Evaliir Hall

The Evaliir Hall Estate perched on a small rise surrounded by row upon row of grape vines drenched in the golden afternoon sun of Leafsturn. The main house of the Estate had been erected some two hundred years past during the recovery of war-torn Eystlund. Visitors were often awestruck upon their arrival to this home which had been constructed to meet the needs of a knight. While many a knight and lesser lord might construct a practical, defensible building to house their family and retainers, a tower home perhaps, Evaliir Hall was as far in the opposite direction as could be. The exterior was draped in a brilliant green granite trimmed in polished white marble. Intricate carvings and detail adorned every surface, including the slate roof over the third story where all manner of fanciful gargoyles perched at the eves. Meticulously groomed pathways meandered through the grounds making stops at statues, fountains, and private gardens as well as the hand-full of auxiliary buildings nestled into the property.

Being a southern kingdom, Eystlund never really had cold, winter weather but, the end of the year did bring about cooler temperatures and an extended harvest period. Throughout Wolfmoon and Leafsturn Evaliir Hall would be bursting with servants. The great hall could sit nearly a hundred people and would double as sleeping quarters during these autumn months while the army of workers descended upon the grape vines, picking them clean of fruit and storing it in the winery cellars. The climate was ideal for this purpose, plenty of rain and sun with mild temperatures. The vineyard was nearly as old as the home which watched over it from the hill and had been planted with a clear purpose. The current stewards of the land held to the original plan and, in turn, continued to profit as had their ancestors before.

This business of picking grapes and transporting them in baskets and carts back to the cellar was tiresome and boring work though when a person was only ten years old. This was why young Aaliyah and her seasonal friends had slipped off to the north of the property, opposite the vineyard, and into the small grove of peach trees which sometimes supplemented the wine production. The four children had been in the orchard for much of the day, thinking themselves quite clever at having eluded the work taking place on the other side of the property. It was well past midday when they began running out of games to play and boredom set in. Of the four, Aaliyah was the only girl; a willowy thing with sharp facial features and striking green eyes topped with waves of hair shining like beaten copper. Two of the boys were brothers, Chett a scrawny lad of an age with Aaliyah and Robin who was about to reach his thirteenth name day. Both shared dark, unkempt hair and eyes like coal with bronze skin ripened by a lifetime out in the sun. The last of their band was Warren, who was also the girl’s age. His straw blonde hair hung near his shoulders and blue eyes seemed to drink in his environment, he was a bit more quiet and inquisitive than the other two but, no more high born. The boys were all sons to field hands and would likely take on the work of their parents in time. This did not faze Aaliyah though, she generally had no one to play with so, having interaction with anybody outside of the house staff and her aging hound was sheer enjoyment for the lass. Eventually the boys found some fallen branches. As would happen with boys, they began hacking at one-another, playing at knights. Never one to be left out, Aaliyah found her own “sword” and happily jumped into the melee.

As the game wore on, the children darted from tree to tree, waving their imagined steel at one-another until they happened upon a much more secluded area on the grounds. To the far north west edge of the property, the small peach grove opened out to an untamed glade overlooking the wild bosk known to Aaliyah as Twilight Dell though, her father once told her it had another name long ago. The glade and small forest of Aspens and Fir drifted lazily down hill from the high ground of the estate yet, hard against the edge of the orchard, a terraced garden was cut into earth. Broad steps led down past two tiers of long abandoned flower beds which were now home to creeping vines and twisted, wild brambles, to an oval of large flagstones. Up against the hill perched several large marble columns which had likely supported the roof of a pavilion once. Now the weather worn stone was home to a great mass of deep purple morning glory's, swaying gently in the breeze and drinking up the afternoon sunlight. Flanking the columns stood several statues in various poses. A woman sitting in a chair examined something in her hand with a strange device to her eye, another character, short and broad with a long braid down her back held a mug aloft in toast, a dangerous looking wolf sat silently, surveying the overgrown pavers. It was a strange grouping; others included a skinny old man in what appeared to be his nightclothes, a fierce looking man with a thick beard and long braided hair brandished a heavy axe, a well armed warrior in hard worn traveling clothes took aim with a long bow and, possibly the most impressive, a monstrous man in heavy plate armor leaning on the hilt of a two-handed sword. Rounding out the group, a statue of a woman was placed on the far side of the small plaza, lounging on a bench as if eating grapes and admiring the western sky while ivy crept thick around the legs of the bench making her seem adrift in a sea of green leaves.

Aaliyah had visited this area on only a few occasions when she felt especially adventurous. It was an old place that seemed to hold a bit of sadness and she lingered a few steps up from the terrace. The other children did not hold her same misgivings though, scurrying down the weed choked steps to the open landing below. The girl followed hesitantly, if only to keep the boys from causing trouble. She had never been forbidden to explore any part of the estate but, something in the pit of her stomach told her this was a special place that should be honored and protected. The boys ran around, weaving through the columns and exploring the statues, eventually stopping before the giant in plate armor.

“I wonder who that was.” Chett commented, awe clear in his voice as he craned his neck to look up at the marble giant looming over him.

“I bet he was some great knight if they made a statue of him.” Warren chimed in, brushing his straw colored hair out of his eyes for a better look.

“He sure was an ugly knight if that’s what he were.” Robin concluded. “I bet he never could save a fair maid; she would just run away!”

Mean spirited or no, Aaliyah could not argue the truth of the statement. The man was hulking, standing at least 20 hands tall or more, and wore no helmet, exposing his broad brow, flat nose and over-large chin complete with lower cuspids protruding over his top lip. Deep-set, brooding eyes gazed out over the forest beyond.

“He could sure skin you easy as can be!” Chided Chett, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Not me.” Robin, the oldest rebuked. “I’m the Black Bull!” he declared pulling himself up as tall as he could and puffing out his chest. “I’ll best all challengers!”

Not to be left out, Chett jumped in brandishing his stick-sword. “Oh yea, you cannot stand against Sir Josef, The Splinter-Shield!”

Warren swung his stick with a flourish and smiled slyly as he dubbed himself. “I am The Nightwalker! Stand aside you tourney knights!”

The other boys hooted in mirth at the choice. “The Nightwalker?” Robin snorted. “He’s just a legend! That don’t count.”

Dutifully, Chett added to his brothers’ comments. “What would The Nightwalker do to a pair o’ knights in plate anyway? Would he shoot them with his tiny elf-bow or drink ‘imself into the gutter as they charged ‘im?” Chett snickered at his jab and Robin laughed outright.

The blond boy looked a bit crestfallen standing there dumbly, unsure what to say to that. Aaliyah felt anger boiling up inside of her. The day was going so well and now these petty boys had to go and ruin it all. Beside that, the brothers were wrong, she knew in her bones they were wrong. She had heard many stories told of The Nightwalker as he was known to many, a roguish elf who had lived many hundreds of years past. A tourney knight he had never been but he had been a knight of Eystlund and a deadly one at that. No longer able to hold her rising anger, the copper haired girl gathered herself up on the steps and opened her mouth to shout down the ignorant brothers.

A voice cracked like a whip above the children’s heads and it was not Aaliyah’s. “What’s this now?! What are you children doing here?”

Aaliyah knew the voice at once and knew the hard edged tone. She turned slowly yet, needn’t look to know that her mother stood upon the hill above them. Despite her plain dress and the grape-stained apron she wore, the woman standing above the children held a regal air and had an exotic look. Long copper hair that matched Aaliyah’s flowed down her back in many braids, but her green eyes were more almond shaped and her ears had an unusual chiseled form. For a woman of middle age she barely wore a hint of wrinkles. She stood there a moment with her hands planted on her hips, expectant.

Aaliyah was searching for a proper response when Robin found some courage and half turned to the matron of the estate hiding his stick behind him in the process, he confessed. “We was just playing m’lady. We weren’t looking for no trouble.”

“I see this. Unfortunately, you all had responsibilities today did you not?” Aaliyah’s mother’s gaze fell upon her, seeming to bore into her soul. The four of them wilted beneath the scrutiny, wondering what type of punishment might befall them. “it seems to me that the lot of you need to be taught some lessons. We shall get to that just as soon as supper is over. Now, drop those sticks and come along. It is time to get cleaned up.” With that, her mother turned and strode away. The children exchanged glances, wondering what these ‘lessons’ might entail before abandoning their pretend steel and scampering up the steps leading back to the manor.

The evening meal consisted of a thick venison stew served with bread fresh from the ovens. The great hall was a raucous scene of seasonal workers at long tables, laughing and socializing as they took their evening meal. This was the time for much needed relaxation for the common folk and the mood in the room reflected the melting away of the day’s stress. Within the kitchen, the Steele family took their meal, quietly removed from commotion of the great hall. In truth this was not uncommon, the hall had been designed for grand and elaborate dinner parties but, the sheer size of it made casual dining an uncomfortable affair. Unless an event was being held or, the workers were in attendance, the family at Evaliir Hall took their meals with the cook and their small staff within the cozy warmth of the kitchen.

This evening, they took three guests to their table making the accommodations even more snug than usual. Robin, Chett, and Warren sat quietly, eyes intent on their stew while Aaliyah’s mother and father chatted idly regarding the autumn harvest and the expected yield this season. Aaliyah sat anxiously, nibbling at the bread and occasionally stirring the stew, her stomach in too much upheaval to be hungry. Occasionally she would steal a glance at one of the boys who only seemed to have questioning looks in their eyes. She had no answers so, she went back to picking at her meal which now was cold. After a what seemed an eternity, the table was cleared and, the moment Aaliyah had dreaded was upon them. She just knew that her father was about to dole out their ‘lesson’. He was a tall man and strongly built with a disciplined demeanor. Mother said he had once been a squire before they married and he took up tending grapes instead. It was always father who enforced the rules so, it was quite a surprise when he stood and took his leave of them. The maid, the cook, and the steward also found they had other tasks awaiting them and took their leave as well leaving just the four children and her mother sitting at the table.

“Well, it seems you four didn’t have much of an appetite this evening. I would have expected you to be ravenous after your adventures.” Her mother said matter of factually, giving no hint on what might lie ahead.

Aaliyah felt obligated to defend them somehow and tried to put conviction in her voice though, it quavered regardless. “I think we are all just too tired to eat mother, it has been a long day.”

The others seemed happy for this and nodded their agreement, no doubt hoping for a quick end to this so they could scurry off to their own parents.

“I agree.” Said Lady Steele. “Let us get on with your lesson so you can all be rested and ready for morning.” She stood and gestured to the servant’s door leading out of the kitchen. “I believe my daughter knows the way out to the gallery. Lead on Aaliyah my dear.”

The gallery? The girl thought. What could be waiting in the gallery? Her mind racing, Aaliyah rose from her seat and skirted around her mother hesitantly, making her way for the door with leaden feet. The boys all rose slowly and followed, worry stamped plain on their faces.

The gallery wrapped around three sides of a large courtyard nestled in the center of the building. The fourth side of the courtyard adjoined the great hall. When the boys came into the first of the long corridors their breath caught. Paintings, sculptures, and tapestries lined the walls while intricately woven rugs with strange runes imprinted on them covered the polished marble floors. Crystalline sconces held tall candles to light the gallery. Aaliyah felt her chest swell at the boy’s reaction, she knew that her family's collection was a source of pride to her parents.

Her mother came in hard on their heels. “Around the corner please, take us down to the family portraits.”

The family portraits? This punishment was becoming more bizarre by the moment. The boys gave her questioning looks but, she could only shrug and lead them down the corridor obediently. The courtyard was a large rectangle and the family portraits hung at the center of the long corridor directly across from the great hall. Aaliyah’s mother had told her this was so that their family could always have a prominent view of the festivities here which, often spilled out into the courtyard. Dozens of large portraits hung from the gallery wall in heavy, ornate frames, staring across the room and out the courtyard windows at the birds and butterflies flitting about the manicured gardens in the late afternoon glow.

Lady Addison stepped before the paintings of herself and her husband, Nicholas Steele. Holding a cool expression, the lady of the house wasted no time in delivering the lesson. “You four managed to shirk your responsibility today and ventured into a very special place on the property. You have no doubt been wondering what these ‘lessons’ are and what torment it will bring you.” A slight smile touched her lips as she paused for effect. “This is good although, I am sure it is not going to be as you suspect.”

Lady Steele strode slowly up and down the line of paintings, studying them quietly as the children stood fidgeting in uncomfortable silence. She stopped abruptly in front of her daughter. “This lesson is for you three boys, that you might better understand some of the facts from history but, Aalyiah, this is also a long overdue lesson for you as well. Your father and I have failed to teach you your family’s place in the world.” Then the lesson began in earnest. “We bear the name Steele and we are descendant from Sir Dain Steele, who served honorably with The Duke of Blackfields in his many military campaigns.” Addison gestured gracefully to the painting of a lively looking man in plate armor standing next to a courser and leaning on a lance tipped with a fluttering banner. A great helm rested at his feet and flinty grey eyes watched them above a drooping black mustache and smartly trimmed beard. “Sir Dain was Aalyiah’s great, great, grandfather on her father’s side and was a magnificent knight in his own right.”

The boys jaws were agape and Aalyiah felt a bit taken aback, she had known some of their lineage on her father’s side but, never understood how close they might have been to the future King of Eystlund. Knowing that she now had the children’s full attention, Addison continued, moving a few paces down the gallery. “There is little question of the ability of the Steele line and, nobody can doubt their loyalty and service to this kingdom. Many of the faces upon this wall were strong and valiant knights in service to the King.” With a nod of her copper haired head, she indicated the next portrait. “Do you know this picture Aalyiah?”

The girl peered long and hard at the woman in the painting. Her skin was like porcelain, framed in thick black curls. The most perfect smile touched her lips and sky blue eyes twinkled with life. In the painting, the woman was spinning a pirouette, her long gown swirling about her bare feet. The scene had taken place on an oval shaped terrace overlooking a small valley.

She was still turning the puzzle over in her mind when Warren interrupted her thought. “It’s the garden we were in!”

“Ahh, very astute young man.” Addison nodded in agreement. “But, who is she?”

After a long silence with no answer, Lady Steele turned to her daughter. “This is your grandmother, my own mother, Ellora Beckett. She was the youngest grand daughter of Baron Rowan Beckett.”

“We never knew you was royalty m’lady.” Robin bowed his head seeming unsure if he should fall to his knees or remain standing. Chett and Warren exchanged glances and began to bow also.

“Boys, stop.” Addison’s smirk was unarming. “We are no more royal than you are. Our family as it stands is far outside of the lordships and knighthoods who make up the great houses of Eystlund.” The young men straightened in embarrassment, Robin was turning scarlet and looking desperately for an escape.

Lady Steele obliged him. “This is not to brag, and I am not attempting to make fools of anyone. You shall soon see my point I think.” Addison took two large steps backward revealing the next portrait in line. “This is why you were brought here.” Her tone was solemn and her voice was low.

The four children gazed upon the portrait in the frame. Though none of them had ever seen one, they all knew immediately that they were looking upon an elf, for only an elf could have such delicate features, such sharp eyes and high cheek bones, the pointed ears poking out through long hair the color of a newly minted penny. The elf posed in profile with a tall goblet in hand, his smile was easy and sincere and emerald eyes twinkled with mischief. Aalyiah had been in the gallery dozens of times, had looked at all of these paintings and yet, she felt as if she were looking at this one for the first time. A small plaque fastened to the bottom edge of the frame read: Sir Ademar Helyanwë. She had never considered who all of these faces were and how they related to her family history. Suddenly, she had a great urge to know more.

“Mother, who was this man?”

“You mean, who is this man? My dear, this is my father, your grandfather, Sir Ademar Helyanwë.” Lady Steele stood silently for a moment allowing the children to process what she had said.

“Helyanwë- That name sounds familiar but, I don’t remember mother. Your father was a knight; an elf-” Aalyiah was just beginning to put together the pieces of this puzzle and she had many and more questions.

“Is a knight, and one of some renown. I want to show you something. All of you, follow me.”

Aalyiah glanced about at her companions who all seemed as surprised as her before turning to hurry after her mother as her long strides carried her quickly out of the gallery. In a few moments, the small group emerged from the north side of the building on a small stoop in the lengthening shadows of the fading afternoon sunlight.

“Quickly now.” Her mother bade them as she set off across the lawn toward the peach grove. Another uncomfortable look was shared by the children before they resumed their march.

Descending the old, stone stairs to the secluded plaza again, Aalyiah’s breath caught. The space was ablaze in golden light as the sun hung low in the west. The marble statues glowed orange and gold as if from some divine power. The morning glories draping the ancient columns of the pavilion were closing up for the evening and crickets chirped deep in the brambles. Down in Twilight Dell, birds were circling and settling in to roost for the night, frogs croaked, and the night animals began to stir on the forest floor. It was a strange paradox where part of the world seemed to be settling in for the night while the garden they stood within was bathed in the most amazing, warm light, the last rays of the day. It was a magical sensation. Stealing a glance at her companions, she realized that the feeling was universal, they were all standing still, drinking in the experience.

“This plaza was built by your grandfather Aalyiah.” Addison’s voice was soft, a whisper on the evening breeze. “He came here often in the evening to remember and reflect. This was his sanctuary, where he could remember the past and honor those who were lost.”

The girl was beginning to understand the sense of sadness about this place, starting to understand what the statues might be.

“Those pillars used to hold up a roof under which your grandfather would sit and pray quietly to Sanastarus while sharing a drink with his old friends.”

“Begging your pardon m’lady but, your father kept some strange company.” Robin looked almost as surprised by his comment as everyone else. His hand snapped over his mouth as if that might prevent any more foolish words from spilling out.

Addison’s eyes spoke of mischief when she favored them with a smile. “Why yes, young man, my father did have rather, unusual companions. Of course, three laborers sons running about with a high born girl is also a bit strange. That is the essence of this lesson today. Think on your comments earlier. You thought that The Nightwalker was a legend, a fabrication, or perhaps real but, weak and craven. I will teach you some history today.”

She waved to the statues before them. “These were Sir Ademar’s companions through his youth. Those who befriended him, fought with him, often even died next to him. For a time, he abandoned his family name for reasons even I do not know, and used an alias: Nightwalker.” Lady Steele paused a moment to revel in the reaction of the four children. Robin, the oldest, was changing increasingly brighter shades of red, scanning the ground for a rock to hide beneath. His brother, Chett was abashed, his mouth working a silent apology for his earlier actions. Warren, the young boy who had brought up ‘The Nightwalker’ initially, stood a little taller, smiling at the obvious discomfort of his peers. Her daughter’s reaction was the greatest of them all. Addison watched as the pieces finally fell into place in Aalyiah’s mind and the realization of her grandfather’s true identity became clear. An expression of awe was stamped on her face but her green eyes burned with excitement and questions.

“There are many and more things I could tell you about my father. We could sit here in this garden for days and days and, I would still not have told you all there is to tell.” Lady Steele said. “I will give you the condensed version.”

And so she did, telling the children of how her father had adventured in the frozen lands of Eldridge before traveling all the way across the world to help King Darius I in war and, being knighted for it in the process. How he continued to serve Eystlund for a while before deciding to set off on a quest for an artifact, a sword the elves of Kemmermere called Est’ Peroleth, deep in the swamps of the Dodanna Freelands. She told them of how her father put his quest aside and built the estate that their family now looked after, naming it Evaliir Hall or, The Hall of Twilight Song as it translated from elvish. She even told the sad tale of how her mother, a human woman, had passed away of old age while Sir Ademar remained young. Heartbroken, the garden they stood in was built so he could reminisce the past.

Unable to contain her questions any longer, Aalyiah broke into her mother’s tale. “If grandfather is still alive, where is he now?”

A somber smile came to her mother’s face. “Why he’s out adventuring again. Your grandfather is not one to stay in place long. He traveled back to Eldridge.”

Aalyiah scrunched up her face in confusion. “Why would he want to go there?”

“Sometimes that which we believe will bring us the greatest happiness fails to deliver on that promise. And, sometimes a place calls to us in an unexpected way. There are times when a distraction is needed to help us through life and other times when we need to revisit our past to truly make us feel whole again. I think, he is trying to make himself whole again. He will return some day and you will meet him. Perhaps your new friends will even be able to make his acquaintance.”

The children were all smiling then, at the prospect of meeting someone whom they had thought was a myth just this morning.

“Now,” Addison broke in as the rim of the sun disappeared behind the trees. “I hope you have all learned the pitfalls of believing every tale and story you might hear.” She was standing near the bench and the statue of her mother, Ellora, as she regarded the boys and her daughter. They were bobbing their heads in agreement. “Good.” She said, pointing to the far side of the terrace. “Tomorrow, after you have had your morning meal, you will return to this place and begin restoring it to it’s former state.” At the edge of the flagstone oval sat a wheelbarrow full of gardening tools. Several groans arose from her young workers. “That is your punishment for evading your real duties today. I expect that by the week’s end, this garden will be presentable for Sir Ademar on his return. Now, it is time we return to the hall, you don’t want to be stumbling back in the dark.” With that she turned and left.

The boys followed quickly behind but Aalyiah remained. Walking to the stone bench, she gazed at the image of her grandmother wrought in fine white marble. Down at the edge of the bosk fireflies blinked in and out of sight and frogs croaked in the gathering darkness. The first of the evening stars were just visible in the deepening blue sky where a half moon hung low in the scattered clouds. A dragonfly flashed into view and perched on the outstretched hand of Ellora Beckett’s statue. There it sat, flexing it’s silvery wings, seemingly watching the girl as she stared back at it. For an instant she felt some sort of connection to the insect. For just a moment, she could almost hear it’s thoughts. Just as quickly though, the feeling was gone and so too was the dragonfly. With much to think about, the girl turned slowly from the garden and began her return to the house. It would be a long day tomorrow, she was going to need her rest and, with some luck, she could sneak a snack out of the kitchen before everyone was settled in for the night...

Blind Seer

Razell Silverfire was not an overly superstitious nor religious individual but, he was becoming desperate for answers and it was showing. Seated at a discarded mead keg which served as a table for the blind old "seer", Razell hesitantly extended his hand across the table to the man.  

I must be a loon, he thought to himself, looking for answers from this wine-soaked human. What could he possibly know? I wonder if Derek put him up to this; how else would he have known of my name? His group had been pushing through narrow, crowded streets when the old man had suddenly raised his head and called out "Razell! My lord!" those milky dead eyes looking right at him. Razell had tried to walk on and ignore the beggar, believing him to be just that, but he continued to cry out and attract attention, attention he and his companions could ill afford. When he cut through the press of humanus intent on throttling the man he was met again with those blank, pupil-less eyes which locked on his own silver irises seeming to see him clearly despite the contrary appearance. It had been quite unnerving but it would be nothing compared to the man's next words which came to him in the high elven tongue.

"The wandering lord of silver and fire seeks his past." It had been spoken by this old, broken man in a way that only elves were capable of doing and this fact hit Razell just as hard as the words he had spoken. 

The seer took Razell's hand in his own wrinkled and dirty appendage. Closing his eyes, the man seemed to fall into a transient state, quiet and still. Then he began speaking the elven tongue again in a voice which carried strength and conviction far beyond his frail body. "Silver of hair and fiery of heart, you seek a past which is hidden from you in the daylight; revealed only recently in fitful dreams. A powerful heirloom has been returned to your hands providing a light to shine upon the shadows of the past. The future will bring great bounty or great sorrow to your people and the key lies in the blindfold you wear." 

The old man's eyes opened, white and unfocused. A wet sheen covered his balding head and face. "Eh? Stopped in to have yer fortune told by old Bill? Three coppers it be, and don't you be thinkin' ye can cheat me on account of my blindness! I know an iron penny when I feel it!" 

Razell looked around at his companions. Derek stood nearby with a dumbfounded look across his sharp features, Vlad shifted uneasily from one foot to the other obviously uncomfortable with the situation, but it was Berkley Whitecloaks' sharp look of interest which gave him pause. The human had understood what the man had said and he knew something, or at least he had made some sort of connection. Razell had to know but this crowded market was not the place for such discussions. 

The silver haired elf pulled away from the old seer and stood hastily. Dropping a silver eagle to the keg which the drunken old man scooped up eagerly and bit down on with his few remaining teeth. "Silver!" The man trumpeted. "Thanks to ye good sir!" But Razell had already swept past the man, hurrying to the inn with his companions in tow. The puzzle before him had just become more complicated and now he was more determined than ever to solve it. 

Eye For an Eye

Kendrick Cwick, suffering many wounds and with all his supporters dead or dying, broke from the fight and raced out of the front door. I quickly pulled a masterwork arrow from its quiver and fired through the massive front portal. The flaming missile was barely out of the door when another followed and then a third, Est'Perolyne igniting and launching those deadly projectiles with such force the air shrieked as they raced the sixty-odd paces to their target.To Kendricks’ credit he was able to avoid the first two shots but his luck had expired. The third arrow struck true where the mans’ skull met his neck, a brief flare of orange flames roared across the back of his head as his hair caught alight. With a sickening thud the limp body of Kendrick Cwick landed, face first, on the frozen turf of the courtyard. Although this wound would likely be fatal the stubborn man would not stay down. Grunting and gasping for breath Cwick struggled to force his arms to do his bidding; to push his torso up off the ground.

Seeing this I dropped my bow and turned to retrieve my discarded swords. Dhaerow Athil (Traitors Bane) and Iriadors Drannor (Garnets Song) had been forged by Aben INSERT NAME HERE, a master craftsman of the north. These two newly crafted short swords would fulfill their purpose and end the life of Kendrick Cwick, avenging the loss of Deedra Garnet. Without hesitation I stalked through the open door and out into the courtyard.

I noticed several guards up on the outer wall, they were watching with interest yet, made no move to interfere. As I approached my one time friend and mentor the torch light from the building cast many copies of my shadow over his frame. He was still face down but had managed to push himself up on the backs of his wrists with his arms nearly locked straight. The effort in holding even that position strained the rogue and his body quivered in exertion.

For a mere heartbeat I stood there, in a surreal moment. My breath billowed into the night as great clouds of white mist. I could feel my heart pounding within my chest yet, while glancing at the razor sharp edges of my twin blades, they were steady and calm. I straddled his body and bent low, crossing my swords over his exposed throat. Dhaerow Athil and Iriadors Drannor reflected the torch light from their polished surfaces seeming to hold the full fury of the nine hells in their leaf-shaped form.

“Ademar.” Kendrick gasped.

I was not listening, nor was I to be swayed by any further words he might get out of his treacherous mouth. I leaned in close to his ear so that he would well understand my words.

“My blood oath is now fulfilled.” I stated.

Before a reply could leave his lips I began to rise, pulling up hard on my blades and dragging them out as I went. The keen edges bit hard and deep into the soft tissue and sinewy tendons alike. After only a few seconds of spasms and one last, pitiful gasp Kendrick Cwick collapsed into a quickly widening pool of his own blood.

When I rose I left the body lying there on the frozen ground. I cared not even to search his body. Glancing up at the walls, I met the gaze of a couple of the ‘guards’ standing there. None of them could hold my gaze and within minutes the walls were deserted.

Returning to recover Est’Perolyne, I felt strangely cold. I would have thought that killing my treacherous mentor would have put me at peace but I was not. I felt more hollow and alone than ever. My actions were wooden and unfocused. I could not tell you what events occurred the remainder of the night; my mind was so clouded and my heart ached again for my loss. I knew that night that, although my oath had been met, I would never shake the specter of Deedra Garnet nor could I ever escape the shame of the disaster that my actions had brought about. All I can pray to do now is survive my future trials and hope that Deedra approves from on high.

-Ademar Helyanwë

The Enemy of My Enemy

This session begins with the companions standing with King Darius’ Eastern front; waiting with the troops for an attack that never came. Previously, Cor’Nal had delivered a sealed message from King Darius for Colonel Rutland, ordering his army to retreat to the city’s Southern gate, leaving the companions floundering for direction. As the companions weren’t under orders to retreat with them, a decision had to be made as to where to go from here.

After much discussion, Gareth suggests a return to Grodek Keep, which the companions decide is as good an idea as any. After watching the Eystlund troops set out for the South gates to help with the impending attack, the four men begin to walk to their destination, having no horses and no spells to whisk them off as usual. Ademar quickly draws the irritation of his friends bemoaning the loss of his new man-servant and wondered aloud about who would be raising his tent each night now that Sheldon had left with the rest of the Eastern front.

The companions walked the road back towards Grodek Keep until twilight, hiding amongst trees nearly a hundred feet off the road. Ademar continued to complain about the injustice of being forced to sleep on the ground without his tent shielding him but they eventually got their camp set for the evening. Moments before the sun dipped over the horizon, a platoon of orcs, led by a pair of ogres, were heard marching down the road, the way the companions had come.

Not wanting to let the enemy slip by Ademar took aim with his bow and let the first shot fly. Gareth, caught off guard by the sudden call to action jumped up, grabbed his weapon and shield and went to meet the orcs with nothing more than his nightclothes on. Raell seeing the Orcs charge towards Ademar and Gareth drew Est’Megill-Galahd and commanded the sword to blaze as bright as the sun. Several orcs seeing a lone figure standing off to the side with light broke off and charged towards him along with one of the ogres. With the battle in full swing, Cor’Nal began to move about the group, using his druidic powers to aid his friends as needed. The companions made short work of the evil creatures and moved camp further down the road, away from the bodies of the monsters they had just killed. Once the new camp was established, the companions were able to rest for the remainder of the night.

In the morning, the companions quickly finished their journey to Grodek Keep, as Cor’Nal again utilized his “Smoking Bottle” spell, and met with Captain Herschel. The newly knighted Sir Cor’Nal reported to the captain that the king’s orders had been delivered to the commander of the troops on the Eastern front. Herschel seemed pleased with this news and told Cor’Nal that he would take the gathered companions to the city after dark to meet with the king. Ademar seeing this as an opportunity to relax decided to go in search of whores and wine, only to be halted in his tracks by the master of the keep, Greden Grodek.

Greden explained to the companions, that he had been having some strange dreams of late. One, before their arrival told of four heroes who would arrive at camp and stem the turn of the war in favor of King Darius and his subjects. This vision, he told them, he thought of as little more than wishful thinking manifested in the form of a dream. However, after their group arrived and reports came to him from Captain Herschel, Lt. Bancroft, Sir Kralek and others within camp about their successes in routing entire platoons and capturing siege machines, he began to wonder whether they could be the heroes his dreams had foretold. Later on, after their arrival, he had another dream. This one included a beautiful woman, vaguely elven, who led him through a bright, flowered meadow into a darkened forest. While in the forest, he tried to speak. While no words would come, he could hear his own voice in his head. Ignoring his questions, she told him to take the four outsiders to see “him”. While she did not speak his name, he believed he knew of whom she spoke. He explained to the companions that he had once been helped by this man in a time before. He told them that, once he felt the time was right, he would take them all to see this man.

After Greden left the companions to think about his cryptic story, they were once again set upon by Lt. Bancroft. Seeking their aid in getting word to another military unit in the north east that was still far from the city in order to give them orders on where to move in order to best defend it. Cor’Nal offered him a way to send a scout at best speed possible by use of a magical smoke horse. After this business was concluded Ademar saw this as his chance to go in search of booze and whores again. Raell tried to ignore the elf until he invited Gareth to join him. Raell knowing that Gareth would be meeting King Darius in just a few short hours used the power of the Sword of Light to halt Gareth in his tracks with its Hold Person ability. Raell then dragged the magically held Gareth back to the stable that was now being used to quarter them. Ever sanctimonious, Raell set to lecturing Gareth about how he was soon to meet a king and that he needed to rest. Ademar seeing his trouble-seeking friend get dragged back to the stable decided to give up on his search and settled down, content to sip from his own private stock of wine.

Shortly after dark that night, the companions set out with Captain Herschel to go meet with King Darius. Once they were through the city gates Herschel led them on a twisting path to the place where the king waits in hiding. Taken far down below the earth, the group was left in a room where the king would come to greet them.

After the usual pleasantries are completed, the King explains to the group that he feels that, as desperate times often call for desperate measures, it seems that he may need to utilize the service of a longtime nemesis in order to flush out the spies that have thwarted many of his plans in recent weeks. He goes on to tell them of a man, apparently known only as Rulan, leader of a gang called “The Stone Crows”. He tells them that for nearly the entire tenure of his reign, since almost his day of coronation, this criminal and his gang of thugs have run rampant in the slums of the city and beyond. He lists the multitude of their crimes: bribery, racketeering, slave running, theft, kidnapping, and worst of all, murder.

Another of his crimes is in the dealing of illicit information, the paying off of everyone from the lowest messenger boy to the highest ranking members of Darius’ Court, when possible, to find whatever information he can to further his own ambitions and stay out of the King’s dungeons.

It is this criminal talent that Darius is most concerned with now. It is a talent that, ironically, he feels the kingdom now needs in her darkest hour.

He asks that they find a way to meet with Rulan, though gathering the requisite information on how to do that is something he cannot help them with. The little information Darius has he gives to them: Rulan is a grotesquely obese man who dresses opulently and reportedly “wears his weight in gold”; his operation is known to be highly secretive and centered within the slums, though his subordinates are not confined to them. Darius tells them that, once Rulan is found, he does not want him killed; instead he wants the companions to find a way to appeal to Rulan’s interests and ask him to assist his monarch by finding out whatever he can about the enemy’s spy network. He tells them that he expects this to be a difficult task, but one that could prove essential to defeating the insurrection.

With the meeting complete, King Darius humbly offers, as he did the previous day with Cor’Nal, to make the remaining three companions Knights of Eystlund, giving them lands within the kingdom as well. Gareth, seemingly caught up in the dream of every sword for hire drops to his knees and accepts this honor with great humility, unable to even speak. Ademar, with half a grin on his scarred face, also bent knee and accepted this honor.

Raell on the other hand, inexplicably felt the need to refuse. Instead, he makes a cryptic demand of the King saying, ‘If you wish to honor me, you will drop my father down the deepest, darkest hole you can find, where the closest thing he gets to fresh air is what escapes from his arse.’ The King was, for a moment, struck dumbfounded, and soon after demonstrably angered by the incredible insult. Raell explained attempted further explanation stating that it would not look good for King and Kingdom if one of her knights were to be convicted of murder. Raell made it very clear that at some point, if all else failed, justice would be meted out by his own hand. Overtly suggesting his target would be Keller Kromwell. This further enraged the good king, who could not leave the seemingly insane, or perhaps incredibly stupid, half-elf behind fast enough. Who would dare enter his chamber, no matter how humble it was made by the circumstances, and not only refuse an offer of Knighthood but to also have the audacity to profess to the future crime of murder? Considering the many important matters laid at his feet, this was not something that Darius considered a priority, and expected his subject, the only one among them to be a true citizen of Eystlund to leave his own personal grievances behind and not be so stubbornly myopic and opportunistic. Briefly considering having the ignorant and clearly confused half-elf arrested by Captain Herschel for treason, he instead thought better of it and dismissed Raell altogether.

Afterward, the King reminded the group that, as another token of his appreciation, he would have his aging mage enchant an item of their choosing. One that had to meet the requirement of being something they already own of masterwork quality. They spent a considerable amount of time debating which item they would like enchanted by Bravin Silvermorn, before settling on the bracers of Ademar’s Remhoraz armor; which were given a +1 defense bonus (after a lousy roll by the DM).

Several hours later, the companions leave their King as well as their horses and start to walk about the city in search of an inn. Raell inexplicably decides the best way to go about it was to pretend he didn’t know his friends and walk well behind them, misunderstanding Darius orders to wear their arm bands that distinguished them as Knights of Eystlund. At nearly four in the morning, the group came upon the closest inn to the King’s whereabouts: The Chunky Wench. Raell, in a further attempt to separate from the others seats himself at the bar as the trio of elves move to a table. A thickly cut inn keeper over six feet in height introduces herself as Patricia Reynolds and tells them that she is also owner of the establishment. After ordering food and drinks, Ademar loudly asks if she knew of Rulan or anyone associated with the Stone Crows. Patricia explains that she knows of one gentleman who might have some association with them who often comes in during afternoon hours. After giving the three a full description of the man, Ademar asked if there was anywhere else they could go to find information, Patricia told them of tavern in the slums that they might try. Cor’Nal then proclaimed in a deadpan voice, ‘this isn’t the slums?’ Patricia did her best to ignore the comment as she went about the task of taking care of her other customers. Finished with seeking information here, Raell bought the use of a room for three nights and was ready to retire to it until his companions decided to head for the ‘slums’, in further search of more information on how to get in touch with Rulan.

With the coming light of the morning, the three Elves strolled into the worst area of Eystlundtowne. Burned out shops and homes were gutted and left standing on nearly every street. Homeless people and other dubious characters watched the three elves, one in full plate armor march through the streets. Raell still following dozens of feet behind also drew the eyes of the common folk, failing miserably in his endeavor to blend in. The armor he wore under his cloak told those who watched that he had coin, and probably a lot of it. A screeching old woman approached the Elves, pleading with them to give her some coppers. Ademar gave her some coins and moved quickly away from her, hoping she hadn’t drawn any more attention than his clothes, armor and weapons already had. As Raell came into her view she started to screech again, only this time, Raell called her over showing her a flash of coin in his hand. As the old woman drew near, Raell reached out to give her the coin telling her that ‘Master Kromwell sends his regards.’ This seemed to frighten the woman who ran away, disappearing around a corner into an alleyway. After the commotion, the companions continued on, with Raell inexplicably keeping distance at the rear.

Shortly before finding the inn that Reynolds had described to them, Cor’Nal glanced up, seeing what looked to be a figure watching the three from the roof top of a distant building. Yet at the distance it was impossible for the druid to make out many details. Shaking his head at the surrounding human filth, the druid followed Ademar into a brightly lit, music-filled tavern replete with gaming tables. A sign over the door gave the name “The Barrel’s Bottom”. Ademar Nightwalker, intrigued by the smell of wine and the telltale click of dice, did not hesitate to make his way inside. Ademar and Cor’Nal moved to the bar to order drinks while Gareth waited outside for Raell. Raell seeing this moved to the other side of the street, trying to find a place to watch the inn from what he believed to be a safe distance. Gareth still not understanding his friend’s strange behavior called out to him. “Raell, what are you doing? Come over here!” In a panic, Raell ignored Gareth and continued walking down the street and into a blind alley where he was accosted by two thugs.

After feeling a sudden thump on the back of his head he turned with stars in his eyes turned to face his attacker. Dropping a hand to his sword, he looked at two men, one held a well-used sap, the other a small dagger. Using Est’Megill-Galahd once again, Raell caught the thug in a hold spell. The smaller of the two men, the one holding a dagger in his fist, ordered his partner to ‘hit him again.’ Raell looked at the man, extended his blade and told him to run, which he did. Raell then interrogated the one he had held magically, finding out that he was a member of a minor gang, and had no affiliation with the Stone Crows. Before the thug came free of the spell, Raell bound him with rope.

While inside the inn, Ademar tried his hand at a house game called Three Dragon Ante. After losing a few games, he moved on to his old favorite, Dancing Dice. Cor’Nal continued to watch this version of the shell game as it claimed a new victim, seeing the man palm the ruby that should have been under one of the three cups. Cor’Nal attempted to warn the man of the game’s fix, but was ignored. After the victim pointed to a cup Cor’Nal knew would have no ruby, he reached out and picked up the other two cups, showing the drunk that there was no ruby under any of them. Looking at the dealer Cor’Nal said, ‘I believe you owe this man some money.’ While the dealer did pay the poor drunk the coin he owed, he rushed off with his cups to leave the inn, but not before stopping to talk to a rather large man at the rear of the inn, who only nodded as he turned his gaze towards the druid.

As Ademar lost his first five silver to the Dancing Dice, Raell was further harassing the thug he had tied up in the alley. He asked the man if he knew where to find Rulan. The stuttering man protested that he didn’t know anything about Rulan and that he didn’t run with the Stone Crows. Raell smacked the man in the head, telling him that he wasn’t stupid, that even if he didn’t know where Rulan hid, he knew what areas to avoid, what questions to ask. Raell then pulled out a single platinum coin and stuffed it into the mouth of the man who tried to murder him. Raell told him, “You find out what I want to know, I will give you enough of these to fill your whole mouth.” The thug looked at the crazed half elf and said “Who are you, how will I find you?” As Raell stood over the thug, he told him “Kromwell and I will find you, where you just found me.”

With that, Raell left the man tied in the alley and went to rejoin Gareth in front of the inn.

Back at the Dancing Dice table, Ademar continued to lose coin. After a time he asked the man running the table if he knew anything about Rulan or the Stone Crows. The man said he would talk to him but ‘not here.’ The Dancing Dice man told Ademar to meet him out back, scooping up the dice and the coin he had taken from Ademar, the man stood and started to leave the room through a door at the rear. Ademar and Cor’Nal followed quickly behind. As Cor’Nal walked by, he was stopped by an enormous bouncer who put a massive hand to his chest. “I’m watching you.” He told the druid who shoved the brute’s hand away, muttering a retort as he followed behind Ademar.

Following the Dancing Dice man into an alley behind the building the elves noticed a pair of elderly men puffing on pipes, their eyes glassy and unfocused. The man who led them into the alley noticed their discomfort with the audience and explained that the two were hop-heads that wouldn’t remember anything they saw here come morning. The Dancing Dice man then proceeded to tell the elves that if they wanted to know about Rulan, they needed to talk to a man he knew as “Mackey”. Mackey was described as giant of a man who was an enforcer employed by the Crows and if anybody could lead them to Rulan, it was him. Ademar asked when Mackey normally came around and the Dancing Dice man told him he was there most days around highsun or later. Satisfied with that the elves thanked the human and left the inn. The four companions returned to The Chunky Wench where Gareth decided to sleep in the room Raell had paid for while Ademar got himself and Cor’Nal breakfast.

Ademar and Cor’Nal then decide to go in search of things to procure; legally. This leads them first to Cora’s General Store where they buy some masterwork arrows. There aren’t many to be had and Ademar finds the price exorbitant and so decides to talk down the beautiful, but seemingly dim proprietor. She doesn’t come down much, but acquiesces due to the lack of customers since the beginning of the war, especially since the initial siege. After leaving Cora, the two make their way to “INSERT NAME HERE” where the proprietor tells them that he just fletched a hundred masterwork arrows some weeks before, but never sold a single one. Initially, he tells them they can have the lot for 700 gold pieces, which of course Ademar scoffs at. Eventually, he is able to get the shopkeeper to accept a meager 550 sovereigns for the hundred arrows.

Raell also decides to do some light shopping and makes his way to Cora’s General Store. As his companions before him had found out; the store was run by an extremely beautiful woman blessed with the voice of a harpy. Raell decides to buy a simple pair of black breeches with a matching shirt. As he paid more for the set of clothes than she had asked, Cora unexpectedly propositions Raell with sex. Only hearing her voice in his head, Raell declines and leaves her store. Once in the street, he momentarily considers going back and accepting her offer before thinking better of it. Raell then sets out for the south side of the city where he could find the estate of Keller Kromwell. It wasn’t until he sees the pair of plate-armored guards standing outside of Keller’s gate that Raell realized that he didn’t know what he was doing there. A guard looked down at the half-elf and asked if he had an appointment.

“What? No.” Raell stammered, “Is he here?” The guard continued to look down at Raell and asked him what he wanted. “Tell him it’s his bastard.” The guard turned around, opened a large iron gate and spoke to someone inside. After a few moments the gate opened up again and Raell was told that they were not receiving visitors. Raell unable to think of anything else to say just told the guard “Tell my father that his other son is coming.” With this Raell turned and started the long walk back to the Chunky Wench. During the walk back, Raell was stopped by a man in white robes claiming to be a priest of Solarth who began to question Raell about his faith. Saying that he believed Raell to be a good man, he suggested to the half-elf that he should consider joining the Order of The Golden Dawn.
Raell politely declined, though he was taken back to the day before when Greden Grodek told the companions of his dreams. When the robed-man finished, Raell tried to tell him the story of his own death and the death of Ryan MacBrady, though the man took no interest in it. After bidding the priest farewell, Raell looked towards the Temple of Solarth off in the distance and briefly considered going there but instead returned to the inn to meet with his friends.

All four companions, now reunited, set out to return to “The Barrel’s Bottom” to seek out Mackey, hoping to broker a deal that would lead them to Rulan. Gareth, attempting both a lower profile, and a more accommodating outfit should the need for haste arise, opted for a lighter set of armor, specifically a set of unused elven chain. Regardless, the many poor of the slums swarmed him and the rest of the group. Gareth tossed coins in the street in order to distract the mob, which works splendidly as they scatter to fight for them. Once they arrive at “The Barrel’s Bottom”, Gareth and Raell wait outside while Cor’Nal and Ademar investigate within. Soon, the man who promised to point him out nods them in the direction of a massive man who could only be the “Mackey” they had been told of.
Ademar, feeling the weight of his past experiences went to stand next to the man. After a moment he asked the giant man if he indeed, was Mackey. Mackey turned and reached for Ademar’s throat, but the elf deftly deflected Mackey’s massive paw, barely avoided having his throat crushed. Somewhat surprised, Mackey looked at Ademar for the first time. “What do you want little man?” Ademar told Mackey who he was and told him he wanted to meet with Rulan. After a lengthy discussion Mackey agrees to their requests and if allowed to do so, will arrange a meeting with Rulan.

Ademar tells Mackey that he and the others can be found at The Chunky Wench if he has any news concerning their audience with the gangster.

The four companions then leave the The Barrel’s Bottom but are quickly drawn to the alley behind the tavern by the sound of a fight. The four of them stand and watch as two shirtless humans are engaged in what appears to be a loosely sanctioned boxing match between a tall, well-muscled, heavily tattooed fighter and a smaller, leaner fighter, sans body ink. Cor’Nal, caught up in the spirit of things, jests that it would be a waste that this fight should go on without someone placing a bet, which Ademar, of course, promptly does proclaiming that he has 20 silvers on the smaller, less tattooed of the pugilists. Some random commoner watching from a window above the group gladly accepts Ademar’s careless wager. The four stand transfixed on the two fighters until the smaller man succumbs, losing his consciousness as well as a few teeth. Once Ademar’s lost silvers were paid, the four make their way back to the Chunky Wench to await word from Mackey and the man Patricia had told them of in the early morning hours.

As the noon hour approached, Mackey's lackey entered the Chunky Wench, looking around the room. As the companions were the only elves in the place, Ademar was easy to pick out. He went directly to Ademar and told him that he had a message from Mackey. When Ademar leaned in to listen the agent of Mackey’s said, “Piss off.” When Ademar told the messenger what he could do with that message, the fool drew his blade to threaten the elf. Raell, seeing this reached out with the power of his sword and held the man. Raell then drug the thug out of the inn and laid him down in the road. After taking away all of the thugs weapons, Raell pointed one finger at the man’s face and told him, “Not in here.” Raell then turned around and went back to his spot at the bar.

The hours passed away in The Chunky Wench as the companions waited for their next possible lead to Rulan. As the dinner hour drew near a man matching the description the companions had been given by Patricia came in and took a seat at the bar.

Before the man was able to order, he was set upon by Ademar. Believing Ademar to be one of the thugs in Mackey’s crew, he began to blurt about how he had three days left to pay Mackey back what he owed him. Ademar, sensing an opportunity, attempted to use this against the ruffian. After some confusion, Ademar gives up the ruse and demands to know where the entrance to the Stone Crows hideout is. At first the thug is reluctant, stating that he already was in debt to Mackey, who was not known for kindness to debtors and he wasn’t interested in making things worse by leading Knights of Eystlund to the leader of the Stone Crows. Raell listening not far away asked the man how much he owed Mackey. When the man told Raell that he owed one thousand gold pieces, Raell offered to pay the debt in exchange for the whereabouts of the hideout. Ademar reluctantly agreed that he and his friends would give the man the gold if he led the companions to Rulan. Of course there was a catch: “I won’t show you anything ‘til after dark.” The man said before leaving. Agreeing to meet at The Chunky Wench after sundown, the companions used that time to get some much needed rest.

As promised, the man met with the companions after dusk, demanding half the total coin before leaving the inn. Grudgingly, Ademar paid the man, though this wasn’t part of the original agreement. After the man had the gold in hand, he led the companions to a crossroads in the slums. He looked at the companions and said, “I am not going to point, I will only nod towards the door once you give me the rest of my coin.” Once Ademar gave the man the rest of the promised coin, he gestured slightly towards an old, wood and stone building with a very solid wooden door. He then ran off, disappearing into the city slums leaving the companions behind.

Ademar knocked on the door once they approached the building. A peephole slid open in the door showing a pair of eyes on the other side. The voice inside the door asked “What do you want?” When it was said that they were there to meet Rulan, the voice asked, “How does a Stone Crow fly?” Cor’Nal answered “It doesn’t”. The voice then asked, “When does it?” As none of the companions were able to answer the question, the peep hole slid closed. Cor’Nal, approaching the limits of his patience decided to open the door under his own power. Reaching out with his gifts, Cor’Nal warped the wood of the door until it broke free of its hinges and fell away from its frame. The door fell outward towards them, landing with a thud. They then moved toward the opening, using the fallen door as a ramp and gained entrance to the stone structure. There they saw a porcine, male figure, seated in a chair on the other side of a small fire pit in the center of the room. The massive man stood, and introduced himself as Rulan, leader of The Stone Crows.

Ademar stepped forward, telling the man that he and his friends were here on behalf of the king. The man in the chair asked what it was that the king wanted. “Information.” Ademar stated, “The king believes he has a spy in his ranks. If Rulan can tell the king who that spy is, the king would be willing to forgive Rulan of one future indiscretion.” The man in the chair asked why he would do that, why would The Stone Crows betray Rogar the Beast, a fellow enemy of the king? The companions tried to make the point that life under the rule of Rogar, or whomever he works for would not be kind to Rulan or the Stone Crows. The fat man then turned his head slightly to the rear and asked someone out of sight, “What do you think?” The ominous response was clear:

“Kill them.”

With this, two curtains fell and the companions were attacked by a trio of guards and two flesh golems.

Ademar wasted no time responding and quickly drew an arrow from his quiver and made ready to shoot. It was at this moment, all eyes in the room were drawn to the elf. Waves of power and heat rolled off Est’Perolyne as the magic arrow Ademar nocked reacted in synergy to the magic of the bow. Ademar, unsure of what was about to happen, fired the shot towards the man in the chair. The arrow of fire sunk deep into the gangster’s forehead, blowing out the back of his head, spraying bits of skull and brain matter into the lavish seat behind, killing him instantly. Certain now that they had killed Rulan, despite orders to the contrary, they continued to fight with the remaining men in the room. No longer believing that discretion was necessary with Rulan dead they slaughtered all that came, including the flesh golem monstrosities.

Though they had won, the companions looked around at one another in disbelief at what Ademar’s arrow had done to their query. Defeated, Ademar spoke first, “I only wanted to stun him!”

Before anyone could respond the sound of sarcastic applause filled the air. Seeming to walk through the stone of the wall itself, a man, wearing expensive red and black silks and a smallish, circular headdress appeared. “Mackey said you might be tough, but he didn’t expect you would be this tough.” As he spoke, more men filed out of the wall, lining the outer walls of the room to surround the companions. The clapping man moved around the throne that the enormous dead man’s body had comically fallen upon, callously shoved the carcass to the floor and sat upon the chair himself. It seemed a natural fit. It was then that the realization came over them all.

The dead, fat man wasn’t Rulan at all.

“Hello.” The man spoke. “Welcome. My name is Rulan.”

Before anybody else could say a word one of the companions spoke.

“We’re not paying for the door.” Raell said plainly.

End Recap.