Suulin showed up early one morning with a message sealed with the King’s seal. She said she was told to deliver the message as soon as possible. I opened the note and found that it had been written in the kings own hand. I was being summoned to a manner in one of the underground cities of Throal. I was allowed to bring any of the Unchained to the event. I showed the note to Suulin and said that I would like all of The Unchained. Suulin congratulated me and told me that Urgral was staying at the Tippling T’skrang and she could let him know. I decided that we could just meet at the Dashing stag as it was still in the docks of Throal. I sent Mika to give messages to Dagmar, Stilicho, Dremnin, and Vridich.
We met that night at the Stag.
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Fafnir had found us a scroll in the library on how to bond as a group. We had also talked to the master of the forge at Dagmar’s forge on how to make these group pattern items. The smith had given us a couple of pointers and we had developed a plan.
We were going to rent a small building at the forge that has a small forge in it that was not commonly used. Urgral was in charge of cleaning the forge and the smudging it with a combination of sage and lavender. Being a horror stalker he had a special sense to make sure that there were no negative energies.
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At the end of the second week in Throal S’kram woke up with his face lying in an old musty tomb. Fafnir was relentless in his teachings. S’kram had not been out one night this week. He was beginning to think that he was never going to survive the training or see the sun again. He pushed the book away and sat up. S’kram decided he was going out today.
After cleaning himself and dressing he summoned Mika and headed out. He was going to see Stilicho about Fafnir traveling on the ship. He had already talked to Dagmar, and he was sure that Vridich, Suulin, Urgral, and Dremnin would not mind.
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The day after I had finished my training to sixth circle I went to see my friend Fafnir in the great library. I found him buried behind a pile of books and scrolls. He smiled and came around the desk to greet me. I produced a couple of crocks of his favorite Ale. We sat down to talk and have a drink.
I had come to Fafnir to ask him to train me in the skills of research, evidence analysis, search, and dragon lore. When we first met we had gotten off on the wrong foot. I did not understand Fafnir and his book learned ways. With a little bit of world experience under my belt I had learned the power that could be gained from the knowledge in these books. I would not become some spell caster, but I could learn from the experiences of others. We talked of old stories and Fafnir lost me with his talk of the research in to the Book of Tomorrow he had done.
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stood on the bow of the deck. I could still see the group of dwarves that were marching off with Trejak and the rest prisoners. I could see where the slaves we had saves had been taken too. Several were still eating at some tables out side of the inn. Some of them were happy and laughing, others ate in quiet. I felt a battle of emotions doing battle in my soul. Rage stirred in when I looked to the prisoner detail leading Trejak to the Dungeons. We had arrested him but some anger deep inside me told me that my story with him may not be over. When I look to the slaves or to the deck of the dashing stag I felt pride and content.
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It had been a week since Bregna had watched Dagmar Steelsong kiss his wife and hug his children as he bid them goodbye. He had walked away with an air of purpose, wearing a suit of crystal armor with a shield slung on his back and a very large unadorned sword hanging from his belt. She walked to the Stonehand Forge that morning as she had every morning since meeting the strange craftsman. She didn’t understand why she was drawn to the place, but every day she would sit in the same place in the alley across from the forge and watch the smiths go about their business. She had learned all the faces by the end of the second day and had a pretty good idea of where everyone fit in. The old Dwarf was in charge, he didn’t have to yell or bully his men, like a leader in the Ratway would. He would speak quietly to his charges, or convey his desires with little more than a glance. A Dwarven youth who had the old man’s face imprinted on his own followed him around, learning his way around the forge.
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Bregna stood her ground and balled up her fists, hoping that her reputation would keep her from this fight as it normally did. She didn’t believe that this would be the case as she looked at the two stringy humans and stocky dwarf youths. They looked very angry, and the object of their ire was cowering behind Bregna. “We’re not after you Ork, get out of our way and let us have Roni, he stole from us,” growled Henry, the human youth who seemed to be in charge of the gang today
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A stiff but steady southwesterly blew the airship steadily home toward Bartertown and beyond it, the Kingdom of Throal. Dremnin surveyed the sprawling stretch of mountains to starboard, and smiled to himself. Before dusk, they’d be returning as heroes once again. He’d plotted his course true, and now held the Stag’s helm firm against the wind.
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Following the fight with the Jehuthra, we found Trejack in a concealed back room. He immediately threw down his clubs and stated flatly that he surrendered. I smiled, and was about to mock him when suddenly Skram sprung forward. He shouted and brought his hammer down on Trejack with crushing force. Trejack was knocked to the floor, badly wounded by the devastating hit. Skram then accepted Trejack’s surrender, but we could all tell he wanted the man’s blood. None of us could blame him, the man certainly deserved death if ever a man did. In the room we discovered a huge pile of ancient pre-scourge books. There were a number of other items, including a large iron bound chest, but there was one which simply called to me. Today, looking back, I know Rashomon guided me to it, a Blue Mantle which lay neatly folded and covered with dust on a stone table in the center of the room.
After a few minutes we had Trejack bound hand and foot with a pair of shackles I kept in my pack. It was then that Vridich pointed out to us that Trejack was horror infested. Literally it looked in Astral Space like a horror no larger than a gnat was living in him. Urgral thought the horror may have been contained in an urn, one of several in the room. One had been recently knocked over and it was filled with what appeared to be sand. After some discussion we decided that it would be best to send Urgral topside to get a book from our Ward Room, which he thought would help us.
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After we dropped off the beautiful T’skrang priestess at their temple we headed out for Throal. I wished I had been in better spirits It was rare to have one T’skrang woman in our camp, let alone four. My shame kept me from being my normal self.Suulin and I each paid the Questers 1000 silver from out own purses. It was the least I could do for them as they removed the horrors from our heads.
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