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Banestorm: Journey’s End

June 21, 2015 Rigil Kent 2 comments

THE inn was crowded.

Gabriel stepped through the entranceway, his entire body tense and his eyes alert. He felt naked without his armor, but it would have drawn far too many eyes; the rapier at his side was bad enough, even though more than a handful of those in the vicinity were also armed. There were too many potential threats here – by his count, there were no less than fifteen men present who knew their way around a battlefield, three of whom were at least as good as Radskyrta had been before his untimely demise – and he wanted to avoid a fight, at least for the moment. That had been, after all, one of the reasons this place had been chosen.

The innkeeper’s eyes widened with panicked recognition as Gabriel strode slowly across the common room, though that was understandable. Not long ago, after all, the man had witnessed that near disaster with the fool in the street. Gabriel idly wondered what had come of the man, then decided he did not care. If he was wise, the man was still running.

He found Auqui exactly where he expected him to be. The boy – no. That wasn’t right. He was a man now and Gabriel needed to keep that in mind. Auqui was seated in one of the corner tables, his back to the wall. Such a location provided an excellent view of the door though drawing a sword from that position would be difficult. Not impossible, but certainly difficult. He too was armed, though like Gabriel, he wore no armor. There were no indications of his new allegiances, but then, he would not wish to advertise it here, would he?.

“I am surprised you came alone,” Auqui said by way of greeting. He had resorted to his native language, but that was no surprise either given the nature of their conversation. His eyes flickered across the crowds, then settled back on Gabriel. “The sai you bore is new.”

“As is your beard,” Gabriel replied flatly. “I did not come here to reminisce. Speak your piece.” He did not bother addressing Auqui’s presumption that he was alone and recognized the instant his former apprentice recognized this fact. Auqui’s eyes narrowed very slightly and darted once more.

He listened silently as his former apprentice told his story and how he grew to learn about Zabka’s deceit. The tale about the goblin child being Christ reborn made Gabriel frown, but he said nothing. Finally, the boy fell silent and they sat quietly for a long moment. Gabriel considered – nothing his former student had told him excused some of what had happened. Kira was still dead, after all, and he knew that he would never be able to forgive him for that.

“So,” Auqui said softly. “What happens now?”

“I walk away,” Gabriel said. “You do the same. Neither of us seeks the other out.” He offered a cold smile that did not touch his eyes. “Should our paths cross again,” he said simply, “it will end in bloodshed.”

“An adequate arrangement,” Auqui replied. “I cannot speak for the other Templars – some of them will always see you as an enemy. And, of course, the Order of Talos will come for you.”

“If they find me, I will greet them will steel.” He rose – Auqui did the same, his eyes as wary as Gabriel felt – and two men seated at the far end of the common room tensed. Gabriel would have smiled again, but instead, he tipped his head very slightly to his former student and turned away.

He was two streets away before he began to relax even a tiny bit. Retrieving Cometes from the inn where he’d secured him took no time at all – the stableboy looked dumbfounded at his reappearance, even though he’d told the lad that it was only for an hour or so – and he reconfirmed that everything was in place by touch. That was necessary thanks to the illusion wrought over the horse’s back that concealed the saddle and bags from sight; thankfully, Gestlin had not asked why it was needed, but then, the wizard had been too eager to rejoin the others in their celebration of Wallace’s rescue to really question much.

Before he had taken more than three steps from the stable, Merasiël fell into step alongside him. Like him, she wore a hood that mostly concealed her features – something of a necessity in this city it seemed – but the soft rain that fell from the sky was an exceptional excuse. Also like him, she appeared dressed for travel, but then, he could not think of a time when she was not. More than even him, the elven woman always seemed ready to drop everything and vanish.

“There were four outside the meeting place,” she said softly in her native tongue. “None followed.” Gabriel started to frown at that, then gave her a questioning look. “I did not harm any of them,” Merasiël stated, her tone bordering on defensive. “They watched you leave and then rejoined the boy.”

“Well,” Gabriel mused under his breath. “I suppose that is something.” His eyes flicked to her again. “Thank you for your assistance,” he said. She shrugged indifferently.

“You have the look of someone setting out on a trip,” she commented instead. “Do you not intend to accompany the others to Caithness?”

“If ever I set foot in that country again,” Gabriel replied flatly, “it will be too soon.” His tone drew her eyes and he shrugged almost exactly like she had moments earlier. “There is nothing for me there but bitter memories.”

“The others?”

“You heard them today,” he said. “Rainald cannot wait to get back to his wife and children. Mendel misses his monastery. Magnifico … truly, I do not know what he thinks. And Dane … Dane will do whatever Wallace tells him to.” In truth, Gabriel had already said his goodbyes to them, though most would not realize it until long after he left.

“Where will you go?” My, she was full of questions today. It was a pleasant change – usually, he was the one pestering her.

“South, I think.” Gabriel smirked. “Someplace free of Templars and missing lords and demons pretending to be archangels. Somewhere … peaceful, I think.” To his surprise and utter delight, Merasiël gave him one of her very rare smiles. Admittedly brief, but present nonetheless.

“But not too peaceful,” she said. Gabriel laughed out loud.

“You know me too well,” he remarked. They walked in silence for another moment. “There is a place for you, if you wish it,” Gabriel said abruptly. That drew her eyes. “Caithness does not interest you either, I think.”

“It does not,” Merasiël replied after a moment of consideration. “South, you say?”

“To the coast of Cardiel, at least.” Gabriel smirked again. “Then … who knows? Araterre perhaps? Or some far distant land that no one has seen in a thousand years. Perhaps the very edge of the world.” He shrugged. “A place that has never heard of a Templar would be ideal.”

“I will need a fast horse of my own,” Merasiël pointed out. A flicker of something that looked suspiciously like mischief appeared in her eyes. “Surely in a city filled with knights and Templars, we can find something appropriate, yes?” Her expression hardened slightly. “Or slavers.” Gabriel could hear the unstated hatred and wondered at it for a moment. He pushed his curiosity aside – there would be time later to make inquiries – and instead nodded.

“Ruining a slaver by stealing his prize stallion bothers me not in the least,” he remarked wryly.

“There is a … Lord Drogan in this city,” Merasiël said abruptly. “Or so I have heard.” She was a better than expected liar, but Gabriel could see her eagerness to pay this lord a visit. By the sharpness of her expression, he doubted the man would survive should their paths cross.

“Well then,” Gabriel said with another smile. “Let’s go pay him a visit.”

Three hours later, they departed Cardiel on horseback, leaving behind eleven dead men, including one lordling, thirty-six freed slaves, and a single burning house.

It was a good start.

Banestorm, Player Characters Gabery

GURPS Banestorm: Dark Clouds Rising, Book II, Session 6.33-6.35

May 20, 2015 Gigermann No comments

Dramatis Personæ

Brother Mendel (Herodian)
Dane Sardock (Winston)
Gabriel Auditore (Rigil Kent)
Gestlin the Unpredictable (CommJunkee)
Magnifico the Clown (Feste)
Merasiël Alethmist (Melissa)
Rainald North-Hammer (Gigermann)

Of Liberty and Arrest

3 June 2014

As the early-morning sun began to appear, Gestlin triggered his magical, winged harness, and flew back to the Gleaming Endeavor, to guide the ship to a secluded part of the river nearest the safe-house. After some time had passed, the rest of the Heroes left on foot, to the agreed-upon place on the river, taking along Bashir, still-weak from his many tortures in prison. Yet later, as Dane kept watch on the river while the others concealed themselves nearby, he spotted their ship as it approached, and signaled to Gestlin. The Heroes then quietly got themselves aboard, and sailed back across the rover to the pier where they had agreed to deliver Bashir to the anti-slavers.

As they approached the docks, the Heroes remained vigilant for new threats. They spied Aurelius before them—glad at the ship’s arrival—emerging from a nearby street, accompanied by two other men who kept watch over him. But as the ship was moored, the Heroes then also spied two sinister-looking fellows headed toward Aurelius from down the docks, and on a nearby roof, a shadowy figure that leveled a crossbow in his direction. Gabriel leapt from the ship to the dock and sprinted toward Aurelius to intercept the assassins. Gestlin Teleported Merasiël to the roof beside the crossbow-wielding shadow, and then also Rainald, to Aurelius. The lifeless body of the crossbowman slid off the roof to the street below, startling passers-by; they witnessed no sign of his killer, who bounded down to the street in another place. Meanwhile, Aurelius’ bodyguards were surprised, and attacked Rainald, who paid them no mind, but loudly challenged the two assassins as they approached, who fled before him.

The Heroes bade Aurelius quickly come aboard, lest there be more enemies about, and he did so. He embraced Bashir there, happy to see that he yet lived, and was now safe. He was to be taken through the city to a friendly merchant who would spirit him away out of the city; the Heroes believed his bodyguards would not be enough and volunteered to escort them to the merchant, and Aurelius was happy to accept their offer. As they navigated the winding, narrow streets of Tredroy, they spotted the same pair of assassins seen at the docks trailing behind them. Dane ducked into a nearby alley and led one of the assassins away, and circled back to the others; meanwhile, Rainald turned back to confront the one that remained, but the assassin fled before him again, and did not return. They continued to the merchant’s house, and Aurelius said his goodbyes to Bashir as they left him there, and the Heroes returned to the ship with Aurelius. As midday approached, Aurelius spoke of his promise to learn the whereabouts of Lord Wallace, and said that he would make inquiries of his contacts in the city on their behalf. Again the Heroes offered to escort him, and again he accepted their escort. They spent much of the day following him here and there through the city as he spoke discreetly with this-or-that stranger, and they later found themselves at a villa just outside of town, the home of a merchant who had agreed to speak to them.

As they all entered the courtyard and began to take their ease, however, a score or more Templar soldiers stepped out of hiding there, fully surrounding the Heroes, and demanded they lay down their arms and surrender themselves, saying that they were to be arrested for treason against the King, to be taken before the Lord Commander of the Templars. The merchant apologized, declaring he had been given no choice but to allow them, and hurried away to his chambers. Aurelius stood aghast, for he trusted the Templars as long-time aides to his cause, just as he had come to trust the Heroes for the same. As the Heroes stood back-to-back in the center of the courtyard, Gestlin, at length, brazenly challenged the Templars’ authority to arrest them, and declared the Heroes’ collective innocence, but their would-be captors were deaf to his argument, and continued to expect their surrender. Seeing that Gabriel had murder in his eyes for his hated enemies, the Templars, and also that Merasiël and Rainald were loathe to lay down their arms, Magnifico saw no alternative to battle, but began to dance. Aurelius wisely fled the courtyard to join the merchant.

Crossbow bolts were loosed upon Magnifico as he began his insidious display, but Merasiël threw herself in front of him, taking one herself that would surely have struck him, though he was still struck by another. Fighting through the pain, Magnifico continued, and many of the enemy that surrounded them succumbed to the magically-induced confusion; some stood fast, stupefied, while others saw disturbing visions. Then Magnifico gave in to his wounds, and collapsed.

As the dance had begun to take effect, Gabriel sprang forth from his place and engaged one among the ring of Templars, and found his opponent’s magically-enhanced defenses difficult to penetrate. Rainald held fast in his place to defend his side of the Heroes’ formation. Dane loosed arrow upon arrow, sometimes getting past the enemies’ shields to strike home. Gestlin threw up a Wall of Force to shield his side of the formation, and when Brother Mendel had cast a healing spell upon Merasiël, Gestlin teleported her to a far room adjoining the courtyard, where they had previously spotted more Templars, kneeling in apparent prayer, no doubt maintaining magical protections on the rest—in seconds, she slew the four she found there. After having healed Merasiël, Brother Mendel then turned to Magnifico, to heal and awaken him, and Magnifico got to his feet. At the same time, the Templars that were still capable held their position, loosing bolts from their crossbows, and upon a command from their leader, they began casting a Flash spell in unison—upon the spell’s completion, the sudden brightness flash-blinded the Heroes, excepting Gabriel and Merasiël who were outside the circle at the time. The Heroes continued to resist. Gestlin threw an Explosive Fireball through the formation at the opposite side of the Templars’ ring, but it went errant, nearly scorching Magnifico instead. Then the Templar leader gave another command, and his troops began casting another spell in unison, this time, Distant Blow—those wielding crossbows dropped them and drew their swords—and afterward, they began to magically strike at the Heroes as if there were no distance between them and their targets. Rainald charged forward from his place and, with a war cry, brought down his hammer upon one of the enemy still standing dazed, who fell. Gestlin cast a Darkness spell about their formation to conceal them, and Rainald fell back into it, daring the Templars before him to follow. The Templars on Gestlin’s side of the formation could not press through his magical barrier, but instead used their Distant Blow spells against the Heroes. The Templars on Magnifico’s side of the formation strode forward into the darkness, and continued their attack, while Magnifico hurled jarring insult after jarring insult, causing some to stop momentarily in stunned bemusement, while Brother Mendel disarmed them of their swords with his quarterstaff. Gabriel had finally felled one of the Templars when he was set upon by another, and then two others began also to strike him with their Distant Blow spells, though they could scarcely touch him still for his tumbling about. Merasiël had emerged from the side-room and set upon the Templar leader from behind with such a fury, and after some struggle, she buried her blades in each of his eyes in turn. Rainald slew another Templar that foolishly charged into the darkness near to him, and upon seeing Gabriel’s distress, charged forth again to engage some of his friend’s attackers. Another Templar that charged into the darkness before Dane was brought down by Gestlin’s Tanglefoot spell, and Dane loosed an arrow or two into his head for it, before Gestlin set him ablaze with a Fireball.

Then, as suddenly as it all had begun, a cry of “Parley!” rang out, as the second-in-command of the Templars called for truce. Dane answered, and called out to his fellows for calm, such that they ceased fighting. Several of the Templars’ number had been lost, including their leader, and the second-in-command offered that the Heroes should leave them to tend to their wounded, rather than press the matter. The Heroes agreed, and offered in return that the Templars should send a messenger to the Gleaming Endeavor if their Lord Commander wished to meet with them in peace, in a safe place. The Templar agreed that it would be so, and commanded his troops to allow them to leave the villa.

Aurelius went with the Heroes back to their ship, vexed and conflicted over which side he should favor, but his new friends assured him that their side was just. Aboard the ship, having pulled away from the docks to ensure none could easily board them, they all discussed what they might do, as they waited. Aurelius wished to go back into town to discover the Templars’ motives for himself; knowing the assassins might still lie in wait for him, Gabriel offered to escort him wherever he needed to go, and so the two left the ship. Some time later, as evening approached, a messenger for the Templars called out to them from the docks, and said that the Lord Commander would speak to them in the morning at their stronghold, though he would speak to Dane alone, and the boy awaited there for a response; Dane told the lad to tell his master that it would be so. Afterward, there was talk amongst the Heroes of magically listening to Dane’s conversation with the Lord Commander, but Dane dismissed it, for honor’s sake, preferring that they should wait outside for him. Gabriel returned to the ship later, having left Aurelius at place of safety, having encountered no assassins.

Lord Commander
bs-auqui

Auqui

In the morning, the Gleaming Endeavor was unmoored and sailed downriver to a place just outside the city, before the Templar stronghold, an impressive fortress set upon a hill in the desert. The Heroes disembarked, and after some time walking (Gabriel riding atop Cometes, who was glad of some exercise), together approached the gates, fully armed. The gates were opened for them, welcoming, and they saw within a large formation of Templars, as if greeting some foreign dignitaries. A boy approached and offered to take Gabriel’s horse to water and feed him, and Gabriel accepted. The Heroes made their way through the formation and approached the entrance to the keep, where they would wait, as Dane went inside to meet with their enemy.

At the far end of the massive hall sat a grizzled, older man, behind a desk, flanked by Auqui, in his Templars’ garb. Auqui met Dane’s gaze, and nodded in recognition, though he said nothing. The old man offered Dane a chair, and some wine, which Dane accepted. And the old man revealed that he was McDonald, Lord Commander of the Templars, and began to speak his mind…

Notes

Due to some short content, and a big multi-session combat, I have combined the last three sessions into one report; these three sessions were spaced out over more than a month, as we had scheduling difficulties that prevented us from having all players in attendance, which was needed for the fight.
As soon as we got to the villa, before the Templars were revealed, we were all already quoting The Empire Strikes Back, “They arrived right before you did. I’m sorry.” The GM was a bit disappointed—he intended to spring that on us himself 😛
Due to a lot of factors that would take a whole blog-post or two on their own to explain, the fight was taking a really long time to get through—could have gone on for at least another session, and maybe more—and was becoming an unbearable slog, so we all decided to cut it off, resulting in the “parley”; the GM confessed that the ending of the campaign, which is nigh upon us, has changed a little as a result

Banestorm, Campaign Logs Banestorm, Campaign, GURPS, Recap

GURPS Banestorm: Dark Clouds Rising, Book II, Session 6.31/6.32

March 13, 2015 Gigermann No comments

Dramatis Personæ

Of Prison-Cells and Safe-Houses

1 June 2014

The Heroes left the well-to-do inn, and Aurelius, and hasted straightaway for their ship, which departed for the far bank of the River Lorian and the Hazi quarter of Tredroy. As they sailed, they girded themselves for battle. Now evening, Gestlin took wing once again to spy out the city’s prison where Bashir, the captured abolitionist, was said to be held; using the Heroes’ magic ring that allowed one to see in darkness, he observed the movement of the guards for some time, and returned to tell the others that it was guarded by but a few. A half-bell later, the Gleaming Endeavor arrived in a secluded part of the Hazi quarter, and was secured to the dock. The captain was soon called forth to speak with the dockmaster at his office, and Magnifico and Gestlin went with him; through their translation, Captain Finn explained that he was here for trade, and expected to be no more than a day or two. Satisfied with the captain’s story, the dockmaster told him of their laws concerning the comings and goings of foreigners, and gave him white arm-bands to be worn by those who would enter the city, and released him back to his affairs.

The Heroes would not be allowed to carry their weapons openly, so all gave their weapons for Rainald to carry, and Brother Mendel cast an illusory disguise upon him, such that he appeared to be a (large) Hazi man carrying a bundle of sticks. So they entered the city, following the directions Aurelius had given them to one of the abolitionist safe-houses in the city nearest to the prison. They walked for many bells, for it was a long way through such a large city, patrolled here and there by the city watch, and they kept to the shadows and byways as they could. Even so, a pair of watchmen spotted Gestlin in the open, and demanded to know what he was up to. As Gestlin attempted to explain himself in their language, Magnifico stepped out of hiding (surprising the watchmen) and explained that this, his brother, was simple, and they were on their way back from the Mages’ Guild, but had lost their way. Gestlin tried to play the simpleton, but the watchmen were somehow not convinced by his performance. When one of the guards attempted to take Gestlin’s staff, Gestlin Blinked away; the use of magic caused the watchmen to become hostile, and draw their swords. Magnifico tried to calm them, or at least, draw their attention away from the stealthy approach of Gabriel from behind; as one of the watchmen began to strike at Gestlin, Gabriel slew the other, and then the first. The bodies were placed so they would appear to have slain each other over some grievance of coin; as they did so, a boy emerged in the upper window of a nearby residence, and Gestlin cast Sleep upon him, lest he cry out.

They continued, and arrived at the safe-house after midnight, and the master of the house allowed them to enter upon utterance of the pass-phrase given them by Aurelius. Dane, Gabriel and Merasiël left immediately to spy out the prison again, and found it still to be as Gestlin had reported before, guarded behind the gate by but one. Being the fleetest of foot, Gabriel ran back to the safe-house and fetched the others to the prison; during this time, Dane and Merasiël observed a number of armed men enter the prison to replace the same number who were leaving, all with a soldierly look about them—mercenaries, from the nearby guild.

Later, when the Heroes were all assembled nearby, Gabriel and Merasiël scaled the prison’s courtyard wall, as Dane watched, bow ready, from a nearby vantage; the two crept ’round the building and were upon the lone guard before he could cry out, killing him quickly, before opening the gate to allow the others in. The Heroes then positioned themselves at the prison’s only entrance and found it un-barred, so they crept into the barbican, to another heavy door having a barred window. At first, Gestlin attempted to Teleport the heavy door away, but his spell failed. Then Brother Mendel followed with a spell-weave to teleport them all into the room behind the door, but his spell only sent Gabriel and Rainald. The two guards on the other side, playing at dice, were surprised to find the two before them; Rainald quickly turned to un-bar the door and open it to the others, while Gabriel vaulted the tables and chairs to meet the guards as they drew their swords, followed soon by Merasiël through the now-open door. The guards were slain quickly and without mercy, but not before they could cry out. In the hall beyond, upon the walls, were lined a score of numbered, metal hooks, each bearing a set of keys; the Heroes collected them all, and began searching the rooms to the right and left, cells, finding some occupied, but none occupied by Bashir. Next they went upstairs, to a long hall lined with cells, and again, did not find Bashir.

Then, as they began to enter a large common room, Gabriel spotted a guard hiding ’round a far corner, and leapt forward to engage him, finding another there; Rainald sped toward the opposite corner, finding another two, while the rest followed. Merasiël joined Gabriel, and they slew one of the guards; Rainald was supported by Brother Mendel, who disarmed one of the guards with his staff. Then an unseen enemy shouted, and six mercenaries charged forth from side rooms and flanked the Heroes: Dane vaulted over a tub of water in the center of the room and loosed an arrow at one; Gestlin set one’s cloak ablaze; Magnifico was greatly wounded by one’s spear, but unleashed a magical satire that confused many of the mercenaries, causing them to hallucinate, such that they fought other imagined enemies besides the Heroes. Though the mercenaries were skilled warriors, they fell anyway, one by one, until none remained: disarmed by Brother Mendel’s staff; set aflame by Gestlin’s magic; throat slashed to the bone by Merasiël’s blade; skull smashed by a mighty swing of Rainald’s hammer; shot through the eye by Dane’s bow; run through the heart by Gabriel’s family sword.

The upstairs cleared of enemy, the Heroes found their way downstairs to the basement below, and found a number of rooms there, guarded, containing more prisoners, in chains, having been tortured in various ways. Rainald loudly commanded one guard to sit, who was greatly afraid, before Magnifico enthralled him, such that he became as an old friend to them. Within, they found Bashir hung by chains from the ceiling, and they released him, and Brother Mendel healed his wounds. The Heroes thought to release all the prisoners to cause chaos in which they might escape, but decided against it, lest they release truly evil men upon innocents. Instead, they took up Bashir and crept as quickly as they could out of the prison, and made their way back to the safe-house.

Notes

So, another two-session combo report; I’m still not intending this to be a permanent change in procedure, it’s just the way things have worked out lately
Apparently, according to the maps in the old 3e Tredroy book, that city is freaking huge; it ended up being several miles walking to the safe-house, and took most of the night. Even the river is huge: the Blueshoal is about 5-6 miles wide, and the Lorian is only a little smaller
The dice were fairly hostile on the first session; Gestlin nearly crit-failed the teleporting of the door. The dice were schizophrenic on the second session; there were a number of critical failures and critical successes during the fight
The second session started with the keys, and was dominated by one big fight—didn’t accomplish much, but it was still fun; the mercenaries were clearly not mooks, and were intended to be a bit tougher, but we’re expecting things to get tougher as the campaign inches toward its end

Banestorm, Campaign Logs Banestorm, Campaign, GURPS, Recap

GURPS Banestorm: Dark Clouds Rising, Book II, Session 6.29/6.30

February 25, 2015 Gigermann No comments

Dramatis Personæ

Of Seekers and Strangers

1 June 2014

The Gleaming Endeavor berthed at the Cardien city quarter, the more familiar culture to the Heroes—though its cosmopolitan nature was unlike any place most had seen before. They discussed how they should find the Templars, and parted their company. Gestlin, Brother Mendel, Magnifico—and Merasiël, for protection—went to the Mages’ Guild Hall to see what they could find there, and returned more knowledgeable about its membership requirements but little else. Rainald, Dane and Gabriel went to the city square to see what notices might be posted there, and hear of any local rumors, and returned having learned nothing of use. Back at the ship, it was decided that Brother Mendel would cast a Seeker spell to locate Lord Wallace, but as before, the spell revealed nothing—perhaps concealed by a magical ward, as they had encountered before. Then it was decided that Magnifico would cast the same spell, instead to locate Auqui, who would certainly be with the Templars. Through a ritual casting, all that were present lent their energy to the spell, and Magnifico saw a vision of Auqui on a ship, on a river he believed to be the Blueshoal—though the ship was not within the city, and he could not say whether it was coming or going. Confident of the vision, the Heroes decided that some should search the river by air in each direction to find the ship bearing their enemy, while those that remained in the city would keep watch for the ship atop one of the many long bridges that spanned the river.

Auqui

bs-zabka
Zabka

Gestlin, via his magical winged harness, and Dane and Magnifico, atop the dragons Primus and Secundus, sprang from the deck of the Gleaming Endeavor and swept quickly to the West, up-river. The three flew just over the trees at some distance beside the river, and scanned ahead for the Templars’ ship; as they reached a distance upriver, with no sign of their quarry, they wheeled about and searched likewise downriver, to the East. Then, at great distance, they spied the ship bearing Auqui and the Templars, as Magnifico had seen in his vision, and immediately turned back toward Tredroy to relay their findings, though Dane’s Eagle Vision clearly showed that Auqui, atop the deck of the enemy ship, had spotted them as well, and also the presence of another familiar visage, that of the Heroes’ foe from long ago, Bishop Zabka.

Meanwhile, the sudden flight of dragons leaving the Heroes’ ship had greatly disheartened those nearby at the docks, some of whom went and fetched the city guard. A troop of guardsmen arrived at the wharf soon afterward and demanded those aboard the Gleaming Endeavor stand forth, unarmed, and answer for the disturbance. Merasiël and Gabriel were loathe to leave behind their weapons, and instead hid themselves in the ship’s hold, while the rest did as bidden. The captain of the guard did not allow Brother Mendel to speak before he sent a few of his men aboard the ship to search it for any others; though expertly hidden beneath an Elvish Hunters’ Cloak, Merasiël was stumbled upon by chance by one of the men, and she stood and surrendered herself without apology, and was brought above to the deck. Brother Mendel explained that this Elvish woman is an ambassador for the Elvish peoples, and should not be treated so; Merasiël took his cue to act the part of the aloof aristocrat, and reluctantly agreed to leave her blades at the ship. The guard-captain apologized for his rudeness and declared that he must escort them all to his superior to sort out the matter there, and the Heroes followed without further resistance. At the headquarters, the guard-commander heard the Heroes’ explanation, and did not seem fully convinced of the truth until they produced their letters given them by Aamir Al-Rahmani inviting them to perform in Tredroy on his behalf; the commander then released the Heroes back to their ship, admonishing them to keep the dragons locked away except under his escort, and informing them that he would post guards at the docks for their (whose?) protection.

Upon the Heroes’ return to the docks, they readied themselves to go to the East Bridge and watch for the arrival of the Templars’ ship, when the dragons returned. Once again assembled (and the dragons locked away), the Heroes shared their findings. Suddenly a new commotion was raised amongst the folk at the docks, as a trio of slaves attempted to reach their freedom by running from the Al-Wazifi side of the river, across the miles-long bridge, to the Cardien side; the Cardiens cheered the runners on, but their Wazifi pursuers shot at them with arrows. One of the slaves was left of his fellows as he was struck by an arrow in the leg, and fell over the side of the bridge, clinging to the rail lest he should fall into the river from such a height. Without pausing, Gestlin took wing and hastened to the man’s aid, diving into the river after the man had fallen and was struck again, and laying hold of him there, Teleported him to safety aboard the ship, where Brother Mendel healed him. Then the Wazifis gave up their pursuit, and the other two slaves came to find their fellow at the ship; Brother Mendel bade them tarry a moment, and weaved a spell to remove their slave-brands, and gave them some money, and the former-slaves were greatly thankful.

Aurelius

Just then, a well-dressed stranger approached the ship and, in fluent Arabic, asked to speak with the former-slaves, and also in Anglish told the Heroes of his great admiration regarding their intervention on the slaves’ behalf, and wished to speak with them as well. He introduced himself as Aurelius, and the Heroes invited him aboard their ship to speak privately. Therein, he explained that he was a member of an abolitionist group in Tredroy who might be glad of the sort of help the Heroes had so demonstrated. Upon inquiry, he revealed that he had interacted with both Auqui on some occasions, as the Templars were of great help to the abolitionists here, and Zabka, though less frequently. The Heroes were eager to help in exchange for information from his network regarding the missing Lord Wallace, and he agreed, and arranged that they should discuss the matter later in the evening, at supper at a well-to-do inn in the city. Aurelius asked many details of the former-slaves, of their former captivity, and wrote them down. Then he bid the Heroes many thanks, and went on his way.

The Heroes kept an eye toward the river for the Templar ship as they prepared themselves to go to the inn. Not long after, Dane, in the ship’s tops, spotted Auqui’s ship approaching, Auqui himself glaring in their direction as they passed by; it continued upriver and turned South up the River Lorian, out of sight. Gestlin called upon Smil-Blam and made himself invisible, and took wing to pursue them, and observed them as they berthed at the Southern edge of the city, disembarking there and entering the city by waiting coaches. Then Gestlin returned and told the others what he had seen, though any action would have to wait, as their appointed hour approached.

Now evening, the Heroes went together to the inn, except Merasiël and Gestlin who would remain behind at the ship. Their patents of nobility were recognized by the dock-guards and they were allowed to enter the city under arms, though some were frowned upon at the upper-class inn, for the Heroes were loathe to leave behind their armor, for memory of the Elvish assassins at such an occasion over a decade past. They were met inside by Aurelius, and taken to a private room to dine with him, while he set forth the details of the mission he would ask of them: they must rescue one of the abolitionists’ members operating on the Al-Haz side of the river who had been caught by the authorities there, and was to be publicly beheaded within the week; the man’s family had been secreted away by his fellows and were safe from reprisal. The Heroes agreed to do the thing, though they would make their plans elsewhere, lest they be overheard. Just then, Brother Mendel spied a shadow under the closed door, no doubt, of someone listening thereat, and he quietly alerted the others to it. Gabriel sped to the door to open it, but the spy had fled through the crowd in the common room, passing coin to a stranger to delay his pursuers on his way out. Gabriel evaded the intended distractor with a sharp word of warning and quickly followed the spy out of the inn, catching him up outside just as the spy had whispered to two others waiting nearby, who then fled into the alleys in different directions. As Dane was catching him up, Gabriel confronted the spy, who upon seeing the dragon-marks on Gabriel’s arms, was greatly cowed, and begged for his life, though he dared not reveal his employer. Not wishing to shed blood in plain sight of the passers-by, Gabriel instead ushered the spy back inside the inn to the private room where the Heroes supped, and sat him down there. Then Magnifico cast Mind Search upon the spy, and learned that he was, as some had suspected, employed by the Assassins’ Guild, tasked to locate and murder the captured abolitionist’s family, as well as Aurelius himself. Aurelius was surprised to hear this, and feared for his life. The Heroes knew they must act quickly, for the spy’s fellows that had escaped would certainly tell of their rescue plans.

Notes

Again, I have combined two sessions in one recap. This was not planned, just a product of the current situation, and I don’t intend to continue—but then I didn’t intend it in the first place. The second session was shortened by technical issues, so we didn’t accomplish much.
Gabriel’s player was absent for the first session; Merasiël’s and Gestlin’s players were absent for the second
Bishop Zabka was introduced to the campaign at the very beginning, before the current GM took it over from the previous GM, and has been featured in Gabriel’s side-stories as a villain, and mentor to his wayward apprentice, Auqui
We were a bit surprised to hear from Aurelius that the Templars have actually been helpful here in Tredroy, and not thought villains, as we knew them to be
It was fortunate for the city guards searching the ship’s hold that Gabriel’s player was not available, for they would certainly have perished at his hands for their discovery of Merasiël in hiding—and fortunate for the PCs that the resulting diplomatic incident did not occur
The PCs got jumped by Elvish assassins at a dinner in Harkwood before the war, and it was one of the more embarrassing non-victories we’ve suffered; we’re very (understandably) paranoid about similar situations now. The GM made laid out a tactical map for this dinner, the very same map as before, undoubtedly to play against our expectations—well played, sir 😛
Gabriel (finally) managed a very successful Intimidation attempt against the spy, but we didn’t want to torture a confession out of him in the street—but with Magnifico, he need not speak at all for us to get the info, so we agreed to “Feed him to the Clown”—the horror!

Banestorm, Campaign Logs Banestorm, Campaign, GURPS, Recap

GURPS Banestorm: Dark Clouds Rising, Book II, Session 6.27/6.28

February 12, 2015 Gigermann No comments

Dramatis Personæ

Of Freedom and Commerce

18 May 2014

Continued… As the two pirate vessels began to separate themselves from the Gleaming Endeavor, without hesitation, Gabriel leapt across to the deck of the nearest ship, followed by Merasiël, then Dane; Rainald instead found a loop of rope and cast it across to catch the anchor-post of the enemy ship, and using all his strength, held the ship fast, such that they could not escape. Two sword-wielding pirates charged across the deck to meet Gabriel but immediately fell to his blade; the two enemy that remained above-decks were wizards, and they each cast Water Jet to sweep the Heroes from the deck, but they avoided the attack. Then, one of the enemy wizards cast an Ice Slick upon the deck, and Gabriel and Merasiël, already charging, kept their footing and slid toward their enemy upon the ice. Dane loosed a captured meteoric arrow, which, to the great surprise of the wizard it struck, was not deflected by his defensive spell, just before he fell to Merasiël’s thrown blade. At the same time, Magnifico flew close by atop Primus; now panicked, the remaining enemy wizard cast a magical Fog to cover his escape, as he dove over the side of the ship into the ocean, never to be seen again.

Below-decks, the ship’s slave-master surrendered himself, and the Heroes released the slaves from their bonds. Magnifico cast Mind Search upon the slave-master, and discovered that he had indeed seen Lord Wallace, as these very pirates had captured him and taken him to Sa’Azraq, though they knew not who he was; Magnifico also discovered from him a flag-signal that the pirates use to signify a “protected” vessel. The Heroes siezed what they could from the enemy ship, and after much deliberation, Dane reluctantly gave the order that it should be sunk—too much trouble for a small crew in such a hurry to keep it—and take the former-slaves aboard the Gleaming Endeavor to be delivered to their freedom as opportunity could be found; the slave-master was released in the pirate-vessel’s boat and pointed north, to fend for himself.

The Gleaming Endeavor sailed for a day to the northern shore of the Sa’Azraq Straits, to Megalan lands. As they sailed, Brother Mendel cast a weave-spell to remove the slave-brands from each of the former-slaves’ arms. The Megalans were put ashore at a fishing village, and given a share of the monies and supplies recovered, and were wished a good journey home. Then the ship sailed south another day to Sa’Azraq, a renowned trade-city on the Wazifi side of the Straits. Within the walled city’s harbor, Captain Finn refused to dock, fearful of ill-treatment of Christians here, but instead anchored the ship out in the harbor. The Wazifi former-slaves were taken ashore by the ship’s boat and released, with a share of the recovered goods, as the Megalans had been, and wished well on their way.

It was decided that they should send a small, non-threatening team ashore to (initially) gain permission to dock; Magnifico, Gestlin, Brother Mendel, and Dane volunteered. Their boat was met at the docks by some curious guards; Magnifico, speaking Arabic, assured the guards they were no threat, and they allowed the Heroes to pass, though Dane was made to leave his arms in the boat. They entered the city to find out what they could; it was not like Bannock, a mixture of Christian and Islamic cultures, but solely Muslim, a marvel the less-traveled among the Heroes had never seen. As they traveled, Gestlin spilled a great number of a vendor’s fish upon the ground, and angered the vendor greatly, though he clumsily attempted to clean up the mess he continued to make. The guard arrived to attend to the ruckus, and Gestlin was made to pay the vendor two gold coins for his loss. The four continued to the slave-market, hoping to find someone in charge there that might tell them of Lord Wallace. They observed the market for some time, and noticed a strange fellow purchasing slaves—he treated his purchases with unusual kindness, and spirited them away immediately afterward. The Heroes decided to follow this man, and he arrived at a small Christian chapel in a poor district. The Heroes knocked on the chapel door and introduced themselves to the man, a priest, and were invited inside. The priest told them of his mission to free what slaves he could, one by one, and of the “abolitionist” movement operating in secret within the city. When asked, the priest recalled having seen Lord Wallace here a year ago, though he knew not who he was, only that he was “important” and fetched a high price at the slave-market. He agreed to contact his fellow abolitionists, and to send them to tell the Heroes what they might know of whom it was that had purchased Lord Wallace. Then, with the priest’s blessing, the Heroes returned to the ship.

Meanwhile, as those that had remained behind at the ship passed the hours in waiting, they noticed a familiar ship some distance down the docks—the very pirate galley that had escaped the Heroes’ retribution. They took no action against it, but observed it carefully, lest they raise an alarm.

As the evening sun lowered, some time after those that had gone ashore had returned and told of what they had seen in the city, a boat approached the Gleaming Endeavor, bearing two men who called after Brother Mendel. They were the abolitionists sent by the priest, and were welcomed aboard. After ensuring there were no spies aboard, the men said that a year past, Lord Wallace had been sold here to the Templars, through an intermediary, for Templars are not tolerated in this country; this intermediary was a merchant named Jaffa who lived in the city—the men described where he could be found. Satisfied, the men were sent on their way, and the Heroes planned amongst themselves how they might cause this merchant to tell them what he knows.

In the darkest hours of the morning, Gabriel, Merasiël and Magnifico slipped into the waters of the harbor and quietly swam to a secluded area of the docks, where no guards were. As they donned their clothes and weapons in a nearby alley, [redacted]. Then they crept through the darkened streets to the house of Jaffa, avoiding the night-watchmen. Gabriel climbed to the open window of the upper story of the house while Merasiël picked the lock to the front door, and they all entered the house and made their way to the merchant’s bedroom. There, Magnifico performed a Mind Search spell as the man slept, and learned that Lord Wallace had been sold to a hooded Templar he knew only as “Adi,” and was taken into the desert to the South under an armed company, provisioned for a long journey. Upon hearing the name, Gabriel knew that the hooded Templar was Auqui, his former protege and sworn enemy. The three then crept back out of the house as they came, arousing no one, and made their way back to the docks, and the ship, without incident.

The Gleaming Endeavor left with the next tide and made her best speed to Hadaton, a journey of three days. Before, the Heroes had been expecting to spend some time in Hadaton, but knowing the Templars had crossed the desert on foot, no doubt, to Tredroy, they now had no cause to tarry, and so they provisioned the ship and continued up the Blueshoal River to Tredroy. Six days at-sail against the river current brought the Gleaming Endeavor to the massive city of Tredroy, a magnificent sight to behold for those that had not before experienced it. The ship was docked, and the Heroes immediately set about their business of locating the Templars and Lord Wallace.

Notes

It was decided to end session 6.26 in prose, so we worked out the details on the forums between sessions and wrapped it up “officially” here; that wrap-up only covers the fight above-decks
Everyone really wanted to keep the captured ship somehow, even if just to sell it at the nearest port, but we didn’t have near enough crew to cover both vessels (there were only two “sailors” amongst the slaves) and still make good time
As the swim-team was gearing up in the alley, they were approached by a talking dog (voiced by Gestlin’s player) asking for food or whatnot—the result of Magnifico’s Weirdness Magnet. It said “woof” at a passing night-watchman. Then a strange blue box materialized nearby, with a rhythmic screeching noise, and a man with a colorful scarf poked his head out and called the dog inside, before the box disappeared again. The PCs swore never to speak of this again—hence the “redaction.” 😛
It’s noteworthy that the sneak-team managed to get the info from Jaffa, not only without killing anyone, but entirely without being discovered at all
The PCs long-awaited arrival at Tredroy signals the ultimate climax of the campaign; but a handful of sessions remain. Whether or not the same characters continue in a new campaign to come is still being settled

Banestorm, Campaign Logs Banestorm, Campaign, GURPS, Recap

Banestorm: Wet Work

February 10, 2015 Rigil Kent No comments

The water was not as cold as he expected.

As he lowered himself into the bay, Gabriel exhaled slowly, suddenly relieved that they would not be swimming through ice water. He heard Merasiël mutter something under her breath, and then Magnifico – not for the first time, he worried about conducting a stealth operation with the older man. Until they got him out of his ridiculous jester clothes, Gabriel had not realized just how much older Magnifico was compared to him. He made a silent, mental note to keep an eye on the man, just in case.

They kicked off from the Gleaming Endeavour with Gabriel taking point. It was awkward going – the watertight bag strapped to his back contained their clothes and gear, but the added weight made swimming difficult – but neither of his companions seemed to be struggling. They paused in the shadows of a dock as a pair of the city’s guards passed by, grumbling softly at having to be awake this late (or early, depending upon one’s perspective). Gabriel glanced toward Merasiël and flashed her a grin.

“Just like Ky’Tal,” he murmured under his breath, his voice pitched for her ears alone. She gave him a flat, unamused look.

“Warmer water,” she murmured in response.

Six Years Ago

The water was strangely frigid for this time of year.

Gabriel grimaced as he floated silently, hugging the shattered remnants of what had once been a hurriedly constructed skiff but was now little more than wreckage. The decision to try an amphibious assault had been a foolish one – to his credit, Dane had argued loud and long against it – but then, the Crusaders had not shown much in the realm of intelligence over the last few years. Naturally, it ended exactly as everyone feared it would, with blood and fire and more senseless death.

This would be the third Hive they had attacked, and Gabriel very much hoped it was to be the last one. He was tired of this world, tired of this ridiculous war, tired of the constant, unending stupidity foisted upon them by nobles who had no business even speaking in a war council, let alone leading troops. Admittedly, the worst of the lot were already gone, felled by their ignorance or dead by disease, but still, there were just enough of the fools remaining to make things difficult. The siege to take this hive, for example, was bringing the fools out like honey drew bees. Most of them wanted to simply assault the gates … or rather, wanted to hurl their Huallapan levies against those gates until they battered them down which was such a patently stupid idea that they had to latch onto it. Thankfully, Dane was at least a little wiser.

Which was how Gabriel found himself treading water in the bay that Hive Ky’Tal crouched over like a sullen, angry child. There were nineteen others scattered around him, most of whom were elves under that fierce-eyed woman, Merasiël . Auqui was here as well – the boy had begged and Gabriel had been forced to admit that he would be useful – as well as Kira, and all of them were waiting for his signal. Damn that Dane for putting him in command. He wanted to scowl even though he acknowledged this was pretty much his own fault. After all, he’d been the one to suggest assaulting this way.

“This will be close knife work,” he’d told the assembled team, noting the casually confident way the elves stood. None of them would shy from what had to be done, not with that hard-eyed female in command, so he focused most of his remarks toward Auqui and Kira. “Once we reach the shore, follow the plan. There are to be no deviations or last minute heroics.” He locked gazes with Auqui. “Am I clear on this?” he asked, letting his tone and body language deliver the threat more than the words.

“It will be as you say, Master Gabriel,” the boy said. He was too eager by half, but dammit, they needed him here. His understanding of the tongue would be essential given how poorly Gabriel understood it.

A brilliant flare of light momentarily illuminated the far bank – Mendel, probably; Dane had a tendency to rely on the monk for these sorts of signals – and Gabriel waited until the flare had faded away before letting himself dip under the water so he could resume his swim. Already, he could feel the strange water-breathing weave dropped over him by Pachacuti beginning to falter which he supposed he should have expected. What was the old saying? You can have it done well or done fast, but not both? They had opted for haste.

They reached the bank before the weave completely collapsed and Gabriel allowed his head to breach the surface slowly. According to the locals, this had once been a fairly large port city before the Vasar came, and the bugs had never bothered tearing down the docks. The neglect showed, however, with rotten timbers and the skeletal remains of strange-looking ships yet berthed against swaying piers that even the local sea-birds avoided. There were a handful of natives milling around and Gabriel grimaced slightly. He considered their options quickly before allowing his eyes to flick to the elven leader, Merasiël . She nodded her understanding and without a word vanished back under the water. Three others followed her.

In the shadows of the crumbling docks, Gabriel led the rest of the team up into cover. For a change, they did not have to change clothes – Pachacuti’s weave had seen to that – and Gabriel waited for a long count to twenty before the four elves materialized out of the darkness, their expressions grim but unconcerned.

“It is done,” Merasiël said softly in that strange-sounded accent of hers. The other elves shifted around her, as if they could not quite determine whether to recoil away or pledge lifelong loyalty. From the woman’s expression, she noticed this and liked it even less than they did. Gabriel pushed his curiosity aside for the moment.

“Four teams of five,” Gabriel hissed. He pointed to two elves he vaguely recognized. “You and you, with me. Hit your targets fast and keep moving. Our primary objective is to get the gates open.” He flashed a grin. “Peace favor your sword,” he said in his terrible elvish before turning away.

With Auqui, Kira and the two elves at his back, Gabriel angled toward the south gate. Rainald would be waiting there with his squadron of Wallace men, though God only knew how many Vasar they would need to cut through to win the gate. He kept low, hugging the shadows and avoiding the patrols, even though he knew Auqui was desperate to throw himself into battle. Now was not the time for that sort of thing, though he doubted the boy cared to hear such a thing. All that mattered was the mission.

And then, of course, everything went to hell.

It was no one’s fault, really, though later, Auqui would blame himself – they were sprinting through the narrow, overgrown streets that connected the remains of the Huallapan city to the Hive proper when a squad of Vasar warriors rounded a corner at a fast run. For the span of a single heartbeat, Auqui was silhouetted in the early morning light, a single, armed warrior facing off against a dozen bugs set against the backdrop of a ruined temple, and the Vasar’s advance faltered in surprise. They reacted nearly as quickly as he did, with their vestigial wings beating against their carapace in alarm even as he threw himself at them with the Boar Rushes Downhill. Gabriel did not even bother cursing as he reversed stride and darted back toward the melee, his father’s sword whispering free from its scabbard. The sharp snap of bowstrings – the two elves and Kira – sounded and two of the Vasar grunted in pained surprise as arrows struck him. By then, Gabriel was among them.

Snow in High Wind gutted one of the bugs and he twisted around a wild swing, springing up and over the polearm. He landed lightly in the dirt and then counterattacked – Kissing the Adder left the attacker squirming in a pool of its vile ichor – before redirecting another bug’s attack with Branch in the Storm. Auqui was there, laughing like a fool as he danced through Apple Blossoms in the Wind, injuring two of the Enemy but not sufficiently to drop them. That was just like him, so intent on showing the world how capable he was that he forgot the entire point of a fight like this was to kill the opponent. The best defense, Gabriel’s father had once told him, was to have your enemy on the ground, bleeding out. The Rose Unfolds flowed into The Mongoose Takes a Viper, which became Kingfisher Circles the Pond. The entire world constricted to this sharp engagement – Gabriel was aware of more arrows striking home, was cognizant that Auqui’s laughter had dwindled as he struggled ever so slightly, knew that Kira would be circling the scrum and seeking her own entrance point, but so little of that mattered. There was his father’s sword and the Enemy. And, of course, the sword forms.

It ended nearly as abruptly as it began. He backed the last of the Vasar into Auqui’s unnecessarily sloppy Arc of the Moon, but the bug’s attention was not on the boy so it made no attempt at defense. With a sudden jerk, it toppled as Auqui’s strike took its head which resulted in a shower of disgusting bug ichor.

“More coming,” one of the elves said with a dark look aimed in the direction of the Hive. He had already nocked another arrow.

“Then we run,” Gabriel replied. He flicked his wrist to snap the ichor from his blade and bit back a smile when he caught Auqui doing the same.

“Did you see, Master?” Auqui asked as he drew alongside him. The boy was grinning.

“I did.” Gabriel threw him a smirk. “Your elbow was crooked,” he said with a smile of his own. “Now run, boy. We still have a job to do.”

They ran.

And the Vasar never knew what hit them.

Banestorm, Player Characters Gabery

Slander

February 9, 2015 Feste No comments

Wallace, March 2005

Magnifico strummed the lute softly, awaiting his next cue. Stone flooring balanced by the sheerest of curtains against the warm sun made the exquisite instrument’s sound carry well throughout the hall. The strings answered his lightest touch, urging him to caution.

“Your sharbat is excellent, my lord,” said the Wazifi whose eyes lied.

William, Lord Wallace reclined, looking relaxed–no mean feat in his high-backed chair of dark, forbidding wood. He stretched his sword arm, which fell by his side to where his dirk was slung out of sight of the embassy. “It is last night’s untouched fruit, ibn Ja’far, sweetening the unfermented apples from last harvest.”

“Your kitchener–your cook, lord–is a clever one, perhaps well accustomed to serving the faithful,” ventured the lesser visitor, with a glance at his ambassador.

The younger Wallace, Malcolm by name, spoke up, scowling. “A cook? You think my father a newly-landed baron, with a single field hand pressed into service to boil his meat? Whatever the king tells you, you are in the seat of Wallace, an old and vast holding. His table is the finest you will find.” He was silenced by a fearful glance from his father.

The ambassador’s face betrayed no emotion. “I apologize for my friend’s words, ill-chosen in a tongue he does not yet command.” He brought the sharbat to his grey beard, and drank deliberately. “He meant only compliments, which I now echo.” His countryman gripped the arm of his chair, but set his mouth in a thin line and did not speak.

Magnifico slid his hand up the neck of the lute to begin the centerpiece of his performance. He rose from the stool, and walked casually about the lord’s table, singing in the tongue of the foreigners:

O Jandal, what do Banu Numayr say
When the male organ disappears into your father’s buttocks?

Lower your eyes in shame, for you are of Numayr–
No peer of K’ab not yet Kilab!

The ambassador’s eyes widened, but he remained silent. With an ugly look at Magnifico, ibn Ja’far said tautly, “I have heard, lord, that it is now the fashion in the west to keep feeble-minded clowns, who may slander all with impunity. In my country, such offenders are killed.”

Lord Wallace sat in silence, smiling in satisfaction. Leering, Magnifico continued his song:

Al-Farazdaq has declared that he shall kill Mirba–
Rejoice, O Mirba, at the prospect of long life!

“Ash-shi’r asyar, effendi,” said Magnifico, his hands still at the playful tune, and unable to resist, added in Anglish, “Poetry goes farther.”

Ibn Ja’far gritted his teeth and said, “My father’s son will not be so spoken to. My family–”

Magnifico smiled sweetly, though his hand trembled, and shifted into Arabic again.

You have not an ass in the parliament, nor a mouth,
Nor ever had in the past any worth knowing.

The hija stung, and ibn Jafar leaped to his feet, smoothly drawing from within his robe a dagger. “Dog!” he hissed, kicking aside his own chair.

Behind ibn Ja’far, though, Malcolm Wallace had moved more swiftly, and the Wazifi died on his blade, clutching at the table’s edge as he fell first to a knee, and then upon his face, blood gurgling from his back as he gasped his final breaths.

The reality of the murder in which he was complicit crept on Magnifico, as the blood of the Wazifi pooled on stone. He stepped back, panting, and dropped the lute. Malcolm Wallace calmly removed his dirk from the dead man. Only then did His Lordship stand.

“You understand me, ibn Falan? Your man concealed a weapon and drew in my presence. Only the swiftness of my own son preserved my life from the assassin your Sultan sent to me.” Wallace’s gaze bored into the blank eyes of his remaining guest.

After a pause, the ambassador’s steady hand lowered the crystal goblet to the table, placing it gently without a sound. “I understand you, lord. I will tell you a secret, though. This man was sent with me not by the wishes of the Sultan, peace be unto him, but by the man’s father, a powerful voice in the kingdoms. I have been aware these three months that he informs upon my every move. How could you have known? Only the wisest of lords might have foreseen the placement of a spy, and arranged for his removal a bare two days after our arrival. Only the most devoted and sure-handed son might have chosen the precise moment at which to take offense, and trained your singer of songs in the subtle art of insult as set forth by the poet Jarir. All this done to trick the youngster into revealing his hidden blade? At a meal when only two of my bodyguards stand outside? No, it is a tale not to be believed.

“I must write to my Sultan, advising him of the regrettable loss of a valued companion who nonetheless acted foolishly, violating your laws and receiving God’s judgment for his error. And leaving me alone in a strange country.”

Lord Wallace grinned. “Yes, we understand each other. Now, at last, we can speak openly on certain matters.” He waved a hand in Magnifico’s direction, and young lord Malcolm snapped his fingers, meeting the clown’s eye for an instant.

“Basmala,” muttered Magnifico, turning to flee the bloody scene.

Banestorm, Player Characters none

Banestorm: Foul Wretches

February 4, 2015 Rigil Kent No comments

The stink of the slave hold hit him the moment he stepped onto the ladder.

It was a far too familiar stench – sweat, blood, fear and despair, mingled together with the lingering smell of urine, shit and spoiled food – and Gabriel barely managed to keep from grimacing. He kept Misericordia held at the ready as he descended the small steps and kept his eyes on the burly slavemaster who stood as far away as he could manage while still being aboard this boat. The man slowly and very visibly lowered his bloody whip to the deck before holding up his hands.

“In the name of the Allah the Merciful and the Prophet – Peace Be Upon Him,” the man said in rapid Arabic, “I beg for my life, Dread Master.” He knelt and promptly prostrated himself on the deck, much to the wide-eyed surprise – and dawning hope – on the faces of the slaves. Of them, there were a good two dozen, all stripped to a loincloth and with backs dripping from recent scourging. None looked to be particularly strong or well-fed, and Gabriel wanted to recoil from their expressions.

“Don’t kill him,” Dane said. He was crouching at the top of the stairs. “Get him onto the deck and let Mags interrogate him.” Gabriel grunted.

“Get up,” he ordered harshly, his accented Arabic rough and likely hard to understand. He stepped closer to the man, placed the sharpened edge of Misericordia against the man’s neck. “Get up now,” he repeated, “or you will not be able to get up.” The man rose, hesitantly, but advanced toward the ladder, his body taut with terror.

“Does he have any keys, Brother Gabriel?” Mendel asked as he stomped down the stairs. “Let us free these poor wretches for I see that they are in the gall of bitterness and in the bondage of iniquity.” The clamor from the slaves grew rapidly as they suddenly understood that freedom was at hand and it chased Gabriel out of the hold.

On the deck, he found Merasiël gulping in air and trying to look as though she was firmly in control of herself – she’d fled the hold almost as soon as she entered it – while Rainald was scowling at the tail of the rapidly escaping other slave ship. Brisk, clean air caught Gabriel’s cloak and flicked it back, but the smell … he could not forget that smell.

He would never forget that smell.

Fourteen Years Ago

Gabriel had a very bad feeling about this.

His employer was striding along the rows of shackled men as their owner tried very hard to convince Sayyid Taimur bin Faakhir bin Taayib to accept slaves in lieu of hard coin. To his credit, the merchant was not budging and, if Gabriel was not mistaken, was on the verge of saying or doing something that might be construed as an insult. When Sayyid Taimur – Fat Tom to all of them, despite the fact that he was not truly stout – had announced his intent to return to Shaniyabad in order to replenish his wares, Gabriel had thought it would be an interesting diversion. He had grown to appreciate Tom’s descriptions of his homeland and, for a heretic who adhered to a false religion, the man wasn’t all bad. And, indeed, from the moment they’d come into view of Shaniyabad, it had seemed like something out of a dream. The soaring minarets, the exotic smells, the gleaming towers of gold and silver … it was everything the bards made such a place out to be. For a moment, he was actually able to believe Tom’s insistence that Megalos would be happier if only they embraced the true words of the Prophet.

And then, they docked and Fat Tom led his expedition – twelve men, all of whom were of al-Wazif birth save Gabriel, though most spoke Megalan as fluently as he did – into the dark heart of the city where the wonders were exchanged for nightmares. Whores and cutpurses lurked in every corner, sometimes being more subtle about their intent (as in the case of the former) while at other times, being far more belligerent about it. The slave markets here were just as cruel and vile as those in Megalos, though here they sold men and women who might have once been Gabriel’s neighbors in a former life. There was no shame in what was done – Gabriel saw one man stripped completely nude so he could be properly appraised, and then the same was done with a young girl barely into womanhood – and he felt his blood pounding in his ears. Only his father’s lessons with the flame and the void kept his thoughts from showing on his face as he was struck by a wall of sound and scents he wished very much to flee. The noise was bad enough – the wails of pain and broken dreams – but the stench … until now, he’d never thought that despair could have a smell.

“I have no need for a man such as these,” Tom said abruptly. He gestured in the direction of Gabriel and the others. “I already have strong arms and swift blades.” The scowl he gave the slavemaster was unexpectedly effective. “What I require is the coin that you promised me for these Caithness honeyroots.” Under his hood – a necessity with this sun – Gabriel frowned tightly. He still did not understand why these al-Wazifis were so obsessed with honeyroot, but every person that Tom had spoken to had been extremely eager to get their hands on them.

“I have women if you are uninterested in the men,” the slavemaster said. His smile grew feral. “Some of them are quite capable at eliciting the proper reactions.” Tom said nothing, though the thunderhead building on his face was not pleasant. “One or two of them are quite young,” the slaver added.

Gabriel tensed. He felt the others around him do so as well and wondered how many they would lose while cutting their way out of Shaniyabad. It had taken most of six months, but he’d managed to learn that talk of children slaves was never wise. Among the caravan, it was whispered that Tom’s primary reason for becoming a merchant within Megalos was to discover the fate of a long-lost daughter, stolen from him by Megalan slavers a decade earlier.

“Step away,” Tom hissed, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the slavemaster, “lest I unleash my tame infidel upon you.” Recognizing his cue, Gabriel advanced, dropping one hand to the hilt of his father’s rapier. He grinned ferociously, automatically sliding into the arrogant saunter that was the Cat Crosses the Courtyard. The slaver glanced once in his direction and then again, this time with a frown.

“A boy?” he asked. Tom’s expression barely changed.

“Do not be deceived by his appearance,” he said. “He has looked thus since he traveled with my father and his father’s father.” Open disbelief was stamped on the slavemaster’s face but Tom embraced his nonsensical story. “My father believed he is the get of a jann and when he Dances … men die.” Tom held up a hand to arrest Gabriel’s approach. “He is a water dancer and death cultist who dines upon the souls of those he slays.” The large merchant shivered, as if suddenly chilled despite the heat, and Gabriel stared intently at the slavemaster, still smiling.

“I will wager my fine new knife he takes him in a four-count,” one of Tom’s men – Fuad, it sounded like – said in a stage-whisper perfectly pitched to sound as if he meant it only for the man he was speaking to.

“But enough of this,” Tom said loudly. He gestured – it was the alert signal, the one that meant they were to stand ready for violence but not to instigate it – and scowled again. “If you have not the coin for my wares,” he said, “then our business is concluded.” He turned away.

The slavemaster lunged forward, lightning fast, his knife appearing as if summoned.

But Gabriel was faster.

His father’s sword flashed free from its scabbard and Gabriel struck without thinking – Black Lance’s Last Strike was a dangerous one as it left him wide-open to counterattack and sacrificed defense for aggression, but in this case, the gamble paid off. Recognizing the danger he was in, the slavemaster aborted his attempt at murder and tried to dodge Gabriel’s thrust, but was simply too slow. A shower of crimson rain splattered across the sun-baked stone around them and the man staggered back, dropping his knife as he desperately tried to stem the flow of blood from his neck. He gasped once, twice, then again before collapsing to a half-seated position. Tom looked down at him.

And then crouched to pick up the knife.

“If you had not tried to murder me, friend,” he said softly, “I would have summoned a healer.” The smile he gave the man was wintry cold. “Instead, I shall let you die – may Allah forgive me for my lack of mercy – and work instead with your replacement.” He straightened and looked to one of the slavemaster’s guards, none of whom had even budged from where they stood. “Have we a deal, my new friend?”

“We do, good master,” the man said. He approached, glanced down at the dying man who had slumped back, and then stepped over him.

“Walk quickly,” Tom said once their business was concluded and they were back in the streets. “I mistrust that man and suspect he will summon the guard at first opportunity.”

“Fear of the half-jann death cultist is not enough to freeze his tongue then?” Gabriel asked softly in Megalan. His comprehension of Arabic was tolerably decent, but actually speaking it? That was still beyond him at the moment. Tom gave him a wry half-smile.

“Cutting down Tahir as you did likely gave them more cause than you might think,” he said. “Now they must decide if any part of what I told them was the truth.”

“All of this over a crate of honeyroot.” Gabriel started to comment further but the snickers from the other men as well as Tom’s grin gave him pause. What had he missed? He cast his memory back over the proceedings … no, nothing stood out. Was this a jest on the fool Megalan then? Some part of his irritation must have shown on his face because Tom threw up his hands.

“Peace, my friend!” the merchant said quickly. “For such a deadly lad, you are blind to some of the strangest things.” Gabriel frowned again, then blew out a sharp breath.

“Sterling Gold,” he guessed. Tom grinned again and tapped his nose, causing Gabriel to shake his head. Of course. It all made sense now. Al-Wazif’s prohibition on all things alcoholic – or, more probably, Islam’s – would inevitably lead to a black market seeking such things and Caithness’ reputation for beer was well known. A complete lie, in Gabriel’s opinion, but well known nonetheless.

“Just so,” Tom said. His smile fell away as their path brought them to another slave market, this one evidently exclusively for captured Megalan (and, in many cases, al-Wazifi as well) women and young girls. “But now,” he murmured darkly, angrily, “enjoy what ye took in war, lawful and good.” From the bitter tone and the way his other men glanced at him in discomfort, Gabriel suspected Tom was quoting from the Qur’an.

“Exhort servants to be obedient unto their own masters,” Gabriel replied softly in an equally cynical tone, “and to please them well in all things.” Tom gave him a look, grunted and began pushing his way through the throng. For his part, Gabriel gave one more look at the slave auction – that girl there … his sister would have been that age had she lived – and then turned away to follow his employer.

And behind him, men continued to be men, foul wretches and low scum that they were.

Banestorm, Player Characters Gabery

GURPS Banestorm: Dark Clouds Rising, Book II, Session 6.25/6.26

February 1, 2015 Gigermann No comments

Dramatis Personæ

Of Spirits and Slavers

13 May 2014

The Heroes, glad of their return to the living world, made their way down from the ruined temple to the shore where the Gleaming Endeavor lay at anchor, and found the crew hard about their work at repairs, unaware that anything out of the ordinary had occurred. That evening, the crew were greatly amazed at the story told them of the Heroes’ travel to the Underworld.

But the Heroes had not forgotten their former business, the sense of a hostile presence aboard the ship which they had detected back in Craine. As the crew slept that night aboard the ship, Brother Mendel went to each and cast a Sense Foes spell upon him, but detected no hostility in any of them. Afterward, they supposed that there must be someone or something stowed away aboard that meant them ill, and Magnifico hatched a plan to discover it. On the morrow, the crew all went ashore. Brother Mendel, Magnifico, and Gestlin divided the ship into equal parts and cast Sense Foes, and as the hostile presence was detected in one sector, divided it further, continuing so until they had narrowed its location to the port-forward hold, but as they did, they found that the presence had moved elsewhere—it was avoiding their search. Gestlin commanded his staff, Smil-Blam, to grant him the ability to see invisible things, and as he did, he came face to face with a ghostly visage, as of a man, grim and hollow-eyed, now surprised to find Gestlin gazing back at him, following his movement, pointing, and calling out his location to the others. Gestlin challenged the spirit to know its purpose, but it spoke not a word. The others had no idea what to do in this matter, and could not see what it was Gestlin spoke to. As the spirit avoided the living, it hovered over the water alongside the ship, and Gestlin attempted to throw a Teleport spell, but his throw missed its target, just before the See Invisible spell ended. Later, speaking with the Captain on the matter, none could recall any that might haunt the ship, but supposed the spirit could do no immediate harm—though they declined to tell the rest of the crew what they had discovered.

15 May 2014

The repair of the ship was completed on the third day, and they departed with the first available tide, making their best speed toward Hadaton. All were glad to be under way again. They continued East for three days. Once clear of Keyhole Bay, they observed an increase in sea traffic, ships of all sorts, including regular patrols of Megalan warships of all sizes. Then they entered the Sa’azraq Straits, known for much pirate activity—slavers, mostly—where the Heroes’ information suggested that their quarry, Lord Wallace, in the custody of the Templars, was shipwrecked, and later recovered and taken further on to Hadaton.

18 May 2014

On the third day, well into the Straits, a pair of vessels were observed to be following the Gleaming Endeavor some distance behind, and gaining on her, and the Captain feared them to be pirates, slavers bent on taking them all captive. It was decided that they should spy out these vessels to see what they were about, and Gestlin volunteered to fly out to them, in the magical guise of a large bird, an albatross, to observe them. Brother Mendel cast the illusion spell upon him, and activating his magical winged harness, Gestlin took flight. But the disguise was too good, for Primus, flying about the ship catching fish, mistook Gestlin for a real bird, and attacked, and Gestlin narrowly escaped back to the ship. They tried again, this time securing the young dragons in their cages before Gestlin took to wing. And Gestlin flew between the pursuing vessels, and counted about thirty warriors aboard them, plus other crew—not looking at all like traders, but up to no good—and he returned, unmolested, to tell the others what he had seen. The Heroes decided they should try to slow down their pursuers, and Gestlin again volunteered to fly out to them: he would use Smil-Blam to make himself invisible, and cast Fireballs at their sails; it was agreed. So Gestlin flew unseen between the enemy ships, and set aflame the sail of the former ship, and then the latter. But the sails were doused, by magical means (as far as Gestlin could tell), and the two ships produced banks of oars and began quickly rowing, to the sound of war-drums. Gestlin returned to the ship, and the crew and passengers of the Gleaming Endeavor readied themselves for action, as the enemy continued to approach without their sails. As the enemy closed, Captain Finn tacked the ship to throw off their pursuers. Gestlin conjured up a mighty Whirlwind to sweep the enemy’s decks, but it was immediately dispelled—the enemy certainly had wizards in their company, possessed of some skill. The Heroes and the crew positioned themselves atop the aft-castle and readied themselves to fight.

At last, the enemy was upon them. They attacked first with volleys of arrows before closing in, and they pulled along either side of the Gleaming Endeavor, trapping it between the two vessels. Grappling hooks were thrown to catch the ship and pull them in tightly. Then the enemy warriors scrambled over the rails amidships, on both sides, and with a fearsome cry and brandished swords, charged the aft-castle.

Rainald and Merasiël held the port stair to the castle, and Gabriel held the starboard, with the others behind and between. The enemy swarmed up both stairs, and in the middle, climbed up the castle and over the rail. Gabriel, soon surrounded but unafraid, set about his bloody work with Misericordia, running the enemy through, taunting them in Arabic, and the dead piled up before him. Rainald loudly laughed and joked as he thrust his spear into the tide of pirates before him down the stair, while Merasiël slashed many throats of those that tried to get past Rainald or climb over the rail nearby. Brother Mendel reached out with his quarterstaff to disarm the enemy of their swords, again and again, as they clambered over the rail. Magnifico unleashed a nasty barrage of magical taunting in the enemy’s tongue, and cast Madness spells, stunning or incapacitating many, such that the crew could finish them, though he was greatly wounded in the process, before Brother Mendel healed him. Gestlin cast a Fireball or two into the midst of the enemy before flying off to defend against the enemy wizards, still on their ships. Dane swung down from the crow’s nest above and alighted to the rear of the aft-castle, and loosed lethal arrows upon those enemy that foolishly allowed him line-of-sight. A few of the crewmen were injured by the enemy as they held the defense, but Brother Mendel was able to give them aid before they should fall. As the enemy’s numbers were quickly diminished, and their morale near to breaking, Magnifico called in Primus and Secundus to harry the enemy from behind on the main deck. And the fight was over, so quickly that none were able to escape to their ships, as the grappling lines were cut and the enemy ships began to push off. To be continued…

Notes

These two sessions marked our return to the campaign after a long end-of-year hiatus (due to the usual holiday scheduling issues), the first after our return from the Land of the Dead. Due to a number of circumstances, and a long fight sequence, I combined the account from the first two sessions here. For the first, Dane’s player was absent, and Dane said to be “grievously ill” below decks; for the second, Gestlin’s player was absent, but Dane’s was present, so they effectively swapped places mid-fight (we joked that Dane was in the crow’s nest projectile-vomiting, when he suddenly recovered and swung down to join, then Gestlin caught the same rope and swung away, to projectile-vomit elsewhere)
We had been planning to deal with the “hostile presence” for some time, but the down-time for ship repairs was the prefect time to conduct the investigation
The “fighter” PCs were in little danger during the fight, now with enough magical armor that the pirates were generally unable to penetrate. Those without real armor, including the crew, were vulnerable, and some took serious wounds. The pirates, however, despite their greater numbers, had no chance at all
As the enemy ships separated, most of us wanted to leap over to them and take out the wizards and whomever remained in opposition; it was decided to end the scene in prose between sessions—to be concluded in the next write-up

Banestorm, Campaign Logs Banestorm, Campaign, GURPS, Recap

Banestorm: Old Friends

January 31, 2015 Rigil Kent No comments

The enemy fell like wheat being threshed.

Gabriel flowed through the forms – Kingfisher Circles the Pond batted aside a wild swing, setting the pirate up for Kissing the Adder; the man gasped at the lethal thrust, staggered a half step, and then fell on his face, dead or dying – and barked out a bitter laugh at the wide-eyed reaction from his sole remaining foe. The fool lunged forward and Gabriel did not even bother using a different set of forms, knowing the man would not recognize the insult being directed toward him. He let his eyes flicker away from the man very briefly as the pirate stumbled back and stared at the growing crimson stain on his leather jerkin. Most of the pirates were down and it seemed that his friends were mostly uninjured, though the crew could not quite say the same – Merasiël, especially, had been busy, it seemed and was standing in a ring of corpses, one of which was even missing his head! Rainald let fly a spear as Gabriel looked on and it pinned a fleeing pirate to Gestlin’s cart which made the Northman bellow out a laugh. The elf woman shouted something about the boats, but her words were lost to the wind as the fool in front of him finally collapsed to his knees. Gabriel’s smile deepened. Seven had fallen to him in a matter of seconds and he had taken no injuries worth noting. That was a good start. He glanced up the moment he realized the others were reacting to something..

The pirate ships. They were breaking away.

He was moving before he truly realized it. At his back, he heard the others calling out – Dane was issuing orders, he guessed, and Mera was snapping something in Elvish that was spoken too quickly for him to translate – but Gabriel’s attention was focused on those before him, not behind. There were only four on the deck of the boat closest to him, and he covered the distance to the other vessel with an easy, almost leisurely jump. The closest man gasped and abandoned his efforts cut free the ropes and scrambled back, going for the ridiculous weapon at his side. His face … dear God, he looked like Fat Tom.

Fourteen Years Ago

He was hungry.

His stomach rumbled nonstop and Gabriel grimaced at the uncomfortable sensation. For a moment, he considered his very few options – he’d spent the last of his coin the day before yesterday and Raphael was not a good place to be without money. He still had his father’s sword, of course, and the many skills he’d developed over the years, but the eyes of the city guard were particularly sharp at the moment since some damned fool had tried to murder the Archbishop. Gabriel wondered if it was the same sort of madness that had infected Craine.

He weaved his way through the crowds, divesting a few of the wealthier-looking patrons of their coin purses as they bartered and argued with the vendors – there was one particular close call as his victim reached for his money just as Gabriel cut it free, but he was able to divert attention away from him by stopping and beginning to pat himself down, an alarmed expression on his face as if he had just been robbed. Gabriel met the merchant’s eyes and shared an identical look with the man. Both cried out ‘Thief!’ at the same time and Gabriel joined the man in casting around for the ‘culprit.’

And fortune delivered a fool to take the blame. With a startled, backward look, a boy threw himself forward into a sprint, drawing all eyes. The merchant roared in anger and lurched after him, still shouting for the city guard. Gabriel waited for a moment, and then walked leisurely away.

He spent most of his ill-gotten coin on food – the meat pies were room temperature, the ale was old and watered down, but his stomach settled and his hands were no longer shaking from hunger – and relaxed with the last of his ale. The small tavern was comfortable-enough without feeling cramped and looked to mostly cater to those of a Mohammedian persuasion. In fact, Gabriel actually stood out, both with his features and his clothes. More than few of the larger men shot him irritated looks.

“You look to be lost, my friend,” a large man with dark skin and very wealthy-looking clothes said as he took a seat before Gabriel. Automatically, Gabriel tensed, readying himself for action should it be necessary, but the man before him suddenly grinned, his teeth bright against his dark beard. “Less lost, I think,” he said, “than hiding.”

“May I help you, friend?” Gabriel asked calmly. He did not allow himself to relax.

“Perhaps.” The man’s eyes flickered, taking in Gabriel’s posture as well as the rapier and knives he carried. “You have the bearing of a man who knows how to fight.” He grinned again. “I have need of such a man if you are seeking employment.” That caused Gabriel to blink. In his experience, few men were so open with their need for murder. “Forgive me!” the man said abruptly. “I have forgotten my manners! I am Sayyid Taimur bin Faakhir bin Taayib.” He offered a slight flourish. “I am but a humble merchant seeking wealth in the lands of the infidel and am putting together a wondrous caravan that will spread our name to the lands bereft of joy and beauty.” His eyes gleamed. “I have heard the stories of the Caithness barbarians and how they bed down with their horses and keep their women in the stables.” He shivered. “It will truly be an adventure to see such a thing!”

“I’ve been to Caithness,” Gabriel replied coolly. “And I do not recall men sleeping with horses.”

“Splendid!” The large man’s grew even wider. “Then you can serve as my native guide! We shall need one if we are to navigate the treacherous waters betwixt here and there!” He continued on, extolling the virtues of his grand expedition, all the while taking for granted that Gabriel would accompany him. Payment was mentioned once in passing, and then again when the man clearly saw Gabriel’s less than enthusiastic interest. Thinking of his limited funds and what he would have to do in order to gain more, Gabriel frowned.

“Very well,” he said. “I shall accompany you.” Sayyid Taimur grinned broadly. Within the hour, they would depart Raphael to begin their long, slow journey. Fat Tom as he was known, would become a good friend.

And a year later, he would fall screaming to a Saurian blade at Blythe.

Snow in High Wind sent the man with Fat Tom’s face onto the deck, blood seeping into the deck, and Gabriel felt more than heard a steady drumbeat from below. He flowed toward the next man, aware of Mera’s presence at his back as she side-stepped into view, her knives bathed in blood, and grinned darkly at the swordsman before him..

“If you were wise,” he said in his accented Arabic, “you would surrender.”

The man was not wise and, in a moment later, he was dead.

Banestorm, Player Characters Gabery

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Of Liberty and Arrest

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Of Freedom and Commerce

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Of Spirits and Slavers

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