The story's first chapters can be found in this thread:
http://boards1.wizards.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=265892
Please feel free to ask questions or send comments! :D
:-) Jesper
And now, the continuation:
Chapter 6:
An unlikely meeting
Tserdain 24th, Klarmont, the Year 1000 after Crowning
Sitting at a table in the Broken Mug in Rymskigrad, nobody felt much like talking. They had lost all traces of the wizards who had executed Balagarn and taken Palando’s staff and Palando himself had not shown his ghastly face in over a week. Still, Ikaros remained certain that this was not the end of their quest and feared the punishment his former master might have for them.
Wulfgar and Whitemane were busy sharing a jug of Boldavian spirits and Thaminor sat moodily and poked at his greasy supper with a fork. How he longed for the fresh berries and fruits and elven wine of Alfheim!
Only Petja seemed in a relatively good mood. He had convinced some of the locals to join him in a game of dice and had even managed to win a small sum of money from them. He was always fascinated with new currency and sat at the end of the table admiring his new collection of coins.
The Broken Mug was a typical, run-down Boldavian establishment; a hard-stamped dirt floor with a little hay strewn out, long pinewood tables and benches spotted by stains of food and wine and the sputtering of sheep-tallow candles and a heavy odour of sweat, pipe smoke and sour ale hanging in the air. An old greyish rug hung from the ceiling by the door to keep out the draft and a fire burned in an open heart in the centre of the room.
Most of the customers were craftsmen who popped in for a drink and a pipe after the day’s chores were over. A few traders were staying the night as well as some rural folk who dared not travel at night and would be returning to their hamlets on the morrow.
Against this scenery, it is quite understandable why a woman such as her caused everyone to take notice as she entered. She was fairly tall, about five feet seven inches, and her long raven black hair flowed down past her shoulders in long, sensuous waves. Her eyes were deep and brown and sparkling with life and curiosity. She was scantily clad in a dress of cotton and leopard’s fur, which revealed much of her smooth, coconut-brown skin and on her back she carried a pack and a scimitar slung in a scabbard. From her sandaled feet, up her long legs to her petite waist and full bosom, she was the embodiment of men’s fantasies everywhere. On her shoulder sat a large, crimson parrot and when she whispered little words to it, her supple lips revealed a set of pearly white teeth.
As she moved from the door towards the bar, a faint trace of spring flowers could be smelled in the air around her. Several of bar’s male patrons immediately moved to intercept her but quickly changed their minds when they saw her necklace of shark teeth and the deadly steel trident she carried in her right hand. Clearly, this Amazon goddess could take care of herself.
At our friends’ table, Ikaros, Petja and Wulfgar were stunned at her beauty. Whitemane did not appreciate such a thing as ‘good looks’ and Thaminor rose to invite her to join them. To begin with she was reluctant but the charming half-elf managed to convince her to take her meal at their table.
Regaining his composure Petja said: ‘so, you’re rather an unusual sight in these parts. What’s your story?’ ‘My name is Eveil and I am just a wandering spirit roaming the world’ she said while she ate. ‘Eveil, huh?’ Wulfgar said. ‘I am Wulfgar from the Northern realm of Ostland. Where are you from?’ ‘I come from the island kingdom of Ierendi many weeks journey to the south’ Eveil replied. ‘I have been wandering these lands in search of adventure since spring’.
‘Well, if it is adventure you’re looking for, we’ve got…Ouch!’ Petja said as Ikaros thrust an elbow into his ribs. ‘What my young friend here was trying to ask’ said Ikaros diplomatically ‘is, are you here alone or do you perchance have companions in the area? Other suntanned countrymen?’ His tone of voice struck Eveil as peculiar and she knew he was getting at something but as she had nothing to hide she simply replied ‘no, I am here alone. My last companions didn’t want to come to Glantri. Said it wasn’t safe in a country that burns priests at the stake’.
Wulfgar and Whitemane exchanged glances. They had also heard these rumours but never in his wildest dreams did Wulfgar imagine an entire country of heathens living without the guidance of fathering immortals like Odin, Thor, Frey and Freya. Some day he would have to bring an army over here to teach these foul sorcerers a thing or two about proper reverence.
‘Well’ said Ikaros ‘I am asking because we are looking for a group of men, suntanned and scantily clad, who could easily be your countrymen’. ‘Really?’ Eveil replied ‘well what does these men look like?’
‘Well they wore…’ Ikaros began. ‘They were wizards in white tunic uniforms with bronze girdles, headbands and bracers studded with red gemstones’ Petja interrupted. He was determined not to let the wizard lead the entire conversation.
‘You don’t say?’ Eveil replied and leaned back in thought for a moment. ‘Yes’ Petja continued ‘and there were eight of them, and the leader had white hair and was called Zajimarn by the others’. Ikaros sent him an angry glare that quieted him up.
‘Well’ Eveil began ‘in Ierendi there is an order of wizards known as the Mages of Honor Island. They are extremely protective of their privacy and people who intrude upon their isle are usually never heard from again. They wear the type of uniforms you describe but if they are really the men you are looking for you will have a hard time getting to speak with them’.
‘Hmm’ Ikaros said, rubbing his chin and nose, ‘is there no way of contacting them outside their island?’ ‘Well, as far as I know they have a representative at court in Ierendi City but I’m not too sure about that’ Eveil replied.
‘Well, it’s the best lead we’ve got so far. We had better follow it’ Ikaros said.
Next time: The docks of Mirror Bay
The docks of Mirror Bay
Soladain 28th, Klarmont, the Year 1000 after Crowning
‘I just don’t see why that blasted ghost couldn’t teleport us all the way to Ierendi!’ Whitemane said and disgustedly turned his face away from a cart of fresh fish. ‘You know how much I hate the ocean!’
They were walking along the docks of Mirror Bay trying to find a suitable ship for an overseas passage to Ierendi City. Everywhere people were shouting and pushing and more than once Whitemane had come close to pushing somebody into the harbour. Along the pier, Minrothad schooners were unloading cargoes of spices, silks and dye, next to Soderfjord longships carrying weapons and armour and little round sailing ships of the Shires bringing grain and livestock. The air was thick with exotic fragrances of faraway lands mingled with the smoky smell of taverns and the salty breeze from the sea.
‘I’m sorry Whitemane but there really isn’t anything I can do about it’ Ikaros replied. ‘Palando brought us here and I am not going to inquire why his powers didn’t reach across the sea. Frankly, I am relieved if it means getting out of his reach for a while’.
By the end of the day they had found what they were looking for: the fair ship Goodhope under captain Yakov Zandravov would set sail for the southern islands the following morning with four other passengers and their retinue. Ikaros paid for their passage, six persons in all since the beautiful Eveil had agreed to join their party for a while and be their guide in her native land.
They returned to The Blind Sword Master, which had quickly become their favourite spot in the city during their last visit. It was a nice inn with big servings of food and soft, warm beds. Right next to it was the fighting hall of signor Giovanni de Viochenza, a retired adventurer turned fencing master. The inn was actually named after him by his gnome friend Fasil who owned the place. Signor Giovanni had lost his sight in a duel on the Savage Coast many years ago and now his speciality was training other warriors in the delicate art of blindfighting. Most people agreed there was not a soul better able in the entire realm.
Palando’s ghost had received the news of his staff’s disappearance with cold silence and the next night had ordered them through another portal, which took them to the woods outside Specularum. He had ordered Ikaros to pursue the Honor Island lead across the sea and then vanished. But Ikaros had a distinct feeling that not even across the sea would he be safe from the haunting of his former master.
That night two men met at a filthy tavern in the Nest quarter of town. One of them looked like a grizzled pirate, his face leathered by salty winds and many of his teeth lost to scurvy. The other wore a dark brown tunic over a heavy set of chainmail. His head was shaven bald and his long, dark moustache was the shape of a horseshoe and reached the edges of his chin. In the noisy tavern no one could eavesdrop on their conversation but at the end of it the bald man reached into a pocket in his tunic and drew forth an envelope, which he handed to the pirate who received it with a nod and a vicious smile.
The next morning the party rose at dawn for a quick breakfast at the inn and then walked down to the pier and embarked on the Goodhope. Captain Yakov stood on the raised castle in the aft in his black and blue captain’s uniform and high leather boots. He wore a triangular black hat with a large coloured feather and a cutlass by his side. The crewmen wore white trousers cut off just below the knees and blue shirts. Most of them wore earrings or sashes around their head or waist and looked like experienced mariners.
Two of the other passengers were already aboard; a young Glantrian man who spoke with a heavy New Averoigne accent and presented himself as Thomas de Marquin – minstrel and poet – and Madame Sorelli, a young Thyatian noblewoman from Kelvin on her way to visit her sisters living in Ierendi City. A pair of masculine bodyguards escorted her wherever she went.
Wulfgar was excited to have a ship’s deck below his feet again for the first time in just over four years and he stood at the railing, grasping the rigging with his eyes closed and enjoying the sun shining on his face. Suddenly, the loud sound of somebody farting right next to him and the distinct smell of rotting eggs brought his attention at once back to his surroundings. ‘Excu-se mia! Ai ha-va di gas!’ a fat man standing on the boarding plank exclaimed apologetically in a heavy Darokinian accent. He was dressed in silken trousers, shirt, vest and jacket and wore a wide brimmed hat and lots of heavy golden rings set with precious stones on all of his fingers. His trousers ended in long hoses and black gold-buckled shoes. He was sweating profoundly from the walk up the plank and was wiping his brow with a monogrammed handkerchief while he held a silver-topped walking cane in the other. ‘Mama mia, it iss such a hot day!’ he continued as one of his servants standing behind him held forward a ridicules-looking white little poodle. He turned to kiss it goodbye with the words ‘Arrivederci my little treasure’ and then stepped onto the ship’s deck. ‘Buon giorno every-bady!’ he said. ‘Ai am Signor Luigi de Renaldo’. Just then, he farted loudly again and several sailors behind him turned away with a sick look on their faces. ‘Mi scusi, it is di gas. Mai sto-mach is no goo-de, eh?’
Signor Luigi took to the centre of the deck as if it was a stage and started to get acquainted with everyone just as the final passenger arrived up the boarding plank. He was a quiet-looking fellow in his thirties who wore an unassuming long brown coat, trousers and boots. His beard almost hid a nervous smile as he glanced around at the other passengers and tried not to get in the way of the sailors who on captain Yakov’s orders were untying the shorelines and preparing to set sail.
Within two hours, they had made their way clear of the mouth of the Volaga River and a strong wind carried them southwards across the Sea of Dread towards Safari Island.
Next time: Scourge of the seas
Scourge of the seas
Moldain 4th, Felmont, the Year 1000 after Crowning
They had been sailing for three days and were now clear of the Sulescu Peninsula on their way across the Sea of Dread to Ierendi. The voyage was tedious and only Wulfgar seemed to enjoy it. The young minstrel Thomas was determined to impress Eveil who seemed to enjoy having his attention but never more than that. Thaminor was his usual quiet self and kept alone except at dinnertime. Signore Luigi continued to talk to anyone who would stand still long enough to listen but as his stomach problems continued and there was practically nowhere to run on the small ship, most people found it best to keep him downwind during conversation. It turned out he was a successful businessman on his way to one of his summer residences in Ierendi City.
Madame Sorelli spent her time in her cabin or conversing with captain Yakov and her bodyguards prevented Petja from taking a closer look at her collection of jewels. Instead, he turned his attention to the last passenger, the anonymous merchant Belmer.
‘Good afternoon my good man!’ Petja said cheerfully when he found him on deck near the stern. ‘Eh? Oh! Ah… good afternoon’ Belmer replied carefully. ‘And how are you feeling today?’ Petja continued. ‘Oh, fine fine thank you very much. And yourself?’ Belmer replied. ‘Absolutely toppings! Couldn’t be better!’ Petja said in an overly cheerful tone. ‘You know, I never did ask you what you do for a living?’ he continued. ‘What?’ Belmer answered distractedly. ‘What_you_do?’ Petja repeated, putting an emphasis on each word. ‘Well… I… I am a merchant, yes… clay pottery and things like that…’ he replied. ‘I see’ Petja said, pausing to think for a moment. ‘Funny, because I would have sworn you look much more like you were in the PAPER business’. ‘WHAT?’ Belmer almost bolted from his seat at the stern, a frightened look on his face. ‘Well, you know’, Petja continued with a smile, ‘parchments and scrolls and documents. That sort of thing’. Belmer was looking very nervous now but Petja just patted him on the shoulder - ‘my mistake’ - and walked back aft, a broad grin on his face…
It was no more than an hour later that afternoon that the sailor in the crow’s nest announced the sighting of a large, black sail on the northern horizon. It was sailing directly south as if to cut them off on their way to Safari Island. Captain Yakov stood in the aft castle with a set of primitive binoculars and the party and Thomas gathered on the deck.
‘Looks like a pirate ship, cursed slavers operating out of the Gulf of Halag’ he said finally and ordered all sails set for maximum speed. ‘We’ll see if we cannot outrun her’.
But as the sands of the hourglass on the bridge slowly poured down it became clear that the black ship was steadily gaining on them. Within an hour, maybe two, it would be within range to fire its forward catapults.
‘You there, unless you can fight go below!’ Yakov bellowed at Signor Luigi, Belmer and Thomas, who quickly did as they were told. ‘And what about you?’ he asked the party. ‘Oh we can fight all right’ Whitemane replied. ‘Ain’t no stinking slaver who is going to put chains on THIS dwarf, no sir!’ ‘By Thor, we will be ready for them!’ Wulfgar agreed.
Neither Ikaros nor Petja shared their enthusiasm for the coming battle. Petja knew the stories of the Iron Ring; its captives were taken to faraway lands as slaves never to be seen or heard from again. Thaminor had strung his bow and laid out two quivers of arrows on the bridge. He was now trying to measure the wind speed.
As it gradually came closer, they could see the large pirate ship was a war galley driven by both wind and oars. It was quickly gaining on them and on top of the stern castle they could see sailors busy loading catapults and ballistae. The first large boulders missed by some ten yards to either side but they quickly zeroed in on the deck and the bridge. Captain Yakov’s sailors fought valiantly to put out the fires in the rigging when a large stone smashed the Goodhope’s rudder. Moments later, another large boulder splintered on of her masts and sent sails and rigging falling to the deck.
Feeling the violent shaking of the ship, below deck, Eveil was busy preparing her own last defences when a knock came on her door. As she opened it she saw a pale and determined Belmer outside. ‘I need to speak with you’ he said. Eveil nodded and they stepped into the corridor as the ship shook violently again from yet another catapult hit.
‘You are a citizen of Ierendi and I need your assistance in a matter of outmost importance to both our nations’ Belmer continued as he drew forth a sealed scrollcase from his coat. ‘This case contains a proposal for a new treaty between the Kingdom of Ierendi and the Grand Duchy of Karameikos; a joint naval operation that will once and for all put an end to the slavery and piracy of the Gulf of Halag. It is signed by both his Grace the duke and Lord Gunther Schonberg, the Ierendian ambassador. I need you to bring it to the Tribune Talados Thundersword that he may present the matter before your king’.
Everything was in chaos when Eveil emerged on deck a few moments later. Half of Yakov’s crew were desperately trying to put out the fires and set sail again while the other half had taken to firing their crossbows from the bridge at the approaching vessel. Right on her heels came Signor Luigi, Thomas, Belmer and Madame Sorelli and her two bodyguards.
Petja, looking somewhat confused at the other passengers, asked Eveil: ‘what are THEY doing up here? This is dangerous!’ ‘I know’, Eveil replied, ‘help me get this lifeboat in the water!’
Belmer ran to the bridge and talked for a moment with captain Yakov, who then ordered five of his men to help Eveil and Petja. The Goodhope had lost all speed now and was just sitting in the water waiting for the pirates to board her. But the steady fire of crossbow bolts from Yakov’s crew made them wait a little longer and that bought the party some time.
When the lifeboat hit the water, the first to enter were Thomas, Signor Luigi and Ikaros, Thaminor, Wulfgar and Whitemane. ‘We have to get these diplomatic dispatches to Ierendi City’ Eveil cried to Petja. ‘What about him?’ Petja shouted and pointed to Belmer, who was standing with captain Yakov on the bridge. ‘He stays!’ Eveil shouted. ‘He figures if the pirates capture him alive, he can convince them that the message is oral and they will think they managed to intercept it!’ ‘Damn!’ Petja muttered to himself as he climbed into the lifeboat. ‘I knew he was a fool when I saw the ring of the heralds on his finger but I didn’t know he was such a heroic fool’.
Then followed Madame Sorelli and Eveil with her parrot on her shoulder.
Left standing on the deck were the two bodyguards – and only one seat remained in the lifeboat.
‘Come on, let’s go!’ Whitemane shouted to them. ‘Get down here! Hurry up!’ ‘NO!’ Wulfgar shouted. ‘We can only take one. Otherwise the boat will be too heavy and it will sink!’ 'You have got to be kidding me! We can't just leave one!' Petja shouted. 'We have to' Wulfgar said grimly. '****!' Petja shouted as he punched his fist into the side of the lifeboat.
There was a moment when time stood still and the two men looked each other in the eyes. Then, without saying a word, one of them took a step back and drew his sword while the other climbed over the railing into the lifeboat, which immediately pushed off.
Eveil sat in the bow and as she quietly began chanting misty vapour rose from the sea and surrounded them in a thick blanket of fog. As they rowed away into the mists, the last thing they saw was captain Yakov, standing at the helm of the Goodhope, donning his helmet and shield.
‘All right’, he said grimly, ‘let’s show these devils how proper Traladaran sailors fight!’
Next episode: Stranded
Stranded
Not a wind was blowing on the calm blue surface of the Sea of Dread. The sun was shining mercilessly from a clear sky and there was no sight neither of beaches nor birds or trails of smoke from faraway volcanoes. This sea, which had claimed the lives of so many mariners over the centuries, was now like a quiet blanket of death.
The sound of a long, loud fart broke the silence in the tightly packed lifeboat, followed by a quiet ‘mi scusi’.
‘Aw, man!! How can he keep that up?’ Whitemane said. Ikaros schussed him. ‘He hasn’t eaten in three days!! None of us have!!’ the dwarf shouted angrily.
‘Ai am terri-bly sorri, signor Whitemane’, Luigi began, ‘it iss…’ ‘di gas – we know!’ Petja sighed and nodded as he put a hand on the agitated dwarf’s shoulder.
They had survived largely due to Eveil’s ability to magically produce fresh drinking water but after three days of drifting around in the sea, the sun was beginning to give them headaches and see things. At one point, Wulfgar was so hungry he thought Thomas was a delicious turkey and he nearly tipped the boat over wanting to cut him up. After that the young minstrel stayed as far up the other end of the lifeboat as he could – away from the Ostland barbarian.
Those of them who knew anything about navigation, that is to say Eveil and Wulfgar, were beginning to worry a little. According to their best estimates the current should take them between the southern tip of Safari Island and the northern coast of Utter Island. But if they figured wrong, the current could take them past the islands without them even knowing it or maybe even south and into the great expanse of the ocean beyond. Not even all the fresh water in the world could make them survive that kind of a voyage.
Madame Sorelli’s remaining bodyguard had faithfully put his cloak up as a sunscreen for her to sit and rest under. Thomas tried a few times to lift everyone’s spirits with a song or a poem but most of the time their thoughts drifted back to the valiant people left behind on the Goodhope. Through the fog they had heard the pirates board the ship and slowly the clamour of battle had died away in the distance. They all shuddered at the thought of being taken to the holds of the Iron Ring and sold off into slavery.
Especially Wulfgar remembered the feeling of the whip of his former masters. It was more than two years since he had earned his freedom but he still remembered with bitterness and hatred the jailors at Habbu Aibib prison and the painful scars across his back. Spending time in that hellhole had given him a new perspective on the life of the thralls in his own village. In Ostland, the existence of the thralls were a fact of life, and one that he had never questioned, but his own experiences in captivity had changed his perspective. He had wowed, Odin help him, never to live in shackles again.
Most of them had dosed off in the afternoon sun when suddenly the exited squall of Eveil’s parrot got their attention. Looking up, they saw a dark line on the southern horizon. Quickly, they manned the oars and within an hour they could distinctly see white beaches, lush tropical forests and a mountainous volcano rising in the air.
After yet another hour's worth of hard rowing they exhaustedly waded ashore on a beautiful sandy beach. A hundred feet further inland the sand gave way to dense plant growth and exotic trees. Everywhere there was the sound of waves breaking and tropical birdcalls.
They set up a camp on the beach and turned the lifeboat over on one side leaning against a few large sticks from the jungle to provide shade. They still had plenty of water, so Wulfgar, Thaminor and Eveil went looking for food while Petja got a fire going and Whitemane remained with the bodyguard to watch over the severely fatigued Thomas, Madame Sorelli and Signor Luigi.
As they came closer to the trees, Eveil whispered a few words into the ear of her parrot which then flew off in the direction of the volcano.
Slowly, they went into the damp darkness of the jungle.
Next chapter: The hunt
The hunt
Soladain 7th, Felmont, the Year 1000 after Crowning
After an hour in the dense forest Thaminor, Wulfgar and Eveil returned with various fruits and berries but no meat. The jungle pigs lived deeper inland Eveil explained. Instead, she picked up her trident and proceeded to walk carefully along the beach. Thaminor and Wulfgar sent each other a curious look and followed her.
About a thousand feet from their camp on the beach Eveil stopped for a moment and just looked intensely at the sand. Then, without warning, the ground seemed to burst open right in front of her and a mass of claws and orange-pink shell lunged out at her.
Wulfgar and Thaminor came charging to her aid and together they quickly killed the giant crab, which had attacked her. As they cracked the shell open to get to the delicious meat inside, Eveil explained that hunting the dangerous giant crabs was a rite of passage into manhood for many native boys in Ierendi.
They cooked the meat over the campfire and satisfied their enormous hunger for the first time in three days. Later, Eveil’s parrot came back and sat on her shoulder. She seemed to be able to communicate with it somehow.
‘Alright listen up’, she said, ‘I’m still not quite sure which island we’re on, but there is a coastal town to the southwest. It should take us a few hours to get there by foot but we have to be careful. Those pirates could be searching the area for us, if they know we survived, and there are plenty of dangerous animals in the jungle. We’ll stick to the coast and make our way around the peninsula using the moonlight’.
They rested until sunset, while they took turns scouting out across the sea for any black sails. Then they ate some more and hid the lifeboat in the edge of the jungle before making their way west along the coast.
Four hours later they approached a small coastal village with a crude wooden palisade around it. It took a while to convince the guards to let them in and they quickly made their way to the only inn in town – the Singing Mermaid.
Chapter 11:
Pearls for the merchant prince
The party learned that they had made their way to the village of Mauiputaaka on the west coast of Utter Island. They stayed at the Singing Mermaid for two days to rest and recover their strength.
The Singing Mermaid was named after the mermaid diva Laspeera, who entertained with her song in the evenings. During the daytime she lived in a waterfilled cave beneath the inn, which connected to the sea via a tunnel. In the evening, the stunningly beautiful sea creature came up into the inn via a pool in the middle of the centre room and sat on a rock in the water and sang her songs. The others were surprised to see that even Whitemane shed a tear during her act but the stubborn old dwarf insisted that he had simply had too much spice on his poi – the traditional pounded paste of the taro root of every Ierendi supper.
The next day Eveil and Wulfgar went looking for a ship in the harbour to take them to Ierendi’s main island. Unfortunately, the only ship going in that direction within the next week was the Moon – a small Minrothad sailing ship owned by the elven merchant prince Ravos Calanthar. To get passage onboard his ship to Ierendi, he wanted them to follow an old treasure map, he had come by, showing the location of the treasure of the wizard-pirate Dardreth somewhere in the jungles of Utter Island.
The party were free to keep anything they found except the legendary pearls of Dardreth – Ravos wanted those as payment for passage to Ierendi City. The party briefly considered the alternatives before they agreed. They told Thomas, Madame Sorelli, Signor Luigi and the bodyguard to wait for them at the Singing Mermaid, bought rations, packs, rope, torches and other necessities and headed into the jungle.
Chapter 12:
Pygmies in the dark
It was less than a day’s trekking into the jungle before the party found the lake, which marked the entrance to Dardreth’s lair. Supposedly, the wizard-pirate and his crew were hanged decades ago but who knew what dangers would be lurking inside?
To get to the entrance they had to lower themselves down a steep cliff side using their only rope. They found a narrow passage and had to proceed single-file into the darkness. Petja was the first to reach a cavernous chamber filled with strands of web. Suddenly, a large arachnid figure dangled down in front of him from the shadowy ceiling and he struck it with a short sword he was carrying.
The spider figure was a trap and when Petja struck it a cloud of choking dust was released into the air. Most of the party managed to cover their mouths and noses but Ikaros was unfortunate enough to breathe a lot of it in and had to return to the cave entrance above the lake before he choked completely. While he rested the others continued to explore the dungeon. It was filled with primitive traps such as crisscrossing strings with barbed hooks on and crudely dug pit traps. Not exactly what you would expect from a wizard’s lair. In the end, the party discovered that a tribe of jermlaine, who had claimed the dungeon as their home, was the cause of all their torment. The evil little critters tried to put up a fight against the ‘invaders’ but the party went about exterminating them with ruthless efficiency.
Further into the dungeon the party faced some magical traps and riddles before they finally stood in the treasure chamber of Dardreth himself. They found the pearls and some other minor treasure but when they started to gather it all up the pile of coins animated and took the shape of a dragon’s head and neck. It breathed a cone of coins and wounded Wulfgar badly before the party managed to kill it with spells and weapon blows.
After two days in the jungle they returned to the Singing Mermaid and on the next day they set sail aboard the Moon to Ierendi.
Next time: Experiencing the city
Experiencing the city
Gromdain 16th, Felmont, the Year 1000 after Crowning
‘So let me get this straight’, Wulfgar said, ‘any man who wins this tournament of yours will be king?’ ‘Yes’ Eveil replied. ‘And if it is a woman she will be crowned queen. But only for one year - until the next tournament’. ‘Interesting system’, Ikaros said. As usual, he was taking notes in his journal. Mostly on things magical in nature but also on his journeys in general. ‘But what happens if a king or queen won’t step down when the year is over?’
‘Well’, Eveil replied, ‘it may have happened once or twice but I cannot recall when. You see, although the king governs and commands the army and the navy, the tribunes are the ones with the real power. They descend from long lines of noble families – pirates the lot of them – and they control the economy and most of the politics behind the scenes. The annual tournament is a legacy from the reign of the Pirate Kings centuries ago; the strongest captain would be king but only as long as the others allowed him to’.
‘So a strong fighter could just kill the other contestants and remain king for years?’ Wulfgar said with an interested look on his face. ‘Well, he would have to be much more than just strong’ Eveil replied. ‘The tournament includes a test of arms but there is also an extensive test of the contestants’ knowledge of history, economy and world politics. A panel of judges oversees these trials or tests. Some of them just have to be overcome and in others, such as the test of arms, you have to be the final victor measured in points’. ‘Points?’ Wulfgar asked confused. ‘Yes, yes, they don’t have to kill each other. The marshals of the tournament grounds award points during the joust and foot list and the winner is declared king. The current one, King Palfrit, has won four years in a row now’.
‘I see’, Wulfgar mumbled. At first, the idea of fighting a tournament and winning a crown seemed appealing to him but as he learned of the other tests, his enthusiasm cooled off. He was painfully aware that he was not the best of educated minds. Ikaros would talk of planar matters and arcane lore that made his head spin and Petja seemed to know a lot of stuff about trade and goods and money. And Thaminor and Whitemane had the natural knowledge of the proud long history of their races and culture. He was born and raised in a small fishing village on the far eastern coast of Ostland and his only skills were hunting, sailing and use of arms. Although he spoke the desert people’s language as well as his native Antalian and the Common Tongue, he could hardly read or write at all and deep inside it nagged him.
‘Fancy having a shot at the title?’ Petja said to him with a grin. ‘Bah!’ Wulfgar said scornfully. ‘Southern kings are weak! A bunch of puppets with greedy merchants holding their strings! Our king Hord Dark-eye is strong. The line of Cnute is a line of warrior kings. Odin the all-father blesses us and keeps us strong in the face of the godless peddlers and foul sorcerers who would seek to destroy our traditions and turn us all into nursemaids!’ ‘I see’, Petja said. He thought it best not to pursue the matter further.
The Moon was making good time across the ocean to Ierendi’s main island and the capital city. Several times on their journey they saw groups of dolphins swimming alongside the hull in the sunny seas. The playful creatures almost seemed to observe the vessel as if to determine whether she was friend or foe.
It was late in the afternoon when they saw the coastline in the distance. Ierendi Island had long, white beaches and green, fertile lowlands of forests, plantations and farmland, which rose up into foothills and then a chain of low, volcanic mountains down the central spine of the island. On the west side of the mountains were mosquito-infested marshlands, where only the most desperate of pirates or uncaring of monsters took refuge.
With the sun slowly setting behind the Ierendi Uplands, the sea approach to the city was incredibly beautiful. From afar the party could see the white walls protecting the city and the two lighthouses flanking the entrance to the harbour. As the Moon neared the approach, Wulfgar spotted several huge metal spikes rising up from the water right in their path. He started to shout a warning to the helmsman but a moment later the spikes disappeared beneath the waves with a low groaning sound and captain Calanthar’s ship sailed smoothly past the gate into the harbour.
The city itself was a picturesque landscape of low, white buildings with colourful window shudders in blues and reds and most houses were beautifully decorated with orchids, hibiscus and other tropical flowers. There was the distinct smell of seaweed and tar in the harbour, which was quickly replaced by the sweet smell of fresh fruits when they disembarked and walked to the marketplace. For all of them except Eveil it was the first time they saw and tasted coconuts, pineapple, oranges, bananas and sugar cane.
Signor Luigi looked around at his travelling companions. ‘Ai will be de-lai-ted if you would ca-re to be mai guests at my hause’. The party quickly looked at each other before Ikaros replied ‘that is very kind of you, signor, but I think, for now, that we must say goodbye. Belmer’s dispatches require our full attention and we cannot relax just yet’.
‘In that case’, Madame Sorelli said, ‘I will also say goodbye and make haste to pay my sisters a visit. The immortals only know what they must have been going through since the Goodhope failed to reach port. I will see to it that they use their influence to get you an audience with Tribune Thalados Thundersword as soon as possible’.
‘We thank you, madam’ Ikaros replied and bowed his head.
‘Well, I have to look up an old friend and mentor at the School of Arts’ Thomas said. ‘Fare thee well, it has, indeed, been an adventure!’
With that, the group split up and went their separate ways. The party headed north from the marketplace past the School of Arts and turned left down an alley towards the marina. Everywhere scores of merry natives and foreigners wearing necklaces of flowers were dancing, singing and playing music in the streets. The smell of delicious, exotic cooking hung thick in the air and they soon came across a noisy place called All Night Long.
‘I like the sound of that!’ Whitemane exclaimed and rubbed his hands together in anticipation of a keg of beer and perhaps even a bar fight.
Inside, the All Night Long was a smoky hall built from burned bricks. Heavy wooden beams supported a roof of stone tiles quarried in the Ierendi Uplands. The place was filled with round tables and chairs where customers were sitting, eating. Not many of them looked like warriors or even just strong craftsmen and Whitemane’s hopes for a brawl diminished. In fact, he would swear several of the customers in the restaurant looked almost like wizards…
The party sat themselves down at a table and a pretty girl immediately came up to them and handed around pieces of paper with the word ‘menu’ written in large letters at the top.
‘Listen to this’, Petja said, reading from his menu: “Try the All Night Long Burger; roasted beef in one of Ruly the Baker’s famous seaweed buns topped with lettuce, spicy tomato sauce and slices of delicious pineapple!” SEAWEED BUNS??’
‘Yes’, Eveil replied, ‘the locals use seaweed for many dishes. It is full of vitamins and very good for your health’.
‘Yuk!’ Whitemane said with a disgusted look on his face. ‘I’ll just have the barbequed spareribs. 7 cokip – how much is that, Eveil?’
‘Cokips are the local copper pieces’, she replied.
‘Really, well that is certainly cheap. Now, what do they have to drink around here?’
Just then, a tall man wearing an expensive red set of clothes with gold trim came up to their table. ‘Good evening dear guests! Welcome to the All Night Long. I am Gelek, the owner. What would you like to eat?’
Eveil, Ikaros and Thaminor decided to have a seafood platter while Whitemane and Wulfgar went for the spareribs. Petja hesitated but then decided on the All Night Long Burger.
‘Very good sirs!’ Gelek said, ‘and the spareribs – how would you like them done?’
‘I take mine well done’ Whitemane replied. Wulfgar nodded. ‘Oh, and bring us a bottle of your strongest booze!’ Gelek bowed and headed for the kitchen. ‘After all that blasted ocean I need to get drunk!’ the dwarf said with a grin. Eveil smiled quietly to herself.
A while later Gelek returned with the seafood and the burger as well as a pitcher of mango juice. He went back into the kitchen and came back with a large metal grill on wheels on top of which were Whitemane and Wulfgar’s spareribs sizzling over the hot coals. He parked it next to their table.
‘You said well done?’ he inquired.
‘Sure’, Whitemane nodded.
Gelek made a few gestures and chanted a few words and then released a burning hot cone of flames from his hands down on the meat.
‘WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, MAN?’ Whitemane shouted while Wulfgar reached for his great northman’s axe.
‘Cooking your food, sir’ Gelek said with a confused look on his face.
Thaminor could hardly stop laughing at the sight of Whitemane and Wulfgar’s slightly scorched spareribs and Ikaros had immediately gotten his notes out to record this fascinating application of minor magic. Just then the pretty wench returned with a large clay bottle, which she sat down in the middle of the table. ‘Your spirits, sir’ she said cheerfully.
‘Finally’, Whitemane said grumbling and grabbed the bottle. Without stopping to smell the contents he put it to his lips and drank five hard swallows before his face turned a sick colour and he bent forwards coughing violently and spitting on the floor.
‘By Kagyar’s Hammer! What in the world is this stuff??’ he shouted.
Eveil smiled at him. ‘It’s called “waikeke” – seaweed spirits!’
Next time: A nightly visitor
Chapter 14:
A nightly visitor
After ordering some beer and eating their meal, which, despite being partly cooked with magic, was very tasty, the party got up to look around for accommodations for the night. They asked some of the locals, who were still singing in the streets, and were directed to an inn called the Serpent’s Eye right across the street from the All Night Long Restaurant.
They made their way to the inn and got six single rooms on the second floor. It was still early in the evening, so they decided to sit in the main room below and have a few drinks before going to bed. Eveil had them all try Ierendi’s famous wine made from the resin of the koa trees – the special native mahogany the Makai also used for shipbuilding. Whitemane and Wulfgar were not too fond of it and quickly reverted to imported ale.
They started talking about getting the audience with the tribune when Ikaros made another point:
‘Don’t forget that I, at least, am also here to find trace of the mages dressed in white who slew Balagarn!’
With the pirates’ attack and the long journey via Utter Island the others had completely forgotten about Palando’s staff.
‘Well, I guess we’ll have to keep our eyes and our ears open when we go up to the palace and see if we cannot learn something of whether or not the Honor Island Mages have a representative at court or not’, Petja said.
They were having another round of drinks when Wulfgar suddenly noticed a man watching them from a table in the shadows of a corner across the room. He was chubby and in need of a shave and he was wearing a green shoulder cape with a fixed hood.
‘Don’t look’, he said turning to the others, ‘but there is a man in a green hood watching us from the corner behind me’.
‘Where?’ Petja asked looking immediately in that direction. Wulfgar quickly looked over his shoulder in the direction of the man’s table and saw that he was gone. He quickly looked around and saw the back of him disappearing out the door into the street.
‘Strange’, Wulfgar said. ‘Do we follow him?’
‘Nah’ Petja said. ‘Probably just a local thug trying to estimate whether we would be a profitable target. Relax! It’s common’. He smiled a smile to his Northman friend that showed he knew what he was talking about and Wulfgar went back to his drinking.
Outside, the man in the green hood quickly walked down a couple of dark alleys before turning to a run-down old house. He carefully looked around before knocking a tapping code on the door and shortly after a small hole opened in it and a pair of unfriendly eyes stared out. The hooded man mumbled a few words and the door was opened to him. Quickly, he stepped inside.
At the Serpent’s Eye the party were going to bed. Ikaros, Wulfgar and Petja had rooms facing the street, while Whitemane, Eveil and Thaminor got rooms facing the quiet river.
It was well past midnight when Wulfgar awoke from a noise at the window. There was no light because he had put the candle out in his room but he could make out a tiny figure coming in via the moonlit window. As silently as he could, he reached out and picked up a small three-legged chair next to his bed, which he then hurled at the intruder, who was crossing the floor. Wulfgar hit him right in the face and the tiny figure was knocked down with a surprised ‘aauuww!’
In no time Wulfgar was upon him and sat across his chest dealing him a couple of severe blows to the face with his fist. Without lighting the candle, Wulfgar proceeded to tie his captive up with a length of rope from his pack when suddenly Ikaros was standing in the door with a candlestick in his hand. The Glantrian was still in his nightcap and white nightshirt.
‘What is going on, Wulfgar?’ he said.
‘I caught an intruder’, Wulfgar said harshly. ‘Bring the light closer and let us have a look at him’.
When Ikaros approached him with the candles they could see that it was no man, Wulfgar had caught. He was short, only about three feet tall, and had heavy sideburns and large, hairy feet. It was a halfling – one of the little folk of the Five Shires.
‘Ask him what he is doing here’ Ikaros said.
‘I can’t. I am afraid I may have hit him a little too hard’ Wulfgar replied.
Ikaros found a jug of water and tossed it in the halfling’s face, who woke up sputtering and whining.
‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’ Wulfgar demanded and shook the little fellow violently.
‘My…my name is Myrmeen. I am terribly sorry, please don’t hurt me!’ the little halfling cried.
‘Who told you we were here? What did you come here to steal?’ Ikaros said harshly and pointed a threatening finger at the quivering thief.
‘I…nobody told me anything. I saw the gold in your purse when you paid your bill downstairs and… oh, please let me go. I swear I’ll never break into people’s rooms again!’ Myrmeen said.
‘Hmm, should I call the city guard or just toss him out the window?’ Wulfgar asked Ikaros.
‘We’re three stories up!’ Myrmeen whined.
‘No, I have a better idea’ Ikaros said. ‘Listen, thief. We will let you go on one condition’.
Myrmeen nodded intensively to show that he understood and Ikaros continued: ‘If we let you go you have to promise us your service at some point in the future when we may have need for it. Swear that, and we will let you go’.
‘I swear it’ the little burglar said quietly.
‘Good. Know that I am a wizard of Glantri. My magic will hold you to your word and you will suffer terribly if you break your oath’ Ikaros said in a grim voice.
The halfling nodded eagerly and Wulfgar untied him and he ran out of the room as fast as his short legs could carry him. Wulfgar and Ikaros looked at each other and laughed.
‘Well, such a contact may come in handy at some point’ Ikaros said with a satisfied smile. ‘Goodnight Wulfgar’.
‘Goodnight Ikaros’ the warrior replied.
Next time: To the palace
To the palace
Tserdain 17th, Felmont, the Year 1000 After Crowning
At breakfast Wulfgar and Ikaros told the others about the night’s intruder and they all had a good laugh. After their meal Ikaros, Eveil, Wulfgar and Petja dressed in their finest clothes and went to the magnificent coral palace to seek an audience with Thalados Thundersword, the Tribune of the Department of Foreign Affairs.
It seemed the sisters of Madame Sorelli had already made their influence count for the party was admitted without much fuss into the grand offices of the tribune. Several pieces of armour and beautiful weapons adorned the walls, testimonies of a lifetime spent in the military before turning to politics. Thalados Thudersword was a fit man in his mid-fifties, who wore a black tunic with a coat of arms displaying a silver eagle on the chest. His eyes were keen and judging but his smile was warm and welcoming.
‘Welcome, please have a seat’ he said and pointed to a number of comfortable chairs in front of his desk.
‘Why is he offering us the seats of his chairs?’ Wulfgar whispered to Petja with a confused look on his face.
‘He means please sit down’ Petja whispered back and sat down with a grateful smile.
‘Oh’, Wulfgar said and sat down next to him.
‘Now, what can I do for you?’ Thalados Thundersword asked in a pleasant tone.
Eveil proceeded to tell him the events onboard the Goodhope, the pirates, the capture of Belmer and the dispatches, which she then handed to him. With a concerned frown the broke the seal and quickly read them.
‘This is a most serious matter’ Thalados Thundersword said, ‘which I shall present to the King at once. I thank you for your services’. Then he quickly scribbled down a note on a piece of paper and gave it his personal seal. ‘This letter will get you a reward of a hundred geleva each if you hand it to the steward outside my door’ he said and handed the letter to Eveil, who nodded and thanked him.
They quickly left the office and found the steward waiting outside. Eveil handed him the letter from the Tribune and he walked them to an office of the treasury where the payment was made.
‘Excuse me’, Ikaros then said. ‘Do you know if the esteemed Honor Island Mages have a representative here at the court that I could speak to also?’
‘Well, yes sir. Lady Gherynid is the Honor Plenipotentiary here at court. Would you like me to see if I can arrange a meeting?'
‘Yes, I would, thank you’.
‘Very well sir, if you would just like to wait in the palace garden, I shall see what can be done and then come and fetch you’.
Eveil, Petja and Wulfgar went back to the Serpent’s Eye while Ikaros walked into the magnificent garden and sat down on a bench.
Next time: A meeting in the palace garden
A meeting in the palace garden
It was a warm and sunny day in the palace garden. Butterflies were swarming everywhere and humming birds drinking the nectar of the flowers and beautifully sculpted sugar water feeders. The air was heavy with the smell of exotic flowers and little squirrels were darting around in several of the trees.
Ikaros walked past several cages with tigers and other of the king’s pets and found a quiet spot in the middle of the garden and sat down on a white marble bench next to a beautiful fountain made from bright corals. He drank a sip of water and took out his journal to record some of his observations. Never had he seen such a place of tranquillity and beauty!
He had written half a page when he heard something in the bushes behind him. He looked back over his shoulder but only saw the leaves moving a little. A moment later he heard it again. This time he put away his book and stared into the bush intensely.
‘Why don’t you come out of there?’ he asked. ‘It’s okay’. A small girl, perhaps eight years old, in a nice silk dress came crawling out on her hands and knees, stood up and looked curiously at the Glantrian wizard.
‘Who are you hiding from?’ Ikaros said in a playful voice.
‘My nanny – she says I have to take a bath’ the little girl replied shyly while she stared fascinated at the wizard’s spell component bags and heavily waxed red moustache.
‘Ah, I see’, Ikaros replied with a smile. ‘I don’t blame you. I never liked being forced to take a bath either. What is your name?’
‘Clarissa, what’s yours?’
‘I am Ikaros Ilfamion from Boldavia in the Magocracy of Glantri’.
‘Are you a wizard?’ Clarissa asked and Ikaros nodded proudly. ‘Then show me some magic!’ the little girl pleaded.
‘Al right’, Ikaros said. ‘Let’s see now, how that spell goes…’
He rose up from the bench and made a few gestures with his hands while he spoke the words of the spell that summoned up small magical creations. There was a sound in the air like the striking of a hundred small bells and a whirl of blue and white sparkles and then a miniature piano appeared out of thin air on the bench.
‘Do you know how to play?’ Ikaros asked with a smile.
‘Not very well’, Clarissa replied. ‘My teacher says I have to practice’.
‘Well, you must practice if you ever want to become good at anything in this life’, Ikaros said with all the wisdom of an adult he could muster. ‘Fortunately, this little piano can play all by itself’. And just then the miniature instrument began playing a merry tune.
Clarissa giggled and stared at the magic with a delighted look on her face. Then she reached around her neck and took a small golden chain with a beautiful broche on it. ‘Here’, she said. ‘This is for you!’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t take that’, Ikaros said and stared at the broche in his hand. It was made from silver in the shape two mermen framing a beautiful pearl. ‘It’s much too precious!’
‘Take it!’ Clarissa said. ‘My father says always to pay people an honest wage for an honest job and I liked your magic!’
‘Very well then’ Ikaros said. ‘I thank you for your gift. But speaking of you fa…’
Just then, a desperate cry across the garden interrupted them. ‘Milaaaaaaaaady?? Where are you Milady?’
‘Shoot! There’s my nanny’ Clarissa said with a sour face. ‘She found me’.
A very large, round woman came darting around a corner. ‘Milady! There you are. I have been looking all over for you! Don’t you know that it is time for your bath?’ she scolded. Ikaros stepped quickly aside as the woman grabbed Clarissa’s arm.
‘Sorry, nanny’ she said in a quiet voice and waved back at Ikaros as she was dragged off to her bath.
‘Come along, your highness’ the woman said as they disappeared behind the bushes.
Your highness!?! Ikaros thought to himself and swallowed hard. He looked down at the broche in his hand and quickly put it in his pocket.
A few minutes later the steward returned and informed him that the Honor Plenipotentiary, Lady Gherynid, had time to see him now and would he please follow this way?
Ikaros cast a quick glance back at the way Clarissa had disappeared, collected his notes and followed the steward back into the palace.
Next time: A wizardly bargain
A wizardly bargain
The steward led Ikaros to the halls of the various ambassadors at the court and knocked at a set of heavy wooden doors. A servant opened it and showed Ikaros into a luxurious chamber with a large polished koa tree table and chairs, heavy drapes by the windows and carpeting on the floor. A tall, lean womanly figure stood by the open window looking out at the sea. She was beautiful in a cold kind of way. Her skind was unnaturally pale for this climate and her makeup gave her elegant face an almost mask-like stillness. She was wearing a long, sleeveless white dress and brass bracelets set with red gemstones. A net of silver strings and pearls held her long dark hair in place. When she turned and greeted Ikaros, he saw a smile on her face but her eyes were those of a predator.
‘Thank you for taking the time to meet me milady’, Ikaros said and bowed kissing her outstretched hand.
‘Don’t mention it’, she purred, obviously in an effort to be charming. ‘Please, sit down’.
‘I have asked for this meeting because I am searching for a man I believe to be a wizard of Honor Island’, Ikaros continued.
‘Really?’ Gherynid sounded surprised. ‘But who are you, anyway?’
‘My apologies for not introducing myself. I am Ikaros Ilfamion, a humble mage from Boldavia in the far north’.
‘You don’t say?’ Gherynid said. ‘Are you a graduate from the Great School of Magic?’
‘Eh, no. My master was a local wizard. Unfortunately, he died before I was ready to journey to Glantri City to take the Test’.
‘I see’, Gherynid said and looked like a cat that had just captured a mouse to play with. ‘Do go on’.
‘Well, for reasons I cannot disclose I am searching for a man named Zajimarn. It is very important that I find him, and I suspect that he might hail from your esteemed island’.
‘I see’, Gherynid said. ‘Has this got something to do with revenge?’
‘No no’ Ikaros said hastily. ‘More like a business proposition’.
‘Pity. It has been such a long time since we have had an entertaining magical duel here at the castle’.
Ikaros swallowed hard at the thought of facing one or more of the mages that slew Balagarn and took the staff. ‘Look, dear lady, I REALLY need to speak to Zajimarn. I understand that setting foot on Honor Island bear the penalty of death for outsiders but if you could somehow contact him I would deem it a great favour and pledge a service in return’.
‘Your service?’ Gherynid laughed out loud. ‘And what use would I have for an apprentice that has not even taken the Test?’
‘I apologise, but at the moment that is all I have to offer’, Ikaros said humbly, trying hard to swallow his pride and conceal his anger. ‘But I assure you. I WILL take the Test!’
‘Sure, sure’, Gherynid said. She stopped and stared at him for a while. ‘Al right. Come back in one week. But Zajimarn won’t come just because I tell him that some Glantrian whelp is here to see him’.
‘Tell him it is concerning the demise of Balagarn’, Ikaros said with a smile. ‘And please explain to him that it is a business meeting’.
Gherynid’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the young Glantrian. ‘I am not sure whether you are brave or just foolish. If you are going to try and blackmail Zajimarn, he will just destroy you’.
‘Well, believe me, I have no intentions of that sort!’ Ikaros said with a sincere face as he stood up from his chair. ‘Thank you for your time, I will be back in one week’.
Then he bowed and turned towards the door. Just before he reached it, Gherynid spoke again:
‘I will not forget the service you promised me! Rest assured of that!’
Ikaros turned and smiled, bowed once more and closed the doors behind him when he stepped into the hall.
You have to stop this madness before you end up owing services from here to the Red River! he thought to himself. Quickly, he walked back to the Serpent’s Eye to inform his friends that they had a week to kill in town.
Next time: The tribune’s offer
GW
Excellent. I really enjoy he detail and touches you've added. The Traladaran seamen, the flatulent Darokinian. Is this for a campaign you play in, or DM?
GW
Thank you very much! I really enjoy the Broken Lands Tales as well :D
These stories are from a campaign I have been DMing since the beginning of 2002. Back then they were level 3, now they are level 9-10 and two characters have left and another joined. They are about to embark on soloadventures for a year and hopefully I will get around to writing all episodes from now til then sometime around Christmas-next summer. I just gotta hand in that damn dissertation first... *LOL*
The tribune’s offer
Tserdain 17th, Felmont, the Year 1000 After Crowning
They were all sitting at the All Night Long having dinner when Ikaros informed them that he had to wait a week for a chance to meet Zajimarn.
‘So how are you going to handle it, if doesn’t feel like bargaining for the staff?’ Petja asked.
‘Well, first off I’ll try and trade it for a term of service of some kind. But the real ace up my sleeve is that there is an angry ghost on my side. I doubt it very much that the Honor Island mages would care to become the victims of an angry ghost haunting their island no matter how powerful they are’, Ikaros said.
‘Well, let us toast to it never having to come to that’, Thaminor said and raised his goblet. He had become quite fond of the local wine.
None of them noticed a hooded face staring at them through a window from the dark alley outside…
*****************************************
He was busy shopping at the morning market in the centre of town. Mustn’t forget to buy those buttons for Wya’s dress today he muttered to himself as he went along. He came to a stall where a vendor was peddling goods.
‘Good morning fine sir! Please, have a look at my fine wares!’ the vendor said.
He was in a hurry, so he just replied: ‘I am looking for buttons, do you have any?’
‘No, I am afraid not but I have something else that I am sure will strike the master’s fancy’ the shabby vendor said intriguingly.
‘Well, I really don’t have the time…’ he began, but the vendor drew forth an elegant box of wood with fine carvings on the lid.
‘Please sir, look inside. I am sure you will like this’.
He was just about to turn away when the vendor opened the lid. His eyes caught a glimpse of what was inside and he froze. Hypnotised, he just stood there and stared deeper and deeper into the box, deeper and deeper into the box… Then all was darkness.
******************************************
‘Wow! That was really a great breakfast!’
Nothing would cheer up Whitemane as quickly as a meal or a fight. This morning he had just eaten five pancakes, a half chicken, two loaves of bread, a plate of poi and washed it all down with two pints of sweet beer.
The rest of the party nodded and sat back in their chairs around the table at the Serpent’s Eye. Petja stretched and yawned. ‘So, what the heck are we going to do here for an entire week, Eveil?’ he asked.
‘Well, we can take a boat down the coast and just relax or you can go hunting in the jungles. There isn’t as much big game here as on Safari Island, but it can still get… interesting’.
‘Safari Island, huh? What’s that?’ Wulfgar asked.
‘Well, Safari Island is the second largest island in Ierendi. It has been set up as a national reserve where animals and monsters can live protected from man’.
‘Monsters? Protected from man? What kind of nonsense is that?’ Whitemane exclaimed.
‘It’s true’ Eveil continued. ‘The government has set up a zone covering most of the island except the coast in which large game – even monsters such as hydras and dinosaurs – can live. If you pay a fee you can then get a licence to go hunting in the reserves’.
‘Hunting, huh?’ Wulfgar said and took a swig of his brew.
‘Sure’ Eveil said. ‘And it’s no picnic either, believe me. There are all kinds of nasty snakes and other creepy things living in those jungles and swamps. Most of the customers are wealthy landowners from other countries, who’d like to have a dinosaur trophy on their wall. They come with servants and guards and bearers and clappers and dog trainers and go on big game hunts that last three or four weeks before they come back’.
‘So, nobody is allowed to hunt or even be in the reserves without a license?’ Petja asked.
‘Nobody. Unless you have a local guide or a license it is off limits’ Eveil replied. ‘But hunting isn’t the only thing that goes on there. There are also so-called adventure parks’.
‘Adventure parks? Heh! What are they?’ Whitemane asked.
‘Well, it all began in 974 AC when a warrior named Gastenoo Longblade and a wizard named Simon Saint-Pierre established the first one and within a couple of years there were a dozen more. An adventure park combines a series of mental and physical challenges into a storyline with some sort of quest the participants have to solve’.
‘But how?’ Petja inquired.
‘I don’t know exactly, but I suppose they have to solve puzzles, cross gorges, climb walls, read treasure maps and stuff like that’.
‘No fighting? That’s pathetic!’ Whitemane snorted.
‘I have heard of some adventure parks that also include more dangerous things such as fighting weak monsters and avoiding traps, but customers generally prefer the non-lethal ones. It’s like a vacation for them – something to test their mettle without actually endangering them’.
‘That sounds weak! Where is the glory and heroism of adventure if you never risk a thing?’ Wulfgar asked.
‘Well’, Eveil said, ‘most of the customers are sons of noble families in e.g. Thyatis who just come here for a good time. They are not looking to risk anything but just to blow off steam in between semesters at the Imperial Academy or Collegium Arcanum’.
Hmm Petja thought, interesting. That would be a great opportunity if one were ever inclined to kidnap a senator’s son…
Just then, a messenger from the palace walked in. He looked around for a few seconds then headed towards their table. When he reached it, he introduced himself:
‘Greetings! My name is Amos and I am a royal messenger. I bring word to you from his lordship Facas Silversail, tribune of the Department of Internal Affairs’.
With those words he placed a sealed scroll in the outstretched hand of Petja, bowed and left.
Petja unfolded the scroll and read aloud for the others:
“Dear Sirs! On behalf of the Kingdom I request your services in a matter of outmost urgency! Attached is a map showing the way to the village of Punaauia at the foot of the Ierendi Uplands. For years the villagers have worked the local quarry to make stones for the many fine villas built in the hills by wealthy citizens. But now I am afraid the miners have stumbled upon something at the roots of the mountains – some dark unknown horror. Several miners are missing and you are the only ones I can turn to in this hour of need to rescue them! Please, go to Punaauia at once. Upon the completion of this mission I will pay each member of your group the sum of 500 geleva.
Sincerely and respectfully,
Lord Facas Silversail
Tribune of Internal Affairs”.
‘Well, that certainly got things going’ Wulfgar said cheerfully. Looks like we wont have to sit on our hands all week anyway’.
They quickly studied the map and agreed that the journey to Punaauia could be done in a day and a half on horseback. Petja went out to buy them all fresh horses and gear and the others went upstairs to pack their equipment.
Two hours later they all rode out of the city’s west gate following the road to the Uplands on the map.
Next time: On the road to Punaauia
On the road to Punaauia
Moldain 18th, Felmont, the Year 1000 After Crowning
The road to Punaauia was dusty and hot. The horses carried them quickly though the plantations outside the city, which were mostly fruit orchards and coffee farms. Within an hour they were surrounded by heavy tropical forest and the path ahead grew dim and damp. For the sake of the horses they slowed down a bit and rode quietly on following the jungle trail.
They had been travelling for half a day when they reached a turn in the road. As they cleared it, a dozen or so arrows suddenly flew from both sides of the road immediately killing Eveil and Thaminor's mounts and wounding the other horses. In a second everything turned into chaos. Ikaros’ horse reared and threw him to the ground before it galloped down the road. Whitemane tried to keep his horse calm but was then struck by two arrows in the chest and fell hard to the ground. Petja and Wulfgar quickly dismounted and took up a defensive position on both sides of their fallen friends.
For a moment all was quiet in the forest as Ikaros, Whitemane, Thaminor and Eveil moaning got to their feet. Then a group of armed men charged screaming forth from the edge of the jungle. Although Wulfgar killed one with his axe and Petja crippled the arm of another with his rapier they were desperately outnumbered, two or three against one.
Ikaros turned to face an assailant and was about to release a spell when he was struck on the head with a mace and fell unconscious to the ground. Eveil, likewise, tried to fend off the bludgeoning blows from three of the bandits but one of them struck her from behind and she fell limp to the ground.
By the time Thaminor fell as well, Whitemane, Petja and Wulfgar had killed or disarmed a further six of the bandits. Wulfgar recognised their leader as the man in the green hood who had been watching them two days before at the Serpent’s Eye. Suddenly, another figure dressed completely in black robes stepped from the shadows of the jungle. He raised his hands towards them and while he gestured he uttered words of ancient magic.
Out a thin air, a thick web of sticky spider strands materialised around them and held Whitemane and Petja firmly in place. In a moment the bandits were upon them and clubbed them to unconsciousness.
Only Wulfgar still stood and he now summoned his incredible barbarian rage and broke the magical bonds laid upon him by the wizard’s spell. Fearful, the bandits withdrew and formed a defensive circle around him.
‘Who’s next? Come on you cowards! By Thor, I’ll split your skulls!’ Wulfgar shouted with foam coming out of his mouth. None of the bandits dared get near him, so he lunged forward in rage and with a mighty strike shattered the weapon of one of them and drove his axe deep into his ribcage.
The darkrobed wizard gestured once again and when he spoke, five glowing missiles of magical energy were released from his hand. They struck Wulfgar squarely in the chest but still the barbarian did not fall. Instead, he took a step towards the mage and smashed his great northman’s axe though the helmet of a man blocking his path.
Wulfgar was about to charge the wizard when his mind registered another figure stepping from the forest. He was dressed in a heavy set of chainmail and brown tunics. His head was shaven bald and he had a moustache shaped like a horseshoe that reached his chin. In his hands he held a heavy crossbow with a strange blue metal bolt on it.
‘Thoooorrrrr!’ Wulfgar roared as he lunged towards the dark spellcaster but before he could reach him the bald crossbowman shot him in the chest with the strange blue arrow. He felt a pain surge through his body. Then darkness.
Next time: Revenge of the Iron Ring
Revenge of the Iron Ring
The first thing he registered, when he regained consciousness was the sound of running water. He felt the ground beneath him rock slowly but he wasn’t lying on the ground. When he opened his eyes he saw tree branches and a bit of a clear blue sky. A bird was sitting on a branch, watching him it seemed.
The next thing he registered was unfamiliar voices around him, off to his left. He could taste blood in his mouth and his head was throbbing with pain. He tried to sit up but realised that his hands were bound on his back. His feet were bound with heavy rope as well. Slowly, he turned his head and saw a number of men on the bank of a river going through their saddlebags.
Thaminor looked around him. They were on a crude raft on the riverbank. Petja, Ikaros, Whitemane, Eveil, Wulfgar. They were all there. Tied up and helpless.
‘What about this?’ one of the men on the riverbank asked another. He was holding Ikaros’ journal in his hands and gesturing towards a bonfire. Much of their clothes and other belongings were already burning.
‘No, keep it. I think it will interest Master B…’
He didn’t get to finish his sentence before a large, bald-shaven man stepped up to him and slapped him across the face with a gauntlet-clad fist. ‘Keep your mouth shut and get on with it!’ he shouted and grabbed the journal out of the other man’s hands.
They could all do nothing but watch as most of their belongings were tossed onto the bonfire. The bandits kept a few of their weapons, Ikaros’ spellbook and journal and their rations. Whatever magical items they had possessed had been removed before they woke up.
The bald man stepped out into the river at looked at them. They could see a vicious glee in his dark eyes and he lit up in a smile as he spoke:
‘We didn’t reach you in time to stop you from delivering the dispatches to the tribune. It does not matter much. This lesson will be a signal to all. If you cross the Iron Ring you will die!’
The large man in the green hood stepped from the bank into the water and started to push the raft out into the middle of the water.
‘This river will take you back to Ierendi City’ the bald leader said. ‘Of course, there is a waterfall three miles down the river so you might no be sitting on the raft by then’ he added with an evil smile.
‘Take care not to get wet feet!’ the green hooded man said with a stupid grin as he gave the raft a final push out into the river.
‘Well, you’ve already got wet feet’ Wulfgar said mockingly.
With a dissatisfied grunt the large man gave the raft a violent shove and headed back towards the riverbank.
‘Hey! *******!’ Wulfgar shouted to the bald-headed leader. ‘I am gonna find you, and when I do – I am gonna gut you like a fish!’ the barbarian added with a smile.
For a moment the bald man looked worried, then he regained his composure and answered: ‘I seriously doubt that!’
The raft started to flow down the stream and soon the bandits on the riverbank were out of sight. To begin with the current was not too strong but it gradually quickened and before long they were headed towards a series of white foamed rapids with sharp rocks jutting out of the water left and right…
Next time: Rafting
Rafting
The river ran faster and faster and the crude raft groaned terribly the first time they struck a large rock and were tossed further into the middle of the current.
‘We have to get off of this thing!’ Whitemane shouted.
‘You don’t say?’ Petja replied. ‘Thaminor, see if you can search my left boot for my secret knife. They may not have found it’.
The half-elf crawled as best he could over to Petja’s left leg and felt the shaft of his boot.
‘Nothing’ he said in response to the hopeful look on the young rogue’s face.
The raft continued down a series of rapids, splashing violently and nearly tossing Ikaros and Wulfgar overboard. A few of the thin ropes holding the raft together started to groan and snap.
‘We’ll die if we stay here much longer!’ Ikaros shouted.
Wulfgar managed to sit up for a second and with a powerful roar he summoned all his strength: ‘OOOOOOOddiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnn!!!!’
His bonds started to snap and then break completely as the red-faced barbarian flexed his powerful muscles.
‘You did it!’ Ikaros shouted. ‘Quick! Untie the rest of us!’
Wulfgar quickly untied his own legs and then continued to help his friends. He first untied Eveil’s hands and was busy trying to untie Thaminor when the raft went through another set of violent rapids and falls. The raft shook suddenly when it hit a large rock and with a panicked cry Petja rolled over the edge and disappeared underneath the surface.
‘Petja!’ Wulfgar shouted. The raft was moving quickly now and Petja did not surface again. With a quick look at his friends on the raft Wulfgar dove into the violent river.
‘Wulfgar!’ Whitemane shouted but the pace of the river quickly took them so far away he could no longer see where Petja had gone under.
They were now only a few hundred feet from the great waterfalls and sitting in the middle of a violent river on a raft that was slowly coming apart underneath them. Eveil had untied the others in a hurry.
‘We need to get ashore!’ she shouted. ‘My spells can only help three of us!’
‘Help them!’ Ikaros shouted and pointed at Whitemane and Thaminor. As Eveil began her sorcerous incantations he turned to look ahead. He had only a few moments before the raft was either destroyed or sent flying out over the waterfalls.
Eveil finished her spells and shouted to Whitemane and Thaminor: ‘You will have to jump!’
‘That is impossible!’ Whitemane exclaimed. ‘It is more than 30 feet!’
‘My magic will help you! Just follow me!’ Eveil shouted back. Then she took a few quick steps and leaped into the air towards the riverbank. Whitemane and Thaminor were left gawking for a split second when her magic almost seemed to hurl her through the air and land in the top of a tree on the shore. They quickly followed suit and jumped safely to the riverbank.
Ikaros never even noticed that they were gone – he was so focused on the success of his own spell. ‘Thank Rad I don’t need my components for this’ he muttered upon the spells completion.
Eveil quickly jumped safely down from the tree she had landed in and looked at Ikaros on the raft that was about to go over the edge of the waterfall. Just then, a massive creature emerged in the river right between the raft and a large rock on Ikaros’ left side. It was a sickly black colour with lots of visible, bloated red veins and yellow eyes. Its large maw was filled with nasty teeth and it had several long tentacles.
Half of those tentacles it used to grab hold of the large rock and the other half it used to grab hold of the raft, Ikaros was sitting on. Like a pendulum it swung the raft to relative safety in the left side of the river between several large rocks before the creature disappeared beneath the surface and was washed out over the waterfall.
Somewhat exhausted, Ikaros climbed from rock to rock until he reached his friends on the left bank.
‘That was incredible, Ikaros!’ Thaminor exclaimed. ‘What was that?’
‘I – I used my powers to summon a magical creature to aid me’ Ikaros said, trying to catch his breath.
They decided to rest for a few minutes before heading up river to search for their friends. It was getting dark and they were wet, cold and hungry. They had no weapons, no armour, practically no spells and no way of starting a fire…
Next time: Separated
GW
Cool, I'm caught up. How did the party react to having all of their stuff taken? Did you plan this to relieve them of stuff, or to further a story plot?
GW
Thanx! :D
Well, I have always been fascinated with the Robinson Crusoe kind of game in which the players loose everything and have to start over from scratch.
Many years ago I read "The Adventurers" which is the story of a campaign DM'ed by Thomas Miller I think his name is. It is some of the best fantasy writing I have read so far - even if it is set in Greyhawk. The party goes from being level 1 nobodies to level 19 AD&D 1E challenging Orcus on his own plane and beyond. Quite epic and a lot of fun to read.
Anyway, I was inspired by Thomas when he stripped his players of everything and dumped them in a cavern system. They had to improvise weapons and torches to make it out of there. Scary!
I recommend "The Adventurers" warmly. Find them at the Green Dragon Inn at www.peldor.com :D
Oh, and to answer your question: My players did not like having their things taken (especially the few magic items they had). Strangely enough, Ulrik, who plays Ikaros, thought it was a fun challenge and didn't even miss his spellbook all that much. (at least, to begin with).
But as a DM I felt I could justify it. Nothing motivates like hatred and a desire to get even with the bad guys. And being sent down a river towards a waterfall was just what the doctor ordered so to speak.
I hope you will stay tuned for more!
:-) Jesper
Separated
The air in the tomb was dusty and dry. As they crawled on their hands and knees through the old ventilation shaft the picks and shovels they had brought made a clanking noise whenever they scratched the ceiling.
They emerged in a large room with cracked columns supporting an arched ceiling. In the light of their flickering torches they could see ancient frescoes on the walls.
‘Look!’ the first man said. ‘Death murals! This must be the outer chambers of the tomb’.
He was dressed in dark studded leather armour and a grey cape. Apart from a pick and shovel he also carried a length of rope over his shoulder and a short sword by his side. His dark, unkempt hair and unshaven face gave him a devil-may-care look but the light shining in his eyes revealed his boyish excitement.
‘You’re right Misha. This could be the place’ the other man nodded. He was probably a year or two older than Misha but still just a young man.
They proceeded down the steps of a large gallery presumably leading to the inners of the tomb. At the end of the gallery was a large set of heavy, brass-clad doors covered with obscure markings and runes.
‘I don’t like it’ Misha said. ‘Unless I am mistaken, these markings are a warning not to disturb the contents of the tomb. It says eternal torment is sure to befall anyone who enters’.
‘Rubbish’ the other man said. ‘Just old wives’ tales. Think about all the treasure inside! We are going to be rich!’
‘I don’t know…’ Misha said hesitatingly. ‘Maybe we should just go back?’
‘Nonsense’. His companion had already picked the lock and started to push open the great doors.
Inside was a chamber beyond even their wildest dreams. Several large columns supported a ceiling more than 50 feet above. In the middle of the chamber was a stone platform rising out of pool of dark water. A narrow bridge led across from a ledge just inside the doors to the platform. On the platform stood a sarcophagus and all around it were clay pots filled to the rim with gold and glistening gemstones.
A broad smile lit up on the face of Misha’s companion as he strode across the bridge. Misha followed close on his heels. When they reached the platform they started searching though the gold and gems and laughing hysterically.
‘We’re rich! Rich!’
‘I know!’ Misha shouted.
They started to fill their pockets and the sacks they had brought. When they had taken all they could carry Misha turned and started walking across the bridge. A noise behind him made him stop. He turned and saw his companion attempting to open the sarcophagus.
‘Don’t mess with that! Leave it alone!’ he warned.
‘Aren’t you curious to see what is inside?’
‘No! We got what we came for! Let’s get the hell out of here!’ Misha said in a fearful voice.
Just then, his companion managed to pry open the lid of the sarcophagus with his crowbar. He started sliding it over when a low rumbling noise made them both look up at the ceiling. There was a flash of heat and light as liquid fire started falling on them.
‘Get out! Get out!’
They both ran as fast as they could across the bridge, up a few stairs and out the door into the gallery beyond. The floor of the gallery was already aflame as fire rained from the ceiling here as well.
As they raced up the stairs of the gallery towards the outer tomb a heavy wall of stone began to descend in front of them, blocking their only escape route. When it was a mere three feet off the floor, Misha’s companion leaped forward and tumbled underneath it. But Misha tripped on the stairs before he could reach it.
‘Misha! Get up! Grab my hand!’
But Misha couldn’t reach it.
Just before the huge stone wall slammed down into the floor he could hear Misha scream as a large blob of flame set his clothes on fire.
‘MISHA!! NOOOOOOOOO!!!’
*********************************************************************
‘Misha!’
He was drenched with sweat as he jolted up in his sleep.
He felt terrible. Pain was throbbing though his every limb and his vision was blurred. He looked around and saw Wulfgar stare at him from across a campfire. They were in a forest. It was dark. He could hear the river nearby… and the sound of animals in the bushes.
‘Are you all right, Petja?’ Wulfgar asked. ‘It is good to see you finally awake. I was beginning to worry’.
‘Whoa…who…how?’ Petja began to mumble confused.
‘You fell of the raft and into the river’, Wulfgar explained. ‘I dove in and found you at the bottom. You had hit your head pretty bad and were unconscious. I managed to get you out of the river and stop the bleeding’.
Petja touched his forehead and felt a bandage of torn cloth. ‘Thanks’.
‘Don’t mention it. I got a fire going and have been waiting for you to wake up for half a day now’.
‘Any sign of the others?’
‘No’. Wulfgar shook his head and looked into the fire. ‘I wanted to go looking for them downstream, but I didn’t want to leave you the way you were’.
‘I appreciate that’ the rogue said dryly.
‘Who’s Misha?’ Wulfgar asked.
‘Nobody. Just a bad dream’ Petja said and looked away. His hand felt inside his tunic. They had not found it. From a secret pocket he took forth a small silver medallion and held it into the light of the campfire.
Misha…
*********************************************************************
‘Damn, I hate the forest at night!’ Whitemane growled. He kept tripping in the wines and underbrush.
‘Well, we can’t very well just sit here. We need to find the others!’ Thaminor replied. He was in the lead and the elven blood in his veins gave him no problems at all finding his way over rocks and wines along the riverbank.
They had started walking upstream on the side of the river they had stranded on and let Eveil’s parrot, Pesh, scout the far bank for any signs of Petja and Wulfgar. They were alert, for the members of the Iron Ring could still be lurking further up river.
They continued on in silence.
Next time: Searching for each other
Cool, I'm caught up. How did the party react to having all of their stuff taken? Did you plan this to relieve them of stuff, or to further a story plot?
GW
We didnt react all that well (except for the mage) it took some time to forgive our beloved DM
Joke. As Spellweaver said, it did built a hatred and when we catch them the revenge will so much sweeter
But its nice to read the stories, it is like dooing it all over again. Keep up the good work Jesper.
Take care and have fun all of you
Dragontatto
But its nice to read the stories, it is like dooing it all over again
Glad to hear it! :D
(In case the rest of you haven't figured it out, Dragontattoo plays Wulfgar the Barbarian in my campaign. In two and a half years he's only missed a single game session!)
Stay tuned for more...
:-) Jesper
Searching for each other
It was daybreak when Petja woke up. He looked around and saw Wulfgar sitting next to the campfire examining an assortment of berries and fruits.
‘Morning’ the rogue said with a sleepy smile. ‘What’s for breakfast?’
‘Not sure’ the barbarian answered. ‘I found this stuff in the forest nearby but I have never seen such berries before. They could be very tasty or they could be poisonous’.
‘I’m starving’ Petja said. ‘Do you think we should try just a single one?’
‘Well, if we don’t eat something we’ll never make it out of this jungle’ Wulfgar replied. ‘I figure it is at least a couple of days hike along the river to the village and maybe as much as four or five days in the other direction to the city’.
‘And we don’t know if the Iron Ring will be waiting for us, when we get there’ Petja pointed out.
They ate a few of the berries that turned out to be very tasty and then agreed that it would be safest to try and hike to the village. Wulfgar laid out a few crude sticks on the ground – a signal to their friends should they still be alive and come looking for them.
**********************************************************
‘Any sign of them?’
Thaminor looked inquisitively at Eveil who seemed to be communicating with her parrot, Pesh, who had just returned from the far riverbank.
‘Pesh saw the remains of a campfire and some sticks laid out to point upriver’ Eveil replied. ‘They may yet be alive – both of them’.
It was just before noon and they were all sweaty and dirty from a long hike in the jungle along the river. Their knees were scraped and their hands stung from what felt like hundreds of tiny cuts and wounds from the vegetation. It might look pleasant and green but this jungle was anything but.
‘By Rad! I will have a thing or two to say to those bandits when we catch up with them!’ Ikaros sighed. He was still tormented by the loss of his spellbook and his journal and couldn’t stand the thought of those thugs perhaps using them for kindling or worse – toilet paper!
They rested for a while as Eveil looked around for some food – she had no problems coming up with enough edible plants, fruits and berries for all of them – and then continued upriver.
*********************************************************
Two days later Wulfgar and Petja stumbled out of the jungle and into a clearing on the riverbank. Before them lay the tiny village of Punaauia whose workers they had been asked to come and save from the horror in the mines. At the moment they didn’t look anything like rescuers. They were covered in dirt and grime, their clothes were torn and bloody and their faces unshaven.
As they slowly staggered across a small field of vegetable gardens towards the village a number of villagers spotted them and came to their aid. They were given water to drink and crude stretchers were made to carry them inside the cool huts in the village.
They were too tired to give much of an explanation and the villagers simply gave them care and something to eat and drink without any questions. A number of curious children swarmed around the beds in the hut, however, watching the strangers from a safe distance behind barrels and sacks and other furniture.
Just before Petja sank deep into a troubled sleep he saw a beautiful Makai girl sitting on the side of his bed gently washing his face with a cold wet rag.
*************************************************************
‘By Kagyar’s Hammer! We made it! I thought that bloody jungle would be the end of me!’
Whitemane slid down a large rock and landed on the riverbank with both his feet in the cold water. In front of him was a shallow crossing and on the other side a village that they assumed had to be Punaauia. The rest of the tired company followed close on his heels.
It was late afternoon almost three days after the ambush. They had managed not to starve only thanks to Eveil’s astonishing ability to find food in the jungle but they were still fatigued from the long hike through the jungle.
When they came to the village and spoke to the chieftain, a man named Imoraquai, they learned that their two missing companions, Wulfgar and Petja, had indeed survived and had made their way to the village just hours before.
Ikaros, Whitemane, Thaminor and Eveil were invited in and treated to the full extend of Makai hospitality. Eveil smiled as Thaminor and Ikaros both walked off with a young woman under each arm to be bathed and fed. Whitemane had no such desires and just asked for hot water and bandages before he kempt his beard and then finally gave way to a ravenous hunger for ‘proper food’ – roast meats and beer.
Eveil talked to Imoraquai and learned that the village had never had any problems in the mines, nor had they sent a messenger to the Tribune asking for help. The whole things was apparently orchestrated to send them into the Iron Ring’s ambush…
Next time: Plotting their return
"It is almost two and a half year since this campaign began, and alas, I haven’t got the time to write as many episodes as I would like. In fact, it almost takes me longer to write the episodes than to play them.
In episode 23, where we are now, the characters were level 3-4. Currently, in November 2004, they are level 9-10 and I am afraid that I might forget a lot if the episodes we are playing now will not be written until 2006 or 2007.
Therefore, I have decided to summarize the episodes from 24 until where the characters are now, hoping that eventually I will get them done in a more thorough manner. For now, the summary will have to do as I am more interested in chronicling their current epic adventures than what has happened before.
The summary will be of what went on in the campaign from the summer of 1000 AC until the summer of 1001 AC. Just 12 months of game world time but almost two years of playing time.
After I am done writing the summary, I will begin new episodes with the figure 200. I have no idea if 177 episodes will be enough to later flesh out the gap, but I hope so. I will begin the new episodes with complete listing of the characters’ levels, stats and magical items so you may better get an understanding of how they have developed.
Sincerely,
Jesper Andersen
November 2004"
The party was given leather armours, bows and spears by the kind people of Punaauia and then went on their way back to Ierendi City. By the help of the little halfling rogue Myrmeen they managed to sneak back into the city unnoticed and were given sanctuary by the local thieves’ guild that also had a score to settle with the Iron Ring.
Over the next few days the learned that all members of the Iron Ring had fled the city back to Karameikos. The party managed to find out that it was not the tribune who had double-crossed them. His servant had been charmed by magic to deliver the false note at the inn.
The party visited Signor Luigi who gave them money for equipment and fresh clothes. In secret, Ikaros managed to purchase a dark and somewhat evil spellbook from the leader of the thieves’ guild in return for his pledge to serve her at some other time. He tried to pay for it with the broche given to him by Princess Clarissa (which the Iron Ring had somehow not confiscated) by the leader of the thieves’ guild, a mage named Hanni, would not touch it. She told him that it was a gift from the leader of the Minrothad Guilds on his last state visit and that its disappearance would probably cause a minor international incident. Ikaros put it away.
The day finally came when Ikaros met Lady Gherynid again and she introduced him to Zajimarn. In return for Palando’s staff Zajimarn demanded an Efreeti bottle which was in the possession of Yavi – the deranged high priest of the local Temple of the Eternal Truth. Stealing from him was not something the characters were eager to do, but they managed to come up with a plan. In return for filling a magical bag of holding with coins from the temple, the thieves’ guild arranged for the People’s Temple to have a festival on the night of one of Yavi’s sermons. The plan was to provoke a mass fist-fight in the streets between the followers of the two temples, thus clearing out the interior of Yavi’s temple during the break-in. It worked marvellously.
The characters stole lots of jewels and coin, a decanter of endless water, a flying carpet, a magical short sword, the Efreeti bottle and some diamonds. Immediately after the break-in they went to the thieves’ guild, delivered the magical sack with coins and headed to the harbour. Wulfgar had gotten them a ride onboard the longship Valkyrie captained by Helgi Hard-Sailor, (from the Mystara NPC catalogue) who was going back to Ostland. The party decided that it was best to travel to the other end of the Known World to escape Yavi’s wrath.
Before they sailed, however, Ikaros went to a park at midnight and gave Zajimarn the Efreeti bottle in return for Palando’s staff.
They sailed at dawn and headed towards Specularum first. There, they dropped off Ikaros, who decided to go ashore to meet Palando’s ghost and rid himself of further obligations (he hoped) and Whitemane who decided to return to Rockhome. They agreed that Ikaros would send word as soon as he could, so that they might perhaps meet up again later.
The rest of the party, Wulfgar, Petja, Eveil and Thaminor sailed on with Helgi; first to Thyatis city and then up the coast of Ylaruam towards Ostland. They came across an Alaysian wargalley, which attacked them, but Eveil and Petja managed to set the galley ablaze with fireballs and a Minor Orb of Blasting and won the day.
When they came to Ostland, they landed in Zeafort, where the Dragon, Wolf and Raven brigades of the Army of Ostland are posted. They were sheltered by a kinsman of Wulfgar, a fisherman named Strybjorn Eyjolfsson.
A string of murders were taking place in Zeafort at the time and a local hero named Røde Orm (Red Drake) was seen at the scene of one of the crimes. Wulfgar and his friends volunteered to help track Røde Orm and eventually found his hall, where his wife, children and servants had all been slain. They encountered Røde Orm at the farmstead but he fled and they followed him to a cave system.
Inside, they learned that they had not been fighting Røde Orm but an evil reflection created by a Mirror of Opposition. The reflection, and several others, was under the control of an evil godar of Loki named Snorri Smooth-Tongue (from the Mystara NPC Catalogue).
The party fought Snorri, killing his henchmen and acolytes, but Snorri managed to escape after a heroic battle in which a reflection of Wulfgar was produced by the mirror. The party smashed the mirror and Wulfgar took one of the shattered pieces that it may never be mended again. Wulfgar had killed the leader of Snorri’s henchmen, a berserker named Hengist Hasteinsson, and took his magical battleaxe called Rage of the Storm.
They freed Røde Orm, who had been held captive, as well as a Shield Maiden named Gunnhild Siglindesdottir and an unlucky skjald named Hjalti Bluetooth. Following their triumph against Snorri they returned to Zeafort and were rewarded by the high godar of Odin.
Im a player in Jespers group and have been for the last decade and then some.
We have been playing together since our (then) local library arranged a roleplaying event and lent out a room that we could play in every tuesday. That was in 1992 or 1993.
Today we play in this group that Jesper is writing about in this thread and have been for over a year now.
I enjoy having Jesper as a DM, he is very wellprepared, has unconventional ideas, is very poetic and has alot of experience as a DM. Recently we had a metagamemeeting about making more out of our roleplay, which was welcomed by all players. Jesper now sees himself more as a director than a DM, which I think is great and Im looking very much forward to it.
Im 25 and I am the youngest of the players in that group...
Hope you enjoy our adventures that Jesper shares with you all inhere!!! Indeed I did ;)
I am also a player in Jespers group, and Asken said all the nice thingies about Jesper, and I agree with that.
I have been playing with that group of people for about 13 years. They are all great roleplayers, and it has been as very good time, that hopefully continues for many many years.
And btw. I am the ol' guy of the group...I am 30.
Enjoy the reading as we blunder our way through Mystara :D
Dragontatto
Im intrigued and must ask: How old are you guys and how long have you played together? Since Mystara is an old RPG world I suspect you have been playing for many years?
Hi Christian!
Thank you for those nice comments (and thank you Asken and Dragontattoo as well :D )
We started playing at our local library in February 1990. (I remember it like it was yesterday - don't we all with our first game experience?
)We were several groups of players playing on different days of the week after school and some were novice while others had game experience. Gradually, a group of boys came together that has more or less stuck throughout the years. Some leave (and come back later) and others join (and leave later) but the core remains pretty much the same.
We have played a lof of different game systems: GURPS, Warhammer, Call of Cthulu, Middle Earth, Earth Dawn, Vampire, Werewolf, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (not my finest moment), Toon, Illuminati, Paladium, AD&D 2E, 0D&D and now, for the past 4 years, 3E D&D. (which is my personal favourite).
We sure did have some "immature" games to begin with. Asken's examples of trying to swallow a Staff of Healing because he ate a part of a zombie is one example. A party of all-evil characters (because then you could backstab a character if you had a grudge against a player!!
) is another example. When I was 14 or 15 I played a Neutral Evil Kendar with a fondness of using poisons! 
Anyway, we gradually matured (I hope) and now we put as much emphasis on the "theatrical mood" as on just having fun. If you can find a thread somewhere here in the forum called "best game ever" or something, read about how I made my players weep. To be able to stir such emotions - from time to time - in my players is the aim of my current campaign.
The players are between 25 and 30. I just turned 28.
:-) Jesper
In Zeafort the party was joined by a priest of Asterius named Alexander Ikbn (usually referred to as Alex) who had just arrived at the town by ship. On the 17th day of Ambyrmont they journeyed together towards the east coast of the island to Wulfgar’s home village of Vinterdal (“Winter Dale”).
On the way they met Leif the Long (from the Mystara NPC Catalogue) and he told them a cautionary tale of the Thyatian Odicius, who lived on the island of Sclara where he had a mansion and servants. Odicius went off to fight the wars of the Empire and did not return for seven years. He left behind many enemies on Sclara and thus, when the wars were over he returned to Sclara in disguise to avoid falling into an ambush. He soon found out that in his absence a man named Polifidon had taken over Odicius’ household and family. Odicius carefully laid a plan and then killed Polifidon and all of his guards in a single night at won back his family and fortune.
Wulfgar immediately made a connection; he had not been home in four years and did not know what awaited him. In 996 he had been with his fellow clansmen on a raid in Ylaruam but when they were getting back onboard their ships they had been assaulted by Ylari cavalry on the beach. Wulfgar fought the desert men when one of his own had stabbed him in the back!
He had lost consciousness and later awoke in prison to the life of a slave. It took him two years to earn his freedom, after which he had spent another two years adventuring in the Known World. Now, he was finally returning – a changed man – not knowing what hidden foes awaited him or thought him long dead.
Wulfgar and the others decided to travel south to the farm of Leif, the middle one of his older brothers. On their way there they met Einer – Wulfgar’s cousin – who had disturbing news…
(to be continued)
Einer told Wulfgar and his friends the following:
His father had died of the Brown Plague in 997 AC, his little sister Ursula had been kidnapped by Soderfjord raiders and his brother Ogir had disappeared looking for her, his oldest brother Thorgal now lived on the Isle of Dawn with his family and his last brother, Leif, was now a bitter cripple living on a farm ten miles south of Winter Dale. As a result, Wulfgar's cousins and their father, his uncle Heindal, had taken over the great hall of Wulfgar's father and it was doubtful they would be pleased at his return...
Somewhat shocked, Wulfgar thanked Einer and proceeded to Leif's farm. Leif had been crippled during a raid in Heldann and was now a bitter alcoholic and a lousy farmer. Leif’s wife and children were all but starving and winter was coming. He could hardly believe that Wulfgar was alive and became angry when Wulfgar attempted to help him. He did not need a younger brother’s pity, he said. Instead, Wulfgar gave some money to Leif’s wife Inger so that they could buy some animals and hire some help to survive the winter.
Leif informed Wulfgar that thanks to the godar of Odin insisting on substantial sacrifices to Odin – livestock and gold – be thrown in the bog north of Winter Dale to prevent more plague and hardship many people in Aland were now near starvation. And to make matters worse, Arni Vermundson, the hight godi of Odin, was beginning to talk of human sacrifices to please the Immortals…
A few days later the party journeyed to Winter Dale. Wulfgar had paid close attention to the tale of Leif the Long about Odicius and put on a disguise. They came to his father’s longhouse and found Wulfgar’s uncle, Heindal, and his three sons Remthar, Erik and Jorhal and some of Erik’s berserker friends having a party inside.
They introduced themselves as friends of Wulfgar, one of the sons of Bjorn, the master of the hall, and after many angry looks of suspicion and a challenge to a fistfight they were allowed to sit at the table and eat and drink. Heindal and his sons were very interested in the rumour that Wulfgar might be alive and the party told various stories about having met him in Ierendi and Ylaruam.
The next day Wulfgar left the village, took off the disguise and returned as himself. This caused quite a commotion as everyone who had thought he was dead were quite surprised to see him alive. The situation at the great hall was quite tense, as Heindal and his sons were very anxious to find out if Wulfgar would claim his birthright or not. To begin with, Wulfgar played disinterested and told Heindal that it would be better if he continued to rule the hall – for now – until Wulfgar felt more at home and had visited old friends, talked to his mother etc. And so, the situation at Bjorn’s hall remained tense and uneasy but no violent.
Wulfgar soon found out that in order to protect his youngest brother Njal, his mother had taken Heindal to bed several times, a fact that caused him to rage and it took all of his friends to stop him from challenging Heindal, his cousins and his cousins’ friends all at once. When he calmed down, he also found out that Heindal had sold off his father’s shipyard and either squandered away the money or hid them somewhere. The family fortune, for all apparent, was lost.
One longship, the North Wind, remained but was reduced to rotten timbers and would required a lot of care before it would ever set sail again. Wulfgar decided to repair it while he waited for Heindal and the cousins to make a move that would reveal the traitorous nature and his friends helped. On a daily basis they were all witnesses to the berserkers abusing thralls, even raping some of them, and drinking and partying for what was rightly Wulfgar’s inheritance. And still, he held his rage back and waited.
Wulfgar went to see what friends remained in the village and found three old comrades: Arendal, Norleif and Aslak. Against them were his uncle Heindal and Wulgar’s three cousins Remthar, Erik and Jorhal. Erik commanded a band of thugs which included the vain warrior Narmrun, the berserker Thor, the brothers Merleif and Leif, the clanless outlaw Holger – a quiet desperado – and the wannabe fighter Sven. A motley crew but a dangerous one. On top of all that Remthar was second-in-command to Arni Vermundson, the high godi of the local cult of Odin and Wulfgar’s other cousin, Sven, Einer’s older brother, was so beguiled by Remthar that he followed his orders without question. Wulfgar would have to proceed with caution if he was to avoid a slaughter in his own mother’s house in which he killed nearly half of his living relatives…
Wulfgar also went to see Mara, a girl whom he had had affections for before he went to Ylaruam four years before. Mara’s parents, Nim and Berta, and her siblings Draken, Asbjorn and Yrsa, had always loved Wulfgar as a member of their own family. Now, however, the situation had changed. Draken had gone to the Isle of Dawn with Wulfgar’s older brother Thorgal four years before. Nim had fallen into debt with Heindal and when he could no repay him, had been forced to promise Mara’s hand in marriage to Heindal’s son Jorhal – Wulfgar’s cousin.
Asbjorn was afraid Wulfgar’s return would jeopardise that future marriage and warned Wulfgar not to come calling on Mara. If he did, swords would be drawn. At another occasion, Petja learned that Wulfgar’s brutish cousin Erik – the leader of the thuggish berserkers – had taken a liking to Mara’s little sister Yrsa, who was still only 14 years old. The Traladaran rogue decided that most of the berserkers deserved nothing better than a rapier in the gut.
Days became weeks while Wulfgar and his friends awaited timber to repair the North Wind and cautiously tried to coax the uncle and cousins into making a bad move. Nothing happened even though insults became more frequent. At one point Thor challenged Alex to a Holmgang and though he nearly died, Alex managed to slay Thor – much to the dismay of Heindal and his sons. Petja took up intensive weapons training with a gorgeous local shield maiden named Brynhild Austadottir and fell a little in love with her.
(to be continued…)
finally got the time to buy the 3.5 rules and i've started gathering a group to play in Mystara. Can't wait to get things going, too bad that people my age (29) are busy with real life ;)
Im dying for the next installment! =)
finally got the time to buy the 3.5 rules and i've started gathering a group to play in Mystara. Can't wait to get things going, too bad that people my age (29) are busy with real life ;)
Yeah, I know exactely how you feel :D
My thesis was supposed to have been handed in in November and now it looks like the end of March instead...
I'll try and finish the summary soon and bring you all up to speed on our campaign. Thanks for hanging around and encouraging me!
:-) Jesper
One day Wulfgar and his friends went to the woods on the yearly hunt organized by Erica the Crow, who ruled Aland in her husband’s absence. During the hunt Eveil, Wulfgar and Petja were ambushed by a dire boar – a creature not native to those parts. After a mighty battle the party killed it and Wulfgar claimed its tusks. That night they talked around the fire about where such a hellish creature might have come from but neither talk nor sleep provided them with answers.
Days and weeks went by and the day finally came when the party went to the woodcutter’s cabin to collect the wood to repair the North Wind. On the way they encountered the woodcutter’s daughter, who wore a crown of beautiful flowers. When Eveil asked where she had got the flowers from, the girl revealed that she collected them from the top of the steep cliff north of the swamp. It used to be her secret place, she said, but for the past months a man had started visiting the cliffs as well. She didn’t know who he was but she had seen him collect flowers and plants that her mother had warned her not to touch – because of their poisonous nature!
The party agreed that whoever was collecting for poisons could not be on the side of good and decided to lay an ambush near the cliff.
When they returned to the village, they were told that the high godi of Odin had ordered the sacrifice of a thrall to see the village safely though the winter and that Remthar, Wulfgar’s cousin, had offered up one of Wulfgar’s thralls!!
The party managed to intervene and quite calmly told the high godi and Remthar that Odin would receive another human sacrifice if they ever tried to steal Wulfgar’s property again! This did not exactly ease the tension in Wulfgar’s household.
A few nights later, while Wulfgar and Eveil were on a stakeout at the cliff, a man appeared. In the moonless night they recognized him as Jorhal – the youngest cousin of Wulfgar. They concluded that it was Jorhal who was steadily poisoning Grandfather Njal, making it look like old age had gotten the better of him.
They confronted Jorhal, who drew a magical knife and wounded Eveil. She was life-drained by the horrible blade and reacted by casting a spell of fear that drove the terrified Jorhal to hurl himself from the cliff.
The searched the body below and confiscated the evil looking knife. Then they left Jorhal dead at the foot of the cliff and returned to the village.
Campaign summary, episodes 24-199, continued
The next day everybody was talking about Jorhal going missing. Wulfgar and his friends kept quiet although one of Erik’s berserkers accused them of being involved. Alex mentioned overhearing that Jorhal had been seen by the cliff and that he might be found there.
When a search party came back from the cliffs the next day with Jorhal’s body tensions rose even higher and during a banquet in Jorhal’s honour Petja tricked everyone into believing that he was very drunk. He taunted the berserkers and when Narmrum took the bait Petja quickly rose to his feet, drew his rapier, parried the berserker’s blow and struck him through the neck!
In the next days and weeks Wulfgar repaired the North Wind. Grandfather Njal recovered from having been poisoned by Jorhal and with Njal restored to sanity Wulfgar decided to reclaim his father’s hall. He quite plainly told Heindal to hand over the remains of the profit from the sale of his father’s shipyard and move back into his own cottage with his sons and cronies.
Heindal scowled but knew that Wulfgar had the law on his side so he obeyed. He handed over some 8.000 pieces of silver and although Wulfgar knew there aught to be more he did not press the matter. Killing more relatives did not appeal to him. He was more concerned with raising a fleet and rescuing his brother and sister from the Oberbeck clan of Soderfjord.
Thus it was that in the late autumn of 1000 AC he travelled to Zeaburg with his friends to petition King Hord for ships to help him raid the Oberbecks in the spring. On the way to Zeaburg they once again met the skjald Leif the Long, who once again told them a story.
This time Leif told them of a warrior named Berim, who lived in Ostland at a time when two jarls competed for the throne. Walking through the woods, Berim was ambushed and captured by a band of berserkers. They demanded to know to which lord Berim held allegiance and he could not tell, which jarl they served. Thus, he answered: “I am the King’s man!” The dumb berserkers took that as meaning that he served their lord and released him. Thus Berim escaped with his life.
A few days later Wulfgar and his friends reached Zeaburg. They visited the winter hall of the Varmgaard clan and managed to arrange a brief visit to the royal hall a few days later in the company of the clan representative at court.
When they finally visited the court they were benched at the far end next to the latrines, a place reserved for lowly visitors and those out-of-favour with the king. They quickly learned that the king liked to promote rivalry between his own Personal Guard, the berserkers of Thor called the Raven Guard and the elite warriors known as the King’s Brothers.
During the banquet a messenger arrived with disastrous news from the colonies. Apparently, all contact had been lost with Ytre Ytresbo, the outermost village, and reports of giants and undead were numerous. The king called out to the assembled warriors what to do and several members of the Raven Guard laughed and mentioned that it was typical that the Varmgaard clan could not fight for themselves.
At that Wulfgar rose from his seat at spoke. He announced that he, Wulfgar Bjornson of the Varmgaard clan, would travel to the colonies and stop this menace and that any member of the Raven Guard or King’s Brothers who were just as brave could prove so right away by announcing that they would join him!
For a few seconds everyone was dead quiet in the king’s hall…
(To be continued…)
Campaign summary, episodes 24-199, continued
For a moment, the Raven Guard was stunned. Then several members drew swords and axes, intent on cleaving this upstart that had dared question their personal bravery. The harsh laughter of the king stopped them dead in their tracks. King Hord rose from his throne and announced that Wulfgar would indeed go to the colonies aboard one of his ships and that he was eager to see who were brave enough to join the lad.
A few of the King’s Brothers and three Raven Guard members as well as four jarls’ sons volunteered. The king ordered a detachment of his personal guard to go along as well but deliberately failed to specify who was in command.
A few days later the ship set sail for the colonies on the Isle of Dawn…
When they reached the shores they sailed upriver as far as the longship would take them and then continued on foot. Not two days later the troop was ambushed at night by terrible zombies and five two-headed giants! The fight was brutal and chaotic. It turned out that everyone wounded by a zombie turned into a zombie himself in a matter of minutes. Thus, after ten minutes all of the zombies and giants were dead thanks to the party’s magic and battle prowess but so were most of the troops. A jarl’s son was dead as were several of the Raven Guard members and King’s Brothers.
It was decided that the only unwounded Raven Guard, a great and fearsome warrior named Finnbogi, should accompany the party to Ytre Ytresbo while the rest returned to the ship and waited.
After a fews days march they reached what was left of the village. From a handful of survivors they learned that not only was the village beset by giants and zombies whose ranks were made up of former villagers. A dragon also terrorized them day and night. It had a sonic breath that made houses and barns explode violently without fire or lightning.
The party quickly learned that the beast was blind and used a power similar to a bat’s to navigate. Apparently, it was attracted to noise and so they devised a plan involving Eveil’s Ghost Sound spell and a lot of spikes that the beast could impale itself on when it tried to snatch its noisy prey.
Unfortunately, the plan did not quite go as planned. The dragon killed Finnbogi when he challenged it to single combat. Then it snatched Wulfgar, who continued to hack at its belly with his magical axe and took off with him. Petja and Ikaros took up pursuit on the magical flying carpet that Petja had stolen from Yavi in Ierendi several months before.
Eventually Wulfgar had wounded the dragon so badly it decided to drop him and fortunately, through some crazy manoeuvring, Petja and Ikaros managed to catch him in mid-air before he fell to his death and land the carpet before they crashed. It was only intended for two persons.
Then Petja and Ikaros took up pursuit again and closed in on the escaping wounded dragon. A few well-aimed blasts from Ikaros’ Wand of Lightning sent it smoking to the ground. The two adventurers landed and cut off the mysterious horn on the dragon’s forehead – the source of its sonic breath weapon. Then they returned to Ytre Ytresbo.
Campaign summary, episodes 24-199, continued
At Ytre Ytresbo everything was chaos. The latest assault by the dragon had caused much structural damage but everyone was happy that it was now finally dead. The next day a watchman spotted a large group of zombies approaching from the east and raised the alarm. The party, now fully healed and rested, took flight via spells and the carpet and then smote the zombies in the fields.
Eveil managed to track them back towards the mountains and there the party discovered a cave with three Alphatian sorcerers in it. Apparently, they had been behind the attacks. The party slew two of them before the third teleported away. Off one of them Ikaros took an unholy medallion in the likeness of Thanatos. Although the item promised much power he dared not use it. The two dead sorcerers also had a Cloak of Protection from Lightning which befell Eveil and a Ring of Acid Resistance, which Ikaros also claimed for himself. With nothing left to investigate the party returned to the village and from there via the ship to Zeaburg.
GW