Month: February 2017

The Dark Elves had always been reclusive. Magick was prominent in their history. The Dark Elves had warred since antiquity against the Gray Elves who inhabited the western Lachinor. The last conflict had occurred at the time of the struggles against the Sorcerer of the Lachinor and his progeny. The Dark Elves had resumed their posture of secrecy and isolation after the conflict. Their greatest queen Businda had expanded their area of influence in the central Lachinor and had carefully kept her people out of the conflicts of the area. Businda had avoided conflict with the denizens of the deeper Lachinor.

The black dragons never regained the status they enjoyed during the ages that old Xollos dominated the area. They now roamed as solitary marauders or in small gaggles when they were young. The goblins were more of a nuisance. They had not risen in force since the Chieftain Gretsch was defeated by Prince Eomore thirty years ago. Hobgoblin numbers were always smaller and their fierceness and aggression prevented concerted and coordinated efforts. Hobgoblins allied only with a very powerful and charismatic leader. Ogres now lived mainly in the foothills and lower ranges of the Iron and Southern Mountain ranges. The giants still occasionally marauded in the east but seldom ventured into the plains beyond the great gap in the Iron Mountains. The deep Lachinor remained a place of mystery. Even the Dark Elves and the hardiest brigands of Rancide, the toughest of the Easterners, were reluctant to explore these reaches.

The Dark Elves knew more of this area than anyone. Finding the Dark Elves and convincing them to help would be a significant challenge. The Dark Elves’ privacy was aided by the legends of the Lachinor, and this included the legend of the lethality of the groaning spirit, the Banshee΄.

Elphis led Nigel’s group to the propinquity of the Dark Elves sanctuary.

The guide led them to an area of higher ground.

“Wait here,” he requested.

He slipped into the woods and disappeared. He returned in a few moments.

“Queen Brynnya has granted you an audience. I had to promise her that you would honor her with a donation. You can’t bring weapons into Black Dragon’s Horn. She will see only three. Everyone else will have to wait here,” Elphis reported.

Cara, Erinnia, and Knarra elected to go with Elphis. They reluctantly left their gear.

The three companions of the guide lingered with the group that remained. Nigel struck up conversations with them. Axell was quite talkative, but the dialect was difficult for all but Nigel to understand. Only Nigel understood Chaotic Evil dialect.

They retired to rooms in the Dead End Inn. Vanni, Eomore, Boomer, and Big Jon guarded the stairs in shifts but there was no intrusion against them.

The next morning they gathered for breakfast.

“Do you trust Elphis?” Knarra asked.

“Of course not,” Nigel answered. “He does like baubles and bling. I’ve promised him five hundred Dakin and a bejeweled dagger if he leads us to the junction of the path of which he speaks. He is a weasel- a scoundrel. But I think he is telling the truth about the bewitched pathway. It may lead to our foe.”

“It’s worth investigating. It would beat running around aimlessly in the swamps hunting for a place to break our hearts,” Cara responded.

Elphis arrived with three comrades. The three comrades were more like hobgoblins than men. They were tall and had pointed ears. Elves did not have pointed ears. Elphis called them Axell, Taggyrt, and Boogymille.

Elphis asked, “Are you ready? I have business to attend. I’m a business elf. I’m always doing business. Do you have the money?”

Nigel said, “We didn’t barter for these three guys. I’m not paying them.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Elphis answered. “If we run into any wraiths you’ll be glad they are along. Are you afraid?”

“I’m not afraid,” Dael asserted.

“You will be,” Elphis answered. “You’ll probably be dead! But I’m not going to tell you your business. I’m just a guide.”

Cara consulted Nigel; she said, “I don’t want to wake up with one of these cutthroats slicing my throat. Let’s watch them carefully!”

“It’ll be done, my lady,” Nigel assured her.

They returned to the Hallucinatory Forest and retrieved their gear. The bluewood canoes were still there. The dock master approached Nigel.

“Some local guys were very upset with you! They tried to burn the canoes. My men handled them. They said something about ripping off your head and …”

“Not in front of the ladies, please,” Nigel replied. “You did your job well. Here’s your reward.”

“Here’s a piece of free advice, my friend. You are traveling with the biggest scoundrel in Rancide. Watch him and the dynamic trio closely,” the dock master advised.

“Your advice is noted,” Nigel answered and gave the man another twenty Dakin.

They entered the canoes and paddled downriver. About midday they arrived at a small hamlet. They went ashore and paid a local fisherman to watch the canoes. The party started down a well trodden path. There were no houses outside the settlement. Soon they entered the wilds of the Lachinor. The air was fetid; the insects were thick; beasts roamed throughout the swamp. The path quickly became less trodden. They splashed along the trail.

The crowd demanded encores. Cyttia felt strong. She never tired from exercise. She did another flip and pretended she battled the Big Bad Man-wolf. The crowd howled. As a matter of fact, the big bad Man-wolf had howled too as she pummeled him! A burly fisherman jumped onto the stage. Cyttia jumped away from him. The shadowy figure with the scimitar drew the weapon and stood. The fisherman cowered before him and crawled off the stage. Cyttia bowed to the security man and then the crowd and left the stage.

Morck Bhroades had his best night ever as a proprietor. He approached the table where Nigel sat with Cara, Knarra, and Elphis.

“She’s great! I’ll pay double! I’ll pay triple!” Morck said. He looked at Cara and said, “I’ll double it again if you’ll get up there and dance!”

Nigel and Cara had learned a lot from their discussions with Elphis. They really didn’t want to spend time with the greedy merchant. They wanted rest and sleep.

Nigel looked at Morck and said, “Let us think about it. If you thought the tall girl was good, you should see this one!”

Cara kicked Nigel under the table.

“Here’s your wages for tonight! I’ve added a hundred Dakin. Please consider my offer,” Morck said. He left them because there was ale to sell.

Nigel winked at Cara and said, “I think I’m better at this than stealing!”

Cara smiled demurely, “I think you enjoy it too much, Nigel. If it were thirty years ago, I might take you up on the offer. Dancing for this many Dakin would have topped working in a tavern and enduring the lustful gazes of fennig pinchers.”

(A fennig was worth one hundredth of a Dakin)

The Queen and the Steward of Ooranth stood and left the tavern. They found Cyttia waiting outside. The Draith was not tired.

“Did I do OK?” Cyttia asked.

“Yes,” Nigel answered.

The heat of the afternoon pervaded the main room of the tavern. An older man was seated with two women and a shadowy figure armed with a large scimitar. The older man was dressed in finer raiment than they had seen for the most part in Rancide. The women were typical of those they had seen about town; small in number and commanding attention. The figure with the scimitar looked hard in their direction.

The older man spoke, “What do you want? We are closed for business. Come back later.”

Nigel said, “We’re travelers. We’re in need of a roof over our head and some rations for our bellies. We are a bit short on Dakin. My young friend is a fair dancer.”

“She could pack in a lot of customers. We could use some new entertainment,” Morck pondered.

“Are you good?” one of the women asked icily.

“With her looks, it doesn’t matter,” Morck quipped.

Cyttia angered, but Nigel restrained her by squeezing her wrist.

“Can we talk price?” Nigel asked.

“I’ll see how you do. I’ll pay you based on what you bring in, unless there are…shall we say, other considerations,” Morck continued.

Morck was precariously close to receiving an open kick to the head but Nigel controlled Cyttia’s anger again.

“Fair enough! We’ll get them in here,” Nigel replied.

The women sneered at Cyttia who did not return their gazes. The security man never said anything. Nigel sensed a familiarity with him but could not recall where he had seen the man before.

They split into groups. Nigel, Boomer, and Cyttia stayed at the area near the Dead End Inn. Roscoe, Knarra, Cara, and Eomore went to the streets to the left; Eyerthrein, Kyrsstina, Erinnia, and Vanni went to the right; Lyana, Big Jon, Cade, and Dael went to the center of town. They made small talk and talked of the new dancer at the Dead End. Nigel hawked the performance also, and Boomer grudgingly continued the ruse of being Nigel’s servant. Cyttia did some jumps and flips; she attracted a lot of attention. By the time the sun dipped in the west a sizeable crowd had gathered at the Dead End.

The crowd included some curious Dark Elves. The music wasn’t great; the lute player and several wind instruments created a basic rhythm but Cyttia went onto the stage anyway. She pretended to be in the arena at Ooranth competing in the games. She would not have worn a little green walking dress in the arena, but the outfit served its purpose in the Dead End. Cyttia’s movements were precise and detailed; the crowd was noisy and raucous. They spent lots of Dakin. The ale was actually a fairly good- or maybe they were just thirsty.

During the show they made the acquaintance of an easterner named Elphis. Elphis said he was a “merchant” but would not elaborate. He was wiry, taller than an elf, but had some definite elfish features. He bragged of knowing of a trail that no creatures would travel upon. The clerics of the Dark Elves had sensed great Evil in the area and encouraged their people to avoid the trail. For a price Elphis was willing to escort the group as far as the entrance to the trail but he would not go further.

 

Cyttia looked stunning in her light green walking dress. Erinnia wore the light brown skirt that had brought her luck in the blue rooms of Faranzer. Cara wore a similar outfit. Nigel, Dael, Eyerthrein, Cade, Big Jon, and Kyrsstina dressed normally. Vanni, Eomore, Lyana Rikmon, and Boomer were warriors and wore armor and weaponry. Vanni, Eomore, and Boomer wore chain mail, while Lyana preferred leather armor. Boomer switched to a short sword. Vanni held Exeter, but one of Exeter’s strong points was her simplicity. Eomore was highly skilled with the rapier he carried. Lyana carried a long sword. The simple appearance of Roscoe and Knarra’s Robes of Sagain belied their complexity.

Rancide was a large town. Erinnia, Cara, Cyttia, Knarra, Lyana, and Kyrsstina received many offers of companionship as they walked along. The group followed the advice of Otho McNeil and searched for the establishment of Morck Bhroades.

“We are attracting a lot of attention,” Nigel said.

“It’s Cyttia! There’s nobody like her here,” Eyerthrein said.

“That’s right! Cyttia! She’s the answer. Cyttia, can you dance?” Nigel said.

“What are you talking about Nigel?’ the young Draith asked.

“The taverns are always looking for dancers. You will keep attention from the rest of our group. You can hire on as a dancer,” Nigel added.

“I can’t dance, Nigel,” Cyttia protested.

“Sure you can,” Dael injected. “Your movements are artistic. Just practice your flips and kicks. You are beautiful!”

Nigel said, “Then it’s settled. I see the sign of Bhroades’s establishment ahead. Cyttia and I will go in and proposition the innkeeper.”

Cyttia protested, “Nigel! I’m not going to…unless it’s with my life-mate!”

“That’s not what I meant! Your father would squash me if I even considered…it’s pretend. We want to create a diversion while the others try to learn something of the Dark Elves. I have greatest respect for you, my princess,” Nigel responded.

“Oh! OK,” Cyttia agreed. “If all I have to do is work out. But if one of these grimy weasels touches me, I’ll slap him into tomorrow!”

“You guys try to gather information that will lead us to the Dark Elves. We’ll attract their attention.” Nigel said as he took Cyttia by the hand and started toward the Dead End Inn.

Nigel laughed. He watched the Easterners walk away then untied the reins of their horses from the stable, slapped the animals on the rear, and shooed the animals to freedom.

“They’ll have a surprise when they get back,” Nigel said. “Those horses already have new owners.”

Knarra asked, “How did you do with the negotiations with the dock master?”

“Oh, that went well. He will watch the canoes till we return,” Nigel said.

“How do you know that?” Roscoe asked.

“I told him you were Boomer’s brother and that he would be cursed if he takes advantage of the mentally disadvantaged,” Nigel said.

“You’re really enjoying this aren’t you Louffette?” Boomer said.

“What’s the gripe? He fell for it! You two do look like brothers!” Nigel chuckled.

Cara intervened, “Behave, Nigel. You did a good job! The dock master has sent ten armed men to guard the outriggers.”

Nigel stopped laughing and reported, “I gave him one hundred Dakin and told him there would be a thousand more if we return and find the canoes unharmed. That’s two season’s pay for most here.”

“Do you have a thousand Dakin?” Erinnia asked.

“I will before we leave town,” Nigel said confidently.

It was hot.

“We’re going to attract attention because of these dark cloaks,” Cyttia remarked. “Why don’t we secure our things and explore the town?”

“Some of us need weapons, Cyttia,” Vanni answered.

“She has a point,” Cara said.

Erinnia said, “Cover me!”

The others gathered around the elf and she cast a spell- Hallucinatory Forest. The forest appeared perfectly natural and adjoined the normal woods near the outskirts of town. The spell covered a area forty by forty foot area.  For good measure Erinnia placed a Wall of Thorns in the center of the Hallucinatory Forest to surround their items. Roscoe placed a Magick Mouth on the Wall of Thorns.

If someone staggered into the Hallucinatory Forest and found the Wall of Thorns the Mouth would say “Your mother’s blood is upon you if you disturb these thorns.”

Finally Kyrsstina cast Invisibility upon the center of the area.

The extra goods were secure.

River traffic increased as they approached Rancide. They saw all manner of crafts. Small flatboats were most common but there were canoes and some more elaborate boats. There were roads on both sides of the river and frequent docks. The city-state Rancide was old. She had endured many conflicts.  There were still standing sections of walls that had been unable to deter earlier invaders. There were no great armies in the East now.  At least they knew of none. The Baron Munch Housen’s family had dominated the politics of Rancide for ten generations. The current Baron was strong but not charismatic. He was shrewd and had come out ahead in most of his dealings with the other Barons. He had a force of well paid mercenaries that kept the general order.

The taverns of Rancide were frequented by riff raff and hard working patrons. The innkeepers hired “regulators” to maintain order in their establishments. Morck Bhroades was a cagy and successful merchant. He claimed to have the oldest inn in Rancide. The Dead End Inn was said to stand at the same site of the ancient Do Drop Inn from which the assassin Tigarn disappeared centuries before. Morck played on these stories to increase the prestige of his establishment. If competitors got too successful, they might meet with an accident- a fire, a robbery, a broken leg, or some misfortune. Travelers were always at risk in Rancide- travelers minimized their risk by staying at the oldest and most heavily guarded inns. A few Dakin in the right place always helped.

Nigel bartered with the dock master. The bluewood outriggers were drawing a lot of attention. So were the females. The locals were particularly interested in Cyttia. None had ever seen a Draith. Although only half-Draith Cyttia bore the dominant traits of her father’s people. She towered over the Easterners. Only Big Jon was taller. Her long white locks contrasted with her bronze skin. She had some unmistakably elfish features and many eyes wandered over her powerful physique. Cara, Erinnia, Kyrsstina, Knarra, and Lyana Rikmon tried to remain inconspicuous. Beauty was unfortunately hard to overcome. Roscoe leaned on his staff. He didn’t have to work hard to appear to be an elderly traveler. Eyerthrein and Dael shuffled their sandals, kicked dirt, and pretended to make small talk. Big Jon Loxly was taller than most of the Easterners but his simple garb fit in well. Vanni and Eomore pretended to be father and son; in some ways it was easy because they were father and son; in other ways it was difficult because they were king and prince; they created a ruse by wearing the simple clothes they had obtained in Three Forks. Cade blended in easily; he was similarly dressed to the many small groups of elves coming and going. Boomer stood out like a sore thumb.

Several roguish Easterners gathered around the dwarf.

The gruffest easterner said, “You aren’t from around here are you shortie?”

“I’ve heard that dwarves are sneaky little cowards,” another added.

“I’m thirsty. Why don’t you buy me, no, buy us, drinks?” another said.

Nigel finished his bartering and rushed over to Boomer. He spoke to the Easterners.

“Fellows, please don’t take advantage of my servant. He is mentally challenged. He can only perform simple tasks. Here, go have some drinks,” Nigel said as he gave the burly men a handful of Dakin.

The Easterners did not realize that those same Dakin had resided in their own pockets a few moments earlier. Nigel’s pick pocketing skills were second to none.

“He does look rather pitiful,” the first easterner said as he looked at Boomer.

Nigel continued, “Yes. There’s no sport in picking on him. I‘ll have him clean up after your horses. Go. Enjoy yourselves.”

The easterner slapped Nigel on the back and laughed. They walked away.

Boomer was steaming as he said, “Dawg gone you, Louffette!! You’re lucky I promised Knarra and Cara not to fight unless I had too. I’m fixing to kick your butt!”