Deranis

Session 5

Deranis

The orc head stopped rolling, its hideous face permanently stuck in an expression of fear and horror, its tongue sticking out. Slowly Ahmok (whose blade had just sent the orc’s head flying from its shoulders) and the rest of our group lower their swords and survey the battle scene. A remaining 2 Scorchers quickly leg it away from the bloodbath.

After cleaning up our wounds a bit and collecting the spoils of the battle (some basic orc gear and 90 or so silvers) we arranged with our captain to let us keep the orcs’ horses even though space on the Ugly Duck was already limited. The horses should get us a good coin or two. We tied up the two remaining unconscious orcs, one of them clearly the leader.

Following the battle were an uneventful couple of days and nights, in which we healed our injuries, cleaned up our gear and engaged in some personal training (I even dedicated some time on my read and write magic skills, so much has happened in the last few months that I had totally neglected my arcane studies). I even tried my luck in wheedling out some info from the orcs and only managed to get the leader’s name – Bashraka.

Dawn of the 25^th saw us on the ship’s bridge looking at a much more happening part of the river. Now a lot wider, the river had more barges and small ships plying their trade, as well as quite a number of T’Skrang fishermen. Pretty soon the outline of the docks of the outpost-city Deranis was in sight. We bid farewell to the fellow travelers of the Ugly Duck, especially to some fellow named Doriam who had taken quite a liking in our adventurous spirit and passed to us some trinkets he had hand made.

As expected from an outpost town, Deranis was one confusing mesh of settlers and traders and tradesman, merchants and porters, of every race. Everyone was buying, selling and trading, while a constant flux of new settlers sorted out their packs, another group would leave the city on their next leg of the journey. Compared to the quiet days idling on the Ugly Duck, this was quite overwhelming. We also got news from the Ugly Duck captain that he is hanging his captain’s boots and selling off the ship, maybe return to adventuring. I am sure our paths shall meet again. Also at the docks was a large T’Skrang vessel, the famous Andante, boarded on which where its even more famous adventurers, Adagio the renowned Elementalist and Captain Triel-Fin the Swordmaster.

Our stay in Deranis was meant to be a short stop while Omaron sells some goods, the money essential for his next purchase in another city. Things did not turn out that way at all.

I ended up on cargo guard duty at the docks, while Ahmok and Elessar went to ransom the orcs at the constabulary and get the bounty for the orc ears, The ransom money was quite paltry considering the risk involved and that this same orc group had already wrecked and attacked other barges upstream. Omaron was having an even worse day, as he got the bad end of vicious rumors being spread by some unknown miscreant. These totally unfounded rumors; of him being a pirate fence, or Theran sympathizer and worse made the Deranis merchants (a gullible lot let me tell you) avoid Omaron like the Red Plague. In short we where stuck. Without the money, we were at the end of the line and an increasingly frustrated Omaron asked for our help to get him out of this situation.

After a lot of asking around, bribery and threats we finally found the root of the rumor, a disrespectful inn by the name ‘White Hand’ where a human Troubadour was plying his trade with song and lyre, spreading the rumors on Omaron. From what Elessar told me afterwards, himself, Ivor and Zaphon found out the direction in which the Troubadour had fled, doubtlessly satisfied with his job and not wanting to be around when Omaron finds out. They quickly pursued him and after a long hard ride made it to a non-descript inn at a toll bridge outpost. There they cornered the bard and since he was not listening to friendly advice, he soon received painful advice from Elessar as he was making another hasty retreat. Now with the Troubadour securely bound, the trio made it back to the city. The bard confessed he was paid to spread the rumor, but did not disclose by whom (except that it was an old dwarf) or where.

Once at the city things did not go well though, the city guards obviously inquired about the harsh treatment, and the bard’s quick tongue and Ivor’s uncouth manners quickly meant that the Troubadour was out of it scot-free while Ivor had to cool off the night behind bars. Doubtlessly this will be the first night of many in lock-up for our rowdy Weaponsmith.

The situation unresolved, Ahmok and myself went again on the hunt for the minstrel, before he leaves town again. Cornering him at ‘The Inn at The End of the Road’ we conned him into drinking a bit more than he should have, and pretty quickly was dozing in bed in a room above the Inn. Quickly we sent word for Omaron to come interrogate the source of all the hassle. Next morning, Glanson (the Troubadour’s name) woke up with Omaron and Gehebu and a few of our group around his bed. We left Omaron to deal with the situation. After some time Omaron was just as unsuccessful at getting out the name of the old dwarf who paid Glanson to start the rumor and reluctantly he let the bard go.

Stuck once again, we finally opted to start our own rumor to discredit Glanson and after a whole day running around in inns, our Troubadour Ajisha was starting to get some results. That evening Omaron finally managed to sell his goods, and we pocketed the silvers from the loot and the horses. I am quite glad we will soon be out of this town.

Jarl!!

River Ambush

I managed to find a relatively dry corner beneath the main deck. All around me the sounds of the rough waters and the creaking boat were enough to keep me from concentrating on revising my spells. I put my grimoire carefully away, making sure it is packed well against the moisture. Thinking back on the voice in my head I realised that I hadn’t heard it in a while, and I was not sure whether it was a good thing or not.

My thoughts were disturbed, again, this time by crew and passengers alike who were holding vomiting competitions. Nearer to my dry corner a homogenous group huddled and told bad jokes– like how can you tell if an orc is sea-sick? Still, it was interesting to see how name givers’ attitude and behaviour change when their comfort is tested so.

Since inner solace eluded me below deck I ventured above it for some fresh air. Drummond looked rather green for a Captain, while the first mate, Eli was weathering it fine. Looking towards the horizon I spotted a column of smoke where, after I made some enquiries learned that, no smoke should be. It seemed to be coming from beyond a bend in the river, then obscured by the foliage. The worst was feared, and people were rushing to the side to see what was happening.

The fears were justified, as a barge was wrecked on the shore and on fire. This was no natural event though, for still going at it we saw a large group of orc scorchers pillaging the vessel. Orders were given to stay as far as possible and increase speed, while those of us who could hurled weapons and spells at the orcs. We managed to wound what looked like the leader, thanks in part to my trusted astral spear spell.

As we put more distance between us Drummond confided that he was certain we would see the orcs again – they would try catch the Ugly Duck as they did that barge. Consulting his charts he narrowed the two places where such another attack could occur, and one was too far off. After some debate it was decided that a party would go overland to ambush the ambushers. It was a gamble that many felt was worth taking to defend the ship and its occupants.

The ship sped onwards to our drop off point, to give us enough time to cross the thick forest. Our merry party was selected for the task, together with Zaphon as scout. He was reluctant at first, and seemed deeply suspicious. The plan was for us to surprise the ambushers as they were focused on the incoming ship. Ajisha would then go to inform the crew that we were in place.

The going was hard as we kept a fast pace. At one point I heard someone say that some sort of building was spotted, completely covered in vegetation. We had no time to investigate though.

We came upon the orcs in the late afternoon. They were busy preparing traps for the ship. We almost lost our cover when an argument broke out as to whether we should attack now, being unarmed, unarmoured, and tired from the labour, or wait for the ship, when they would be more distracted and we would have support. The latter was decided, not without complaints, and we waited.

As the orcs waited for the ship and it was spotted coming our way, Ajisha was sent to notify it, as planned. That was the only part of the plan that worked though… Our element of surprise was completely lost as they noticed us creeping behind them. Instead of fighting on the river bank, from where the crew and the rest would be able to help us, they rushed at us beyond the tree line. It was a messy affair. I was seriously wounded, having had two orcs on me from the start of combat. Out of all the ship’s occupants only Wilks came down to help us, rather unsurprisingly. After dragging for a long time the battle turned our way. From the corner of my eye I saw Ahmok decapitate his unlucky opponent, a few more of them turned tail and fled. It was all over when their leader was felled, unconscious.

The end of the day saw us tending to the injured and licking our wounds. I had a feeling, then, that many of our chronicles would be ending thus.

Destination Unknown

It is a cold and foggy dawn as we find themselves rather the worse for wear following the previous night’s skirmish with rabid wolves. Being surrounded by potential wolf soup and wolf pie aplenty, Jarl decides to put his heat food power to good use in order to start off the wounded on the road to recovery.
Asti is the worst off and Elessar concentrates his powers on the unfortunate cook – much to everyone’s relief, Asti recovers consciousness thanks to Elessar’s spell, although he remains badly wounded and out of action. As Jarl temporarily takes over creative cooking duties until Asti recovers, the merry band of adventurers remove all evidence of the canine carnage in order that Omaron’s group might stop and regain their strengths.
But it’s not long before the alarm is sounded yet again: a caravan, headed by a proud-looking elf named Jaa’ll, is heading our way. As the caravan approaches, we realise that there are two wounded soldiers and an unconscious troll adept in the group. It is immediately obvious that there are no hostile intentions and Elessar tends to the unconscious troll as the other four exchange information with Jaa’ll. The news the caravan brings with it is worrying indeed – orc scorchers were responsible for the wounding of the soldiers and troll adept, anti-troll warriors who believe that orcs are the rightful leaders and who seem to be gathering substantial support.
Would Omaron’s group be facing peril if they proceeded with their planned route? Although Jarl and Ivor seem to think that it would be more prudent to take a longer route than planned, the other three adventurers spit in the face of danger and persuade everyone else to continue as planned. Luckily, the rest of the day passes without much incident and towards dusk the whole group stops and sets up camp for the night.
It is Elessar’s and Ajisha’s turn to offer night duty services. Just when everyone else has gone to sleep Elessar hears a whisper in the darkness:
“Pssst. Can I come out? I’m not armed.”
But after the previous night’s unfortunate experience Elessar is taking no chances. He raises the alarm and his four companions immediately take a defensive stance, surrounding the stranger – one lone man and his mutt, a beautiful beast with particularly expressive eyes. The two appear harmless enough and, after taking the appropriate precautions, the five offer the man food and shelter. Lex, as the man is called, accepts with pleasure while Ajisha relaxes from guard duties long enough to tease the poor mutt to distraction.
The following day Lex leaves camp and the whole group proceeds to destination. By mid-afternoon they reach Ardagnan. The town has a big merchant outpost near the river and is protected by a drawbridge. The watchmen give the whole group a quick once-over before allowing them across. The town offers basic facilities – there is one big main road with houses and shops on either side. Omaron seeks out an inn and eventually the group stop at the Mother’s Inn, where they are offered accommodation and three square meals a day by Omaron.
We all decided to spend some time exploring the town – Ajisha enjoys a quick chat with a fellow windling and some musicians at one of the more popular taverns. Ivor visits the town’s wizard – a windling named Antar The Great. Antar makes up with attitude what he lacks for in height and, although Ivor does his best to convince Antar to teach him how to read tarot cards the two can’t agree on a decent price. Jarl, who later visits Antar with the aim of obtaining some Keesris as a surprise for Ajisha, does not meet with better luck! Elessar spends his time researching local burial customs while Ivor crosses swords in a friendly duel with another swordsmith, hoping to learn from the experience.
Throughout our stay at Ardagnan each one of us picks a particular talent and raise it to Circle 2 – most notably, Ahmok does the requisite 8-hour meditation session during a night-time swim. The last evening in Ardagnan is spent in a pleasant fashion, with our heroes enjoying some specialised muffins courtesy of Jarl – but the group’s suspicions with regards to Vistosh haven’t diminished and Ajisha attempts a spot of shadowing at night to see if Vistosh is up to anything fishy (with apologies to Ahmok). Unfortunately, she meets with scarce success as the enveloping darkness prevent her from putting her lip-reading talent to good use.
The following morning the whole group packs up their bags and embark on The Ugly Duck, which is captained by a human named Drummond. There are few other passengers on the same trip and the vessel seems to be suffering by the wily t’skrang community who are monopolising all the sea-faring business. Bad weather hits soon after the vessel sets sail and it’s a sorry bunch of decidedly unheroic-looking namegivers who scramble for shelter and attempt to keep the river-sickness at bay. All except for the t’skrang of course, who finds joy feeling the drops of fresh rain batter down on his face.
The vessel glides slowly down the river to its destination….