Episode 5: The Stillwater Scrolls

Gokrenxia    Prose    The Longest Journey      Episode 5: The Stillwater Scrolls

Content Warning

Contains Adult Themes

Riverboat, South of the Stormbreak Mountains

Unlike the open ocean on which the Sin'glyyd Selash had traveled these many months, the northbound riverboat Cassian now found himself on was calm, steady, and unnervingly quiet. A chill filled the night air beneath a canvas of a thousand stars. The modestly attractive human male pulled his cloak around him a little tighter and stared upward nervously, imagining what the vyrian readers of stars - the llewenyrs - might say about his fate as his journey to deliver the mysterious chests of his employers drew to its conclusion.
The odds are not good, he admitted to himself. I missed the deadline to deliver the last chest.
After a heated argument, Captain Kryvat had agreed to attempt outrunning the storm, but the Selash took significant damage to its main mast and they still arrived too late. Cassian had considered not returning to his employers, but ultimately knew they had ample resources to track him down no matter where he tried to run.
I'm better off facing them on my own terms.
He adjusted the shoulder strap of his canvas backpack and squeezed it a little tighter. Contained within was the mysterious tome he'd acquired from Petchryyg of House Pervak in the strange forgotten land referred to as a "zabrischoll," a place for lost or forgotten things.
I hope it will be enough, he sighed, though hope was thin at this point.
The riverboat captain, undoubtedly under their employ, carefully picked his way between the rocks and into the shadowed and ominous maw of a cavern entrance. It was well hidden, tucked away from prying eyes, and would have been easy to miss if you didn't know it was there.
Cassian squeezed his nostrils closed as they entered. Past experience told him the smell inside the cave's entrance was abysmal. It was sharp and acidic, littered with droppings of dozens, if not hundreds of bats. While generally harmless, he was certain they served as additional deterrents for any would-be explorers.
The captain of the small vessel lit a hooded lantern and pushed it into Cassian's face with a grunt and a head nod toward the hook on the bow. Several sharp responses came to mind, but he refrained, presuming they'd be wasted.

by Koragath via Azgaar/GIMP

Disclaimer

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

Actual Play

Situation: Challenge Direction
CI: Face Danger (Shadow)

Deliver last chest

Scoundrel +2

6/6/7-M

CI: Pay the Price

Transform Time

With the lantern hung, it was a short trip winding upriver through the darkness before the narrow cave widened to reveal a dimly-lit underground port. Port Stillwater, it was called by those who knew of its existence, home base to the infamous Gembrimaar crime syndicate. Cassian stepped up from the still moving riverboat and onto the dock. Port Stillwater lacked the order, pomp, and circumstance of Tahlerun's Morum-Kalyrd. In fact, it felt much more familiar to the places he'd been raised. Still, he could feel at least a dozen eyes pretending to ignore him as he made his way through the sprawling underground complex.
Unnerving as it might seem to some, this was Cassian's status quo.
The Syndicate already knows I'm here. No sense in subtlety at this point.
He made his way to the Inkwell Tavern, pushing open the shoddy-hung door to find the common room largely devoid of life. Behind the bar, a questionable human male looked up with a "you've been expected" smirk that made Cassian uncomfortable. Wiping the inside of a clay mug with an oily rag, the barkeep filled it with ale, set it on the bar top, and lifted his chin in a "sit" gesture that might have been welcoming anywhere else.
Cassian sighed, moving to the bar and taking the designated seat. He swirled the ale beneath his nose before cautiously drinking a swig, keeping a watchful eye on the barkeep at all times while trying to rationalize his situation. If they wanted you dead, they wouldn't have let you this far, he told himself.

Talbeyo Dragga by dream by WOMBO

As he set down the mug, a silent shadow shifted at the periphery of his vision. He turned with a start to find himself staring into the gaunt form of a pale elven man. He eyes were red, lined with dark circles as though he'd not slept in an age. His angular cheeks, sunken and drawn, emphasized his thin lips pressed together in disapproval.
"Master Inglewood," the offwhite-robed elf began in typical condescending form. "How nice to see you again," he stated, though his tone said otherwise.
"Talbeyo," Cassian nodded, trying to hide his disdain. Talbeyo Dragga, Herald of the Gembrimaar, oversaw much of the syndicate's operations and was just as crazy as the rest of them. If the rumors were true, he’d been cast out of some elven sect for practicing forbidden magics. While he wasn’t in charge, Cassian knew better than to get on his bad side.
"The job's done. All the chests were delivered."
The elf gathered his long, light brown hair together, sweeping it back from his muted green and gold collar, allowing it to settle down his back. He studied the human for any signs of deceit.
“And the tome?” questioned Talbeyo, anxiously running his fingers up and down along the sleeves of his robe..
“And my payment?” retorted Cassian, a bit more sharp than he would have liked.
Talbeyo smirked in a "that's so cute" sort of response, as though Cassian were a child.
Prick, thought Cassian.
Withdrawing a scroll from somewhere in the sleeves of his baggy robe, Talbeyo placed it on the bar, studying Cassian intently.
"As promised - the deed to your family's lands. The ones your father gambled away. Though I daresay they're in quite the state of disrepair, as I understand it."
"And my sister?" Cassian questioned, trying to push down his anxiety. He was so close to finally being able to rescue his older sister, Jannelle, from the miserable life their father had sold her into.
The sickly elf feigned forgetfulness, withdrawing a folded parchment. "Oh yes of course. Here we are."
Cassian reached for the parchment, but Talbeyo snatched it back quickly. "Now now. Where's my tome?"
He dropped the backpack on the bar top. With a distrustful look and a raised eyebrow from the elf, Cassian opened the sack, withdrawing the tome he'd acquired from the strange dwarf Petchryyg of House Pervak.
Talbeyo stood mouth agape, eyes widened, and licking his lips in anticipation. It was mildly satisfying to see him speechless, if only for a moment.
When he finally spoke, there was a sinister edge to his tone. "There's one more matter to discuss before our business is concluded."
Of course there is. Cassian subtley scanned the room, seeking possible exits should things go horribly awry. He made no effort to hide his skepticism. "And that is?"
"The final chest."
Cassian opened his mouth to respond, but Talbeyo cut him off with a raised hand. "Don't bother. I've no doubt you'll attempt to spin a tale. My sources tell me you failed to deliver it by the deadline."
Shit, panicked Cassian internally. Should have known they'd have people watching. "Where does that leave us?"
"Well, you threw quite the problem into our plans. No matter though," he waved dismissively. "You've but delayed the inevitable."
"Yes, yes," Cassian responded, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "You're so wise and well-connected. Blah blah blah. If we're done stroking your ego, get to the point."
Talbeyo cocked his head with an arrogant smile, clearly pleased he'd gotten under Cassian's skin. "My my my. If you insist. I figure since you only partially completed the job, it's only fair you get partial payment."
"Meaning?"
"The lands..." Talbeyo paused dramatically, crossing his arms. "Or your whore?"
"You bastard," accused Cassian, slamming his hand on the bar.
"Which do you want more?" The elf questioned smugly. "Your title? Or your sister?"
Cassian stared at the two pieces of parchment. One would give him back his family's lands, their title, and the power to live out the comfortable life he deserved. The other would free his sister from a life of slavery, subjected to the whims of whatever cruel master held her reins. She would be traded like cattle to the highest bidder.
"I..."
"Oh come now," Talbeyo jnterjected, sliding the land deed toward Cassian. "We both know which one you'll choose. Let's not pretend you're something other than what you are."
Cassian closed his eyes tightly. Jannie, he thought, Please forgive me - As though sending a message to his sister. I'll find another way. He grabbed the deed, reviewed it to ensure it was, in fact, the promised title to his familial lands, and shoved it into his tunic.
"There," Talbeyo gloated. "That wasn't so hard, was it? And we have more than enough work for when you're ready to buy out your sister's contract."
With nought but a glare, Cassian stood and stormed from the common room, gladly leaving the Inkwell Tavern and Talbeyo Dragga behind.

Actual Play

Inkwell Aspects (Deck of Worlds):

Hardscrabble

Dormant

Bartender Human?

80/20: 67 Y

Gender H/L: 10 Male

Talbeyo:

Hardhearted

Loyal

Connected

CI: Face Danger (wits)

Scoundrel +2

7/1/3-S+4M

CI: Compel (iron)

7/5/9-W

CI: Compel (iron)

2/4/10-M

Burn momentum

9/4/10-W

It wasn't until he was on the riverboat heading South that Cassian's adrenaline finally settled. Reaching into his inner pocket, he withdrew the coveted page and arrogantly replayed the tavern scene in his mind.
You bastard, he'd yelled. When he slammed his hand on the bar, he'd created enough of a distraction to swap his sister's contract, this page, with a false document. He'd correctly assumed the Gembrimaar wouldn't let him out of their service so easily.
Unfolding the contract, he began to read:

Cassian,
Once again you overestimate your level of competence and underestimate my understanding of who you truly are. You forget that I have outlived you in this world three times over.
When you are ready to save your sister from a life where her body is little more than a plaything for men of power, come back to us. There's more than enough work waiting.
You know how to reach us.
Until then, enjoy your lands and title, mi'lord.

— Talbeyo

Cassian crushed the letter in his palm, tears welling in his eyes.
Jannie, he thought. This isn't over. I will find a way.

The End

Actual Play

CI: Face Danger (+shadow)

Scoundrel +2

5/8/10-M

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