Session 06 Expanded
3rd day of Reaping CY 621
Location: Chathold – World Map
Map Tab Color: Red
Letter to Malkan, Brother at the Holy Chapel of the Mace
In my last letter I mentioned how we were tracing down a group of rogues called the Stonehands, with the purpose of rescuing a likely-dead victim of kidnapping. Master Gilnaeus has managed to avert disaster and freed two of our companions from the misunderstanding with the city watch, which appears more and more corrupt each passing hour. Luckily we (or at least the party wizard) obtained the services of a hulking and dangerous fighter, Boagrius, as I described in my previous note.
Now two of our adventurers brave enough to walk where angels fear to tread came to a meeting with someone called Daviax and discussed sundry topics, although I myself was not a part of it, and I only heard of it later when we reconvened the party, but I never did learn the details. It must have been a terrible moment for Craig Pain to walk into a room with he recent torturer now as his dealing partner, for this Daviax was one of the chief architects of his suffering in the city watch jail. But Drogan Steele , however, seemed less concerned, at least insofar as there might be some advantage in dealing with the likes of a fallible Daviax. As I said, I never found out what they discussed that night, exactly, only I later learned that it might be possible to contact Daviax through them.
Meanwhile, Boagrius, Master Gilnaeus, Uncle Lo, and I made other plans, since we did not ascertain the whereabouts of those two. It was calculated that the easiest way to find information on the missing girl would be to rough up some of the gang of stonearms and then beat them down until they agreed to pass on the due information. We went down to the docks and found a shameful cadre of such fellows lazily passing the day by recovering from their hangovers, doubtless waiting for an opportunity to conduct some villainy that evening. Master Gilnaeus questioned one of them with Boagrius coldly killing the ones that did not respond to orders. At last some desired information was found: the most corrupt of the city watch in the ward is certainly the same Daviax mentioned above, and another Gascov or some such name, was heard to be a stone arm agent in charge of the prostitution of the ward and perhaps some other vice-mongering as well. After killing the man who was questioned—a brutal and merciless act that, I assure you, almost brought something resembling sympathy to my heart—we proceeded to attempt to regroup with our companions.
Several ideas came up as possible ways of pursuing our aim (in theory) of recovering the lost girl. The first idea was that Craig Pain would act like a corpse for the purposes of collecting on a contract put out by the city guard. This seemed to be able to have the benefit of drawing out Daviax, or whoever put the contract on Craig Pain’s life. But it also seemed like a risky way for Craig Pain, and as we later learned that Craig Pain and Drogan Steele had visited Daviax, he seemed unlikely to have put out such a contract when he let Craig Pain live while he had a train of warriors who followed him to the meeting. Ultimately, the goal seemed to be to acquire information about Estonas, the priest of some foul deity who has been pursuing the making of stone limbs and supply thieves with them. Cuthbert’s Nostrils! What kind of a fool goes about supplying thieves with more limbs? I suspect it is Estonas who will be able—if anyone is—to explain what happened to the girl. But where is Estonas? Only the Stonearms seem to know. And of the stonearms, the most likely candidates for a furthering of our knowledge were Deviax and Gascov.
At last Boagrius suggested a way of getting to Gascov. We would commandeer some slaves from a local slave-house and then sell them as chattel for prostitution. They need not be the high quality prostitutes of gentlemen’s clubs, just average hos. So we made our way to the closest such slave-house. Most of the slavers fled at our approach, but one was foolish enough to resist. Boagrius battered down the door, and the party warriors went to work. About 18 seconds later the slavers were no more, but the slaves were captured. Part one of the plan had gone off without a hitch.
Next we had to achieve a meeting with Gascov and play off that we were selling such slaves as he would take an interest in. For some reason, we thought that Drogan Steele and Craig Pain somehow had a good chance of pulling off the mission of getting a meeting with Gascov. I am not sure what was going through our heads, but I remember, distinctly, that it made sense at the time. So they were sent to some fashion-less, luckless inn down by the docks for the purpose of making inquiries. The barkeep was practically a pirate and as the two were determined to meet with some buyer—any buyer—he was sending potential buyers to Drogan Steele and Craig Pain. This was good for the buyers, but not for us. Some horrid creep took an odd interest in our wares and seemed to determined for to invite those two down a dark alley to be able to have some resolution before leaving the tavern. The two resisted this, even though from a distance they saw the halfling whore pleasing the vagrant. The two adventurers left the others and went back to the whorehouse we had usurped.
We had fresh problems later, however, when the curious and bizarre person (not Gascov, rather the undesireable fellow who liked halflings) showed up to look at our slaves and brought his halfling with him. No sooner did the wizard get them to leave than we found out we were in for the fight of our life. Out of the darkness, it seemed that someone—the halfling whore—was actually a wizard and cast a fireball at the house. It blew up nearly killing Boagrius and Master Gilnaeus.
At the same time, other assassins were trying to set the house on fire. After a deadly struggle, the assassins retreated, but Craig Pain did manage to fire an incredible shot and kill one that one creep who had almost managed to get away.
I am in some need of counsel, because I am having mixed feelings about some of the slaughter, the morality of the situation seems unclear. I don’t feel obliged to go out and do random acts of kindness, but at the same time, I would like to distance myself from some of the systematic killing. I cannot say I am not angry over the crimes being committed, and perhaps I could make a ritual prayer to Cuthbert if I would take a trip down to the docks in every city I visit and kill ten thieves or so, but it lacks the formality of legal process, which makes the punishment of the guilty so rewarding. Otherwise, I will send you my confession of all the things I have observed being done wrong by other people, and ask for your wisdom in how to properly penalize the wrongdoers.