar sulked while Jenta kept a watchful eye on the patrons. A short time later, Yilayna returned. From the entrance, the dragoness caught the pairs' eyes and motioned with her head to follow as she moved toward a backroom of the Broken Barrel. The two finished their ale and followed.
Chodvar took in the moderately-sized box of a room as they entered. The wooden tables seemed worn but in much better shape than those in the main area. A second door with a sturdy-looking, expensive lock stood shut along the left wall. An open-shuttered window stood on the opposite wall, revealing the long shadows of the late afternoon sun stretching through an alley. A soft breeze caressed his scales, laden with scent of the wetlands. Daggers and Club, Yilayna's two hooligan colleagues from the alley, sat off to the right. Several shelves of various-colored bottles lined the walls behind a simple but functional wooden bar. It wasn't until Yilayna stepped to the side and moved toward the left door he noticed the small figure sitting atop the bar. It was none other than the young Arjeevian thief known as Dez. A wide smile crossed his face as he drank deeply a glass of caramel-colored liquid.
"Well hello again," he started, raising his glass in a smug salute. Jenta slowly took a seat. Chodvar followed suit.
"Dez, I take it?" Jenta asked.
"Ahh, the Wetlands Witch knows my name," he smirked glancing at Jenta's bare feet. "I'm honored." Yilayna shot Dez a confused look, to which he shook his head dismissively. "'Layna says you're looking for someone."
Chodvar took the lead in the conversation, carefully studying the boy. "Indeed. We're looking for a Vyrian man who goes by the name of Saklay'n. He's not much taller than you..." Dez feigned being offended.
"...with a short snout, long white whiskers, and rounded white-tipped ears. Black and white face in a mask pattern, with a striking black streak down his forehead that fades to gray as it bisects the white ring of his black nose." Jenta was surprised at the young Lord's detailed recollection. "Until just a few days ago, he was a member of the court historians."
Dez nodded and set down his glass. "Word is that one got himself into some trouble. What's he done?"
Jenta jumped in. "He resigned under some very unusual circumstances. We just want to ask him some questions about what happened." Dez met Jenta's eyes and studied her intently, betraying a sharp and streetwise mind deftly attempting to glean more from her comments.
"The Library said he lived out here in Hajbruug," Chodvar added. "But we haven't had any luck locating his home."
Dez shook his head, refilling his glass from a burgundy-colored bottle to his right. "It wouldn't matter if you did. He's not there."
Chodvar leaned forward on his table. "Do you know where we can find him?"
"I do." Dez nodded slowly.
"What's it going to cost?" Jenta asked. Next to her, she sensed Chodvar's displeasure at the notion.
Dez smiled slyly in satisfaction, took an irritatingly long drink from his glass, and dragged his sleeve across his mouth. "I need work. Something steady. Something I can count on."
Chodvar sighed. "I'm sure we could get you a reliable runner job for the court."
Dez crinkled his nose and eyed Jenta with a hint of secret mischievousness. "Maybe something a little more... exciting."
Chodvar cocked his head slightly. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," Jenta replied, turning to the young noble. "He wants to work for me."
From her spot leaning against the wall next to the door, Yilayna furrowed her rust-colored brow questioningly toward the grinning Dez.
"The Shaf Yadursmaj," he whispered reverently, raising his glass to Jenta. "The elusive and secretive information network of Vath'azen."
"I'll see what I can find," Jenta said without hesitation.
"Very well then." Dez set his glass down on the bar. "Your Vyrian was grabbed from his home two nights ago by some particularly bad folks. They have a hideout in the forest a few miles Northeast from here. I can show you the way."
Chodvar took a deep breath and turned to Jenta. "If there's going to be a fight, we'll probably want Lord Pa'lakh with us."
"He's not exactly subtle," Jenta replied with a frown.
"Oh," Dez interrupted, clearing his throat. All eyes turned to him. "I'm guessing you haven't heard what happened in the Spice Docks today?"
Concern washed over Chodvar's face. "What happened?"
"Rumor is the Grand Marshall and Chief Diplomat murdered some noble kid," Dez stated plainly.
"What?!" Chodvar gasped, massaging his temples at the instant onset of a headache.
"Yeah," Dez nodded. "I mean if it were one of us street rats, no one would care, but," he shrugged. "nobles..."
"We need to focus Lord Taibil," Jenta began to Chodvar. "Our priority is Saklay'n." She stood and turned to Dez, a fierce determination in her eyes. "You're hired. Get us something more appropriate to wear in a fight."
Dez nodded vigorously, the cat-like boy leaping dexterously from the bar to the open window.
"And I want my boots back," she yelled as he dropped into the alley beyond.

To be continued...

Show spoiler

Location Name: Manmade object

civilized, occupied, broken.

The Broken Barrell Tavern

Yalina & Chodvar?

Oracle: Secure Rumor

Oracle: persuasive harm

CT: Gather information

Slueth 1

6/4/7/0-W +1M

Complication

CT: Mark progress

Determine the Decree's Validity: 4/10