The Sigils of Meshtun

Game Session 1
Year 1, Summer 1-?

DM

The Bearer of the Sigil of Heroics will keep this blog up to date. Other Bearers may send material as well, especially references to their particular histories. Please forward all your entries for this blog to the DM.

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Getting started
All adventures must begin somewhere

DM

The starting point

The adventure starts in the Sea Realm of Enyen, in Nesena Town, not far from the Wild Lands to the east.

The Year is 1, and it’s the First Day of Summer – the longest day of the year and a holiday – traditionally an auspicious and happy occasion! A circus pulled into town this morning and has been entertaining the crowds all day.

The sun is low in the sky, and many travelers find themselves at the Inn of the Golden Snake, Map, tired and thirsty:

a dwarven male named Flint “Doc” Gemsplitter (Andrew-Kriticos)

a human male named Kaj of the Sea Realms of Enyen (James-jakim)

a warforged construct named Banyan (Ray-tholias)

a gnome male named Indore (Tom-tomtomettom)

a half-elven male named Navarro (Jesse-jesse)

an elven male named Dweniden (Eric-elraver)

a human male named Yor’ik Ki’roy (Howard-frothbeard)

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The Sigils Come Together (Episode 1)
"We must save the alcohol!" - Navarro

It began like many tales in those lands that are besieged by monsters both great and fearsome, or lowly and skulking in the shadows… in a tavern. Today, that tavern was a part of the Inn of the The Golden Snake, a sizable establishment for the small town of Nesena.

Disparate folks who had just cast off the bonds of a comfortable life in exchange for what could be had from a life of adventure, what would soon become a band of brothers was as of yet, strangers. Yet each was called to Nesena, and not just the town, but the Golden Snake, and all at the same time. Some would call it coincidence, others fate, still more perhaps, the will of the gods themselves. Time would tell, but that is getting ahead of ourselves in this tale…

Today was the first day of summer, and a great celebration was taking place. Nesena’s Tears were flowing like water in the goblets of townspeople, glad for a moment to be happy and content, at least for a little while. The first to arrive of our band of warriors were three, as different as water is to fire and earth to air.

Navarro, a half-elf bard who seemed to take little seriously except fine drink and finer music. Yor’ik, the scarred human warrior of wisdom, whose blades call forth powers most men would not consider possible. Dweniden, an Elven Invoker of Bahamut, loud in his praise of his God and steadfast in his determination to serve.

They chose their seats, ordered their drinks, and caught the eyes of singers and mysterious elves alike. More soon arrived…

Kaj, the Human Rogue with a taste for the spoils of adventure, eager to reap rewards and the attention he so directly demands. Flint “Doc” Goldsplitter, the Dwarven Warlord… once a guide to tourists, he realized his comfortable life had no future and now bends his considerable knowledge to the arts of war, ever smiling in the face of adversity. Indore the skittish, Gnome Wild Sorcerer extraordinare, a compellingly frightful creature with the powers of chaotic magic running literally through his veins. Last but entirely not least, this Gnome’s companion…

In through the door, ducking his considerable frame to make the passage inside, comes the being that is called Banyan. This is appropriate, for like the tree, he is gigantic, strong, and just to see him demands attention. He is like no other creature in the known world. He is a living golem, seemingly born of nature itself. He is a Warforged, called to the duty of the Warden. Those who stand in… his?... way, soon discover he is as impassable as the trunk of the tree he is named for.

All these are within the Golden Snake, and though some notice each other for some strange commonality, it is not yet that they were to discover that they had a common bond. Not until…

“FIRE!” Was the call, as the creatures raided the inn and threw their torches to set the bar ablaze. The first monsters in, murdered unsuspecting patrons as if they were nothing worth considering in the first place. The warriors within, could not abide this, and though still separate, they sprang into action. With each other as the only ones who chose to fight back, they had to rely on each other to win the day… it almost seemed like instinct to them.

Those first inside, even after the Invoker who called upon Bahamut made a few ineffective but dazzling displays of lightning, were easily dispatched. However, more were to come. They were seen to be Goblins, and they had Hobgoblin friends. As the battle was joined, each of the warriors who fought together felt different somehow… that which brought them together was calling upon them now.

The fireworks of the celebration outside grew louder and closer… one among them called out, “Those aren’t fireworks!” Then the unspeakable happened, one of the torches smashed a potent mix of liquors on the shelves behind the bar and set that volatile concoction ablaze! Navarro the Bard would not have any of this and cried in desperation, “We must save the alcohol!”

After those warriors were finished with these vicious murders, and Dweniden had bribed the frightened commonfolk that had not yet fled to help put out the fires, the battle continued outside. Those were indeed, not fireworks. Outside was a cart being dragged by a horrible beast. First to engage it was the Elven follower of Bahamut, and calling on the rage of his deity, brought lightening to bare upon the infidels, bursting one of their barrels of explosive compound and causing them to abandon their charge, leaving the massive beast of a creature tethered to that flaming cart of death, calling out to be cut free, so he could bite and fight and club the enemy. One among the group knew him to be an Ogre… but with Goblin-kind? This made no sense… they all shared something that too was noticed however, the symbol of a Red Hand, an ancient symbol belonging to a band of monsters once set on domination long ago.

The bound Ogre threw a weapon at one of our story’s heroes… and missed with a self-depreciating shout along the lines of: “Me suck!” But soon untied himself from his burden and joined the fray fully. On the other side of the building where much of the combat was taking place, alone our friend the Dwarf was fighting a band of two alone and without aid. Though brave, he did fall to his wounds… only to be revived by the brave aid of Navarro’s Majestic Word! Then together, along with the momentarily brave Indore (though he might consider it a moment of uncharacteristic insanity, as he took an arrow for his trouble), these three fought the foe who would use uneven numbers to their advantage, and instead conquered them with superior power. One particularly tenacious minion among them… but even he could not stand up to the group’s might.

Meanwhile, during all this, inside the swift Kaj ducked from window to window attempting to get an advantageous firing solution upon the most perceptive and watchful Ogre probably known to the world at large. Though the Rogue still did plenty of damage to the large beast as he admired the artwork he had so… carefully crafted in the tavern ceiling. He was sure that one day a constellation in the sky would be born in its design.

The unshakable Banyen stood toe to toe with the Ogre, unphased by facing such an obviously deadly foe. Aided by Dweniden’s prayers, the bolts of Kaj, and Yor’ik’s blade magics, the Ogre was finally felled… the rest of the Goblinoids with him. Though the town was still aflame, the foe that had breached the Northern Gate was dead or repelled.

Approached by the Captain of the Guard, Mairit Ken’til, an Elven woman of great beauty, the group that had just fought together found themselves addressed as one. As they acknowledged that battle, heroic deed, and perhaps fate, had brought them together, they admitted this to the ethereal Elf, and as one felt a growing burden be eased… replaced with a new sense of purpose. She questioned them on their strengths, of body and of will, and satisfied with their answers, welcomed the warriors who aided in the struggle on this holiday, to feast and rest with the soldiers of Nesena on this evening. The following day, there was to be an interrogation of a captured murder of the attacking horde.

The feast was joined heartily, and as they set into their meals and wines, they began the fervent discussion on what to call themselves…

...but what of these sigils that they seem to bare… what of this attack by the so-called Red Hand… what of the mysterious Halfling and Elf woman that were watching their battle with great interest… what of this fate that has brought them together in the Golden Snake in small Nesena Town… what of the circus workers currently without a boss now all stranded here… what of all of this?

Perhaps they will live to find out.

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The Amateen Keep (Episode Two)
Shurikens are better than knifes.

“The Marked Ones,” it seemed would be the choice. Perhaps it was the alcohol.

Mair’it, the next morning, called upon The Marked Ones to see the damage still smoldering, and to speak of a mission. Townspeople are kidnapped, it seems, and the town guard is currently in defensive repair mode. The group of flung-together heroes are the only ones available to take care of this problem, and they seem eager in fact, to accomplish the task. Towards this end, Mair’it reveals that they have a goblin captive, an ornery sort not yet broken, if the group wants a crack at interrogation. It seems they did. Together the group made their way down to the barrack’s prison, a mess of a goblin still hanging on to life down below. Guarded well, more to see to it that he does not die than prevent his far more unlikely escape.

Kaj, though scary in his own right, has no real effect on the goblin murderer with words and gestures designed to bring about fear and cowardice. Banyan, perhaps in this regard far more compassionate than the Invoker of Bahamut would have been, heals the prisoner of his wounds. Though this lightens the move, it is not until Navarro’s golden tongue is turned to the task that the Marked group begins to see an opportunity. A quick meal for the goblin later, Flint and Navarro tag-teaming him emotionally with words of truth and of lies, and finally the monstrous humanoid began to speak. Here were his words:

“Our goblin leader, Shinruth of the Red Hand, is holed up in a ruined keep 35 miles or so to the east. It is called Amateen Keep. He is forming a new goblin army to reclaim the glory of the ancient Red Hand (a fearsome goblin army of 100 years ago that terrorized the surrounding area). We have come to an agreement with the undead that inhabit the keep, they leave us alone and we provide them with ‘food’ (prisoners from town).”

Along with a crudely drawn map, they knew they had got all they could from the prisoner. Yor’ik, took this time to pick his own thoughts on the nature of the Red Hand, and some memories of his studies took hold. In historic times, he recalled, the Red Hand were indeed a fearsome battle horde of the goblin kind. But something seemed inconsistent with the new group who had taken the same name. Either by mistake, or some dark purpose, they had painted the hand of their symbols, upside down.

Now more comfortable in the town with this gruesome business behind them, it was time for The Marked Ones to take the opportunity to see to personal matters. Speaking to those on the street, they find the subjects of their queries.

Dweniden and Kaj went to speak to Narda, Justicar of Bahamut’s church in town. Apparently, one of the kidnapped was a junior cleric of her rank, by the name of Jalissa.

The Invoker swore that Bahamut’s charge would be returned by any means in His name, if only to himself and his god. In exchange for their kind words and vows, Narda gave them a curative potion, said to reverse the ravages of war on one’s flesh… if only slightly. But of course, it is never that simple… perhaps her mother taught her the proper application of guilt in attempt to get what you want. After all, after being given a gift by a holy woman, who can say no to a simple request. Even if that request is to rid a holy place of prayer and healing of the Kobold foe that infests the land with their apocryphal filth. In return, she offered a letter of introduction to the Temples of Bahamut in Enyen and Pard’lu. Dweniden knew the worth in this, and thought it to himself at least how such letters could help to advance his position in the church. Finally, before the two left her, the Justicar noticed Kaj’s marking and had this to say: “Those sigils remind me of ancient legends from thousands of years ago – but you should talk to the Teachers of History at the seminaries of Enyen or Pard’lu.”

Father Pelor, aptly named and placed as Pelor would be among the poor was visited by the Natural Brute and the Nervous One… that would be Banyan and Indore, of course. On the way, stopping to confer with the Circus folks briefly to exchange word of their bosses death. This proved unnecessary, as the word had already spread, and some had already fled.

The Giant and his friend moved on to the temple and found Father Pelor there. He quickly took note of Banyan’s marking upon his forehead and claimed some knowledge of ancient stories of those who were ‘chosen’, remarking that Justicar Narda would be the one to speak to about this in more detail. Of course, after their chat on the nature of the marking’s, a Priest is not just going to let a group of able bodied adventures move on without seeking their assistance. This came in the form of helping a poor farmer, a member of the Temple, whose water supply has somehow become tainted. In exchange for their assistance, a scroll that contained the power to banish disease was offered.

Of note, was Flint’s finding that the only real Magician in town was working on some kind of Dragon Burial site just outside of town. His curiousity piqued, Flint could not help but make that visit to his man, called Xelkor.

Flint arrived at the peculiar building, a single story thing with a tall tower in the middle… typical actually, once you consider the inhabitant. No one seems interested in talking until Flint came around the back, and the cook apparently has no problem with disturbing the old magician, as she lets him right in. Xelkor, who seems to have left all his better days far behind him, seemed willing to talk for a time. After admitting his interest in the burial site, he remarks that he had hired an archaeologist for the task of excavating it. This man however, has been missing for more than a week now… the valet sent after him also now missing a couple of days. This can’t be good. Well, but of course the old man offered something in return to discover his employee’s fates. That thing being a letter of introduction to the Imperial School of Magic in Pard’lu. No small thing to someone so inclined to the Arcane Arts. Upon a hunch, Flint reveals his sigil to Xelkor. This invokes excitement from the Magician, who rambles a bit about legends and Gods. Of note however, was his story of Neseananna, a nymph who live here long ago and whom the town of Nesena was named for. She too, bore such a marking.

Next, the names Ninaran and Thorn came to light. The latter being a Halfling (whom the group realized was watching them the previous day) who leads a dangerous gang, considered to be a psychopath, he is not to be toyed with. Ninaran, the Elven woman watching them as well, is a huntress living near, but separate from town. Preferring a seeming neutrality, she spends most of her time alone and further information on her was difficult to come by.

Navarro believed he could perhaps find common ground with the man called Thorn. It took some doing to track down his hangout near the slums around Pelor’s temple, but the reception was unpleasant. Recognizing the bard from the battle on the previous day, Thorn seemed uninterested in speaking, setting his band upon the half-elf. Navarro is a slippery bard (some might call him spoony), and was able to evade their attack.

Finally, it was time to depart.

Towards the eastern Wild Lands The Marked Ones traveled, following the main road that was like a journey through the skeleton of an old creature made from bones of hollow abandoned farms. Things go from barren to desolate soon enough, but it was in a valley that things got interesting…

Ambush! Kobolds, not unlike the group mentioned tainting the sacred Waterfall, attack them in the valley. Three soldiers armored and coming to attack directly, one squirrelly bastard with javelins and even a magic user of some sort hurtling small orbs of flame at the group from afar.

The soldiers are no match for the Warforged’s resolve, and though they cause him damage, they can not pierce his defenses while the rest of the Marked Ones in turn rain down pain from behind the wall they call Banyan.

Yor’ik notes that the Magic User, seeing less effect from his side’s fight, calls out to Ninaran, seeking help. The Elf Woman of that name is noticed them, watching the battle from safe distance and cover, again seemingly neutral in this contest. When the group is starting to really turn the tides of this battle, the woman seemingly fades back into the wood and is gone. Though the Warriors sent by Nesena are victorious, the Magic User did evade them as well. Some coins of value scavenged, icons of the dark god Bane uncovered… the group leaves the escaped Kobold and Elf for another day.

On down the road they travel further, until night winds convince them that setting camp is the wise course of action. Guards are posted, but their watches are thankfully uneventful. The next morning concludes the journey to Amateen Keep, a tumbled, ivy-covered ruin. If not for the fresh tracks, one would easily conclude it was abandoned. Following these trails leads to a hole, through which one would find themselves underground in an old part of the Keep. After a thorough sweep by Flint, the Marked Ones’ made their way down.

Below, the ground finds themselves at a room serving as a junction, shaped in the classic ‘T’. The welcoming committee is a readied group of guards. Among them, a pair of hobgoblins, and two less physically threatening goblins with cowards crossbows as their tools of battle. The room, illuminated by two torches on their stands, serves as the grounds for this fight. As the Marked One’s make their way inside this room, one of the cowardly goblins opens a door beside him and activates some kind of trap attached to those torches.

The two hobgoblins together are troublesome to the Heroes, landing much of their blows and dodging the incoming attacks gracefully. Meanwhile, those goblins plink away at the group with bolts. Banyan squares off with the Hobgoblins, this considerable visage difficult to ignore. The Bard and the Rogue, a team seemingly made to work together, take on the crossbow wielding bastards while Flint supports the group as best he can with distracting attacks and cures that serve to frustrate the efforts of their foes.

Only now doe the purpose of torches’ movement become apparent, as seemingly randomly they flare and a powerful arc of flame tunnels through the air between them. As they move on tracks, however, predicting their pattern proves basic to the party and they are able to keep ahead of this particular danger… though the distraction from the battle at hand is rather unwelcome.

The monsters they face, well aware of their “home’s” defenses, keep clear of the flames as well. The goblins, one of which making his cowardly ways apparent with an attempt to escape, are soon dispatched. The fleeing one taken before he could make good this escape with a shuriken to the back. Those things were well worth the purchase, apparently.

Now, unified with no other distractions, the group focuses on the hobgoblins. Difficult is the task of dividing and concurring them, and so they stop trying. Realizing that their armor really is the thing that keeps them so well protected, the Marked Ones rely now on their abilities that don’t care if one is wearing armor or not. This tactic, effective, quickly ends this conflict. Nothing of value is found except perhaps the glory of victory.

Searching this first room of the underground keep, the group discovers it seems to be in fact, the way down into a old crypt, with the two passages leading either to the family Orodoom or the family Dethnell… sound like nice people. In fact, some in the group recall these names as nobles of old, allies to Amateen, who themselves completely disappeared from the local histories. There are three doors from this place, and each is checked.

One heads down a long tunnel, void of light until the stairs heading down at it’s very end. It seems as is someone or something moves down below.

The next doorway reveals a short passage, bending towards the north. It too is dark and reveals the sounds of movement.

The third door however, another passage that turns north, seems to give away the group with its opening. Inside goblin voices call in their foul tongue… the enemy knows that the group has arrived, and are preparing themselves for battle. While the goblins gather themselves, The Marked Ones too gather their wits and heal their scratches.

The battle will be again joined. The goblins are just ahead, awaiting the blades and magics of the Marked Ones. Who knows just what foe lies in the depths of this place, however. The group is about to find out…

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The Marked Ones (Kaj's view)

Mumbles to himself on the hard dungeon floor. Finally a breather. She kept asking us about a party name. I looked around these assorted characters and noticed the strange marks, kin to the blue marks on my sword hand, and then someone mumbled “the marked ones.”

So there we have it. The marked ones.

I purchased some shurikens at the town. The daggers had a way of flying to the ceiling last time I went into battle. These aerodynamic blades were promised to fly true by the shopkeeper.

Went to the shrine of Bahamut and asked as much as I could about the lost member of the flock. Was able to jowel the head priest out of some potion and promises of further rewards if we got the job done.

The trip out of town and into the ruins was highlighted by an attack of the lizard men. The shurikens did fly true. Afterwards, someone mentioned that the elf girl was watching again in the woods. Someone has to nick that skirt before we all end up in the Hoary Man’s pot.

The entrance to the dungeon was guarded by a couple of the goblins and pair of hobbies. The fire belcher was no problem, but the two hobbies put up one hell of a fight. Would hate to meet a full gang of them. One of the gobs tried to make a run of it, but my shuriken again found its mark.

I finally got bloodied in this mess. Wondering how long my luck will hold out. I wish that gnome, dwarf and ugly priest would pull their weight. We sure will need them going down the corridor…The gobbies know we’re a visiting and we won’t have the jump on em this time.

I guess it won’t hurt to say a prayer to Bahamut before we take the long path down.

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Portal Panic (Kaj's view)

“Coup De Grace The Other Gnome” – Kaj

I knew the passageway down the left held Hell’s horror. I must be traveling with the clumsiest crew in Meshtun. We followed the hobbies blood trail down the dark and narrow. We discover a simple pit trap with hanging rope to swing across—simpler than jumping riggings on a rowboat.

We overcome goblins, hobgoblins, kobolds, hexers, and a bloody ogre. But the party is laid low by a rope. The elf, dwarf, and near half the crew go down the pit trying to cross it. I decide fate has called it and actually use the rope to climb down, rather than my mates’ head dives into the abyss.

In the stinkin cesspool, we notice that the floor is covered with shrooms of various colors, and two of the largest lizards I have ever heard described. The crew sucks at climbing rope, but make quick work of the two drakes (as I am later informed by our naturalist).

After being stymied by a barred door (the goblins on the other side did not believe my imitation of a distressed female goblin), we proceeded to the side room where we were confronted by a phantom tapestry and yellow goo.

Someone had the bright idea of messing with the witchcraft and two swarths jumped out of the tapestry and proceeded to waste away before our eyes.

We took out the goo, and then became acquainted with a couple of spooks in what appeared to be a burial chamber. At the end of the passageway two gnomes put up a hell of fight. We pounded one senseless and demanded surrender from his friend. His friend decides discretion is the better part of valor, and I yell out “coupe de grace the other gnome.” Hopefully, that will put the little bugger’s mind in perspective when we question him about the prisoners.

I still have not been able to rest up and the haphazard bandages are covering my wounds are starting to fall off. Would like to rest, but keep thinking about all the other prisoners down here waiting for the monsters to eat em, feed em, or gods know what. It was so much simpler on the seas.

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Return to Enyen

We’ve done alot, me and this crew of ne’er do wells. We cleared out the hobgoblins of the upside down fist and then went to the Falls to help out the grand ol’ church of Bahamut. After clearing the area of the kobolds, we entered the caves behind the falls. We discussed who would go in first, and everyone kept staring at me. Perhaps all my black clothing, throwing knives, and felt-bottomed boots gave these guys an unfortunate impression that my occupation involved skulking in shadows, when every upstanding citizen knows that I am simple sailor.

Anyhow, I entered the cave by my lonesome and faced a practical army of the kobolds. My crew heard my brave screaming through the waterfalls and entered the fray.

After clearing out the majority of the dogfaces, we chased the leaders to the back chambers and discovered to our dismay, a green scaled dragon from folklore. I thought the dark lady would have us for sure that day, but the warforged was able to knock the dragon over and the rest of the crew had a fine time whittling the drake down. He tried to escape with his stinkin lady-bitch, but good ol Flint-the-dragon-slayer, clipped him in mid-flight.

We returned to town with souvenirs and I approached my fence, ahem, merchant for commercial transactions.

Was able to pick up a nice rapier, named “Luck Be Damned.”

The crew discussed where we would head, and the majority of the crew selected that shining city of Enyen. On the way, I divulged my past improprieties with a young lady who happened to have been wed to some captain of the city guards, blah blah blah. I informed my party, in full disclosure, that the captain had taken offense at my carnal knowledge of his dame. His dame not so much.

Can’t wait to get to the City.

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Touch My Ball

Ahh…Returning to the shining star of the inland sea, Enyen. Not wanting my adventuring mates surprised to find a greeting of daggers upon our entry to the City, I confessed several indiscretions committed by Yours truly several months back involving the wives and mistresses of Enyen more notable citizens. The construct named Banyan seemed a bit confused when I explained the process by which a man ruts his partner, funny Banyan. The invoker seemed aghast also, the missionary.

Entering the outskirting villages, I was unable to learn anything new regarding recent events in the city. The local yokels did get us to agree, over my strenuous objections, to cleat out the graveyard of an infestation for 50 lousy gold pieces and a ham breakfast (Crikes—our rates are getting dirt cheap). The graveyard was infested by fell creatures jumping out of a magic circle surrounding a black ball. The elf invoker, dwenadoo-odo, dwe ni, “D”, went into the black ball and disappeared.

After clearing out the graveyard, including a flaming skull-thing, I touched the black ball and knew that I, Kaj, was “master of the Ball.” I tried to get everyone of the group to touch my ball. That gnome shit refused to touch my ball. Banyan would have nothing to do with my ball. Under pressure, Flint reluctantly touched my ball. Me and flint entered a dark place. . .

Next entry, you’ll learn that Kaj is now a rapist. So long mates.

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Wanted for 150gp

Getting closer to the city, I learned from passerby and inn patrons that a notorious scoundrel is wanted dead or alive for the raping of Captain Dumain’s lady. The reward offered is 150 G.P. I am seething. That is an embarrassing amount for my head. That is horse-thief territory. Nevermind the fact that half of Enyen has “raped” the good lady Dumain. Nevermind that Lady Dumain apparently is a serial rape victim and that she always scheduled her rapes during the time that the good impotent Captain Dumain was at watch.

The only ones that could believe this horse dung are the priests in the City. I was “upped” by the Shadow Guild for my efforts with Lady Dumain. Hopefully there is honor among thieves and my mates have stood up for my good name as a murdering philandering, but not raping, scoundrel. We rogues do have standards.

I have advised my comrades that the best approach is to get into the lower wards and make our introductions to the Guild without skulking around the City waiting for the Hoary Man to chop us up into stew.  I could improvise a disguise and go under my psuedoname of "Jack." Perhaps each of us should temporarily adopt travelling names for our time in the City.
I was mulling these shade thoughts when upon entering a walled town, a small lass runs up screaming her head off about her mother being attacked.  Banyan, without any thought to our prior discussions regarding well-planned approaches, and scouting the scene, charges into the village.  The gang runs after and we are besieged immediately by dwarves that appeared to have been dipped in a barrel of Hell.

This was close. Lightnin-Gnome couldn’t hit anything all day. D went down. Barrels were blowing up in our faces. I was beedin out on the dirt street. The dragon slayer, Doc was busy trying to keep us off the Lady’s doorstep. Banyan was finally able to knock the head of the evil dwarves off a roof and we stuck him with the butcher’s bill.

Even after this near miss, I can’t get over the fact that they only offered 150 gp for my head.

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Life in the City

During the party’s stay at Mercy House, Kaj reveals the following to his fellow Marked One’s:

Places of Interest for Kaj:

Kaj spent most of his life, from early teens through the age of 21, frequenting the docks and the slums of Enyen. Occasionally, traveling to better parts of the cities on “errands” for the Guild or Captain Barraka. Places of special note for Kaj include the following:

House of Mercy: it is just a plain roof with no walls, supervised by Old Marm Issiid, a blind elderly lady who hands out food to the beggar children of Enyen. Mommy “Iis” was the difference between being hungry and starving to death when Kaj was a young street urchin. Mercy House is supported by various charities and, unbeknownst to the general public, protected by the Guild. The guild law provides that “no blood is shed at Mercy House.”

The Floating Anchor: is a rundown tavern on the docks that also contains a lower level accessing the water line. A perfect place for smuggling goods into and out of Enyen. Was a frequent spot for Her Bright Ladyship to anchor. The proprietor is Cars Flatbottom, a dwarven male who was forced to work on a ship in his younger years. Cars is an excellent fence and knows how to make a profit from Enyen’s seedier population. Persons of note:

Raast Baraka, Captain of Her Bright Ladyship, half-orc, late 40’s. A grim silent figure who brooks no challenge to his authority as complete master of the ship. Carries a huge cutlass. Few outside the crew know that Baraka is a half-orc. His huge beard and bushy eyebrows cover up a lot of his orcish features. Only a close inspection reveals pronounced canines. Commanded a crew made up by goblins, and the riff raff of the Sea Realms. It is known among his officers that Baraka never purchased his ship, but acquired it by force of arms. For the past decade, Baraka has made profit from transporting and selling contraband, stolen goods, and other illicit cargo. Baraka is famouse for being able to harbor at any port of call, even without a harbormaster’s knowledge.

Ulfer Vurmstag, first mate, barbarian, mid 30’s. A huge tanned barbarian from the Northlands. Kaj first met Ulfer when he attempted to a fugitive passenger to transport, without approval from the Shadow Guild. Young Kaj impressed Baraka with his ability to browbeat Ulfer and the crew to accept the charter, and Baraka ordered Kaj press-ganged into the crew as additional payment for the fare. Ever since their first meeting, Ulfer and Kaj have harried each other. Kaj learned to respect Baraka and learned from Baraka how to earn respect from a crew of cut-throats. Kaj gained the captain’s favor and was ultimately promoted to second mate. In the end, Ulfer’s resentment boiled over and he attacked Kaj during a port call in Enyen. Kaj beat the drunken Ulfer in front of the crew at a dock tavern and Kaj sliced his ear off. The Captain arrived at the scene and pronounced his judgment. The fight was off the boat, so it was not appropriate for him to issue ship justice. However, Kaj was kicked off the crew for attacking a superior officer.

Remi, rogue, human, mid 20’s, member of the Red Rats. Childhood friend of Kaj when he was growing up among the squalor of the City. Kaj, along with Remi, joined the Red Rats, a youth gang that controlled the docks area of the city. The Red Rats focused on stealing cargo sitting at the docks. Eventually, the Red Rats drew the attention of the Shadow Guild, one of Enyen’s underworld guild of assasins, prostitutes, pimps, fences, confidence men, and thieves. A dozen Guildsmen arrived at the Red Rats’ location and offered the Rats a choice: join the Guild as a local franchise, or oppose the Guild. The Rats agreed on the spot, happy to move up in the world. The Rats quickly learned that associating with the Guild had a heavy price. “Murder, cheat, steal, and rob, but always offer a half portion to the Guild” was the only rule harshly enforced by the Guild. Remi helped Kaj escape the city after the incident with the Captain’s Wife.

Vanis, Femals human early 20’s. Was a member of the Red Rats, along with Kaj and Remi. Vanis became a little sister to Kaj. When the Rats fell short of the accounting by the Guild, the local chapter boss demanded Vanis for his whore parlor in payment. Kaj argued with Remi against the payment. Kaj took Vanis to the docks, along with all his money (a handful of gold pieces), to the only ship that could sail past the reach of the Shadow Guild, Her Bright Ladyship. Although Kaj was press-ganged, Captain Baraka kept his word and delivered Vanis to a religious settlement, at the outrage of Vanis. Kaj promised to return and make Vanis a lady.

Scandalous Affairs:

Although Kaj has committed many crimes of the heart in his young and lustful career as a rake of Enyen, these are the more memorable feats:

Madame Anise Dumain, wife of Sir Durin Dumain, Captain of the City Guard for the Merchant District. Anise is in her mid 30s, buxom and lascivious. Kaj was easily able to seduce Anise on one of her slumming trips near the docks. Kaj was also able to learn the patrol schedule for the merchant district and was in the midst of repaying Madame Dumain when her impotent husband barged into the scene—coitus interruptus. Kaj was able to escape the pursuit of the entire district guard, but only with help from his Red Rat pack.

Therrila of the Seven Veils, half-elven entertainer, dancer, and concubine of Orsk Mossin, Under Boss of the Shadow Guild. In one of his craziest act, Kaj approached Therrila after a night of drinking and actually scored the bedroom dance. After sobering up, did Kaj realize that he had just diddled the woman belonging to the second most powerful man in the Shadow Guild. Every step taken by Kaj in Enyen echos with the repercussion of what will happen if Orsk finds out that Kaj has rubbed his favorite rubarb.

Ankaras the Flesh Weaver, a hag of the slums, with flesh “condition.” Ankara is ugly to the extreme. Ankara also provides healing and medical services to Guild Members when they are unable to approach more legitimate providers. Kaj met a beautiful maiden on a fool-moon and wa surprised at the ease in which he was able to get up her dress. Several days later, Kaj awoke in Ankaras hovel, to her shrieking laughter. Kaj has been unable to tell anyone what happened, and shudders at what he suspects happened.

Recent Developments: Upon return to the City, Kaj learned the following: Captain Dumain has posted a 150 gp reward for Kaj, dead or alive. Remi is locked up in prison, apparently as bait placed by Captain Dumain in his effort to catch Kaj. Vanis was shipped off to the Sisters of Sorrows at Doomspike Island. Orsk Mossin has moved up as head of the Shadow Guild. The Shadow Guild competes with two other organizations, one made up of halflings, and another lead by a mysterious Dark Lady. The Dark Lady has informed Kaj that she will meet to discuss the sphere.

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