DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Hall of Fame - Latest Top 10 completed games HHE: The Haunted Helm HHE4: Supper

GM

A crescent moon waned high above the cove, and rippled in reflection on the calm sea below.

Children's stories said the Moon was made of blue cheese. Although creamy white, it had what looked like blueberry veins. In a few more days it would be gobbled up and not visible in the night's sky at all. The New Moon.

The stars blazed on that clear, summer night, and there was still a faint but warm glow in the west where the Sun had passed.

Framed by the headland either side, a tall caravel drifted at anchor with its sails furled and an orange lantern lit in the stern.

Below in the town, the streets were only just rousing from siesta. Here and there people gathered to chat and smoke whilst the evening meal was cooked. There was merriment on the seafront at The Fat Firkin, crowded as it was with local fishermen and sailors from The Issitia.

At the top of the ravine, above the town, yellow light shone from the windows of Rosencliff's keep.

***

The Baronessa's chambers were more intimate than the lofty great hall, but still remarkably airy, with a high frescoed ceiling, tall windows and interior arches. The parlour was comfortable, with fur rugs from across the Dragon Empire and upholstered furniture. The dining table was smaller but more ornate than the one in the great hall, with a polished finish and a top inlaid with marble.

A lemony incense burned next to the windows and light was provided by a variety of candelabras, each burning crisp, white Horizon candles. There were Corcordian silk drapes, purple-flowered vines growing up the pillar and along the coving and other decorations, but you were struck by the lack of trophies and militaria, as you'd expect to find in most baronial chambers.

The Baronessa wouldn't be enamoured with such things, no, but what about her late husband? If he was, his widow had cleared the lot out, family heirlooms and all. To you, it further cemented her reputation as no shrinking violet.

You were seated at the table, together with Captain Achelus and the Seneschal. Achelus had changed into a shirt and leather jerkin, whilst the chief steward still wore a black houppelande but had donned a chaperon. After the heat of the day, the cool of night was felt more acutely on the coast, where the refreshing sea breeze suddenly became chilling.

You'd travelled down from the north though, so frankly however chilly it seemed to the locals, it was a welcome respite for you.

Lady Morgen had received you personally, wearing a more modestly cut gown of brown satin only a few shades darker than her skin. Yet the high neckline was ineffective at hiding her luscious curves, because the shimmering fabric accentuated each one in a way even her earlier, more revealing rose-coloured gown had not. It was artfully done and her hair was now worn up in a cone-like hennin, showing off her neck and jawline too.

She was laughing in delight as Jex the Jester described his late arrival to the fight aboard The Issitia, and weighing up whether to strike the undead with a magic spell or blast them overboard with his vomit. Most noblewomen would be disgusted by such talk at the dining table, but Lady Morgen found it hilarious. (Perhaps it was Jexric's honest, unrestrained humour that had gotten him invited in the first place.)

So far the conversation had dwelt on the undead, or the haunted helm at least. Together, you'd deduced that the wraith had appeared on speaking the name 'Gorulon Gorehound' aloud, and that may have been enough to invoke it.

Magical artefacts all had their own personalities and it was common knowledge that they could influence, even possess the wielder and vice versa. It was often hard enough just handling these personalities, let alone piling on curses and hauntings. The wraith that manifested from the helmet had spoken in the third person. It might not have been Gorulon's ghost per se, but the ghost of Gorulon's ghost!!

Despite the situation, that had also roused some laughter and was what led onto tales of your encounter with the Squall of the Dead that morning.

You noticed Lady Morgen stopped circling her goblet with her finger when it was said that D recognised one of the zombies and she hadn't touched her wine since.

The meal had started with potato omelettes and was now followed by a delicious roast vegetable dish, topped with fried eggs. It was tasty and you could eat your fill. It wasn't a banquet, but such lavishness didn't seem to be the Baronessa's way and considering the town's recent troubles, frugality was well advised anyway. Nevertheless, the Seneschal looked disappointed and somewhat bored by the meal, whilst the Captain was drinking himself into a stupor. You could see his strategy, to skip passed that intermediate phase of drunkenness where a man became emboldened and might proposition a nigh irresistible woman, even if she was nobility and his employer.

From his ready adoption of this strategy, you suspected that Achelus had called upon it many times before when dining with Lady Morgen. (The man obviously needed a spouse or a few weeks leave in Axis.)

There was an ebb and flow to the conversation around the table as you ate and drank. What else did you learn?

[[Each player should reveal something new and interesting about their character, relating to their One Unique Thing, Backgrounds or Icon Relationships. It can be true or untrue, and 'comes out in the conversation'. You can also ask questions about someone else's reveal, or question the NPCs.]]

Tindarien

There has been general chatter during the initial course and he is now enjoying the vegetable dish, relishing the subtle but individual flavours within it when there seems to be a lull in conversation and an instinct makes him look up to find the Baronessa's eyes on him. It seems that maybe it is his turn to contribute something to the evening. He reluctantly rests his fork, clearing his throat ready to speak.

"I grew up mostly without the direct influence of my parents who died when I was small. But I did grow up in their shadow as I was told stories of their deeds and the type of elves they were. Since I was small I have wanted to emulate their lives and maybe make more sense of their deaths."

"My parents founded an organisation called the Aurenaur e Du, dedicated to eradicating undead, to ensure that people were kept free of its blight. I too have a similar goal though I also have an interest in nature and maintaining its purity where possible, so you can see why this quest of ours appeals to me. I have been considering reforming the Aurenaur e Du and am also looking for potential recruits of a like mind."

He smiles, wondering how much interest there might be but accepting that it could take many years to find the right people.

Zoltan

He chooses a seat near the Baroness. He is wearing a long-sleeved white shirt, open at the neck and fit closely to show his sculpted muscles. Black pants and boots complete the outfit. He has left his hooded cloak behind and the tips of his horns can barely be seen thru his thick black hair.

He samples the wine, carefully ensuring he does not over-indulge. He dislikes both being a sloppy drunk and sloppy drunks so he frowns at the Captain's gulping of numerous glasses in quick succession.

He listens to the Baroness' comments, interjecting pleasantries and compliments from time to time into the conversation with a soft smile on his face.

As Tindarien speaks, he turns his head to listen. As he finishes he raises his glass. "To the successful completion of your goal." He says in toast.

His comments bring eyes in his direction, so he feels obligated to continue. "I, myself, have no parents." He pauses, then realizing that sounds a bit odd he adds. "Or rather better to say I don't know them. Never did. I grew up an orphan. Living on the streets of the Golden Citadel, right near the Red Wastes."

He takes a sip of his wine. "My heritage is plain to see, so I know who, or rather what, my father was. My mother", he shrugs, "No idea, other than she was elvish."

<Weston>

He was doing the 'tourist gawk' as he walked the halls to dinner. There was architecture here that he had not seen before, there were all manner of new 'things' to see on the walls, in the corners and the like. There was a bit of gawking at their host as well, but he did his best not to ogle. He knew enough to know that was not the sort of thing that one did around people like her.

As he listened to the escapades from Jexric's perspective, he suddenly wondered if the attack on the ship was tied to the problems here. While he didn't have any proof, it seemed a not unreasonable possibility.

The food was reassuringly recognizable ... and tasty! He lost track of the conversations for a bit as he focused on enjoying the food. Ship fare had been decent enough, but this was =good=.

Hearing Zoltan's story, he nods sympathetically. But it was something of a new found sympathy.

"It's interesting. You didn't have parents. I had two sets of parents. The ones that raised me and the ones that gave birth to me.

"I never really got to know my real parents. They died when I was still a baby. I only found out about them later on from the couple that raised me.

"My second mother found me crying in -- whom she believed -- was my real mother's arms. She handed me over along with this", he pulled the chain around his neck and a ring came out from under his shirt, "and asked her to care for her son."

"The couple that raised me, the ones that I had assumed for so long were my parents, were great people. They had been afraid to tell me the truth.

"I thought about it for a while. It was not what you expect to hear. But in the end, I told them that most children have parents that had no choice since their children were born to them. But I told my 'folks' that they had =chosen= to keep me, raise me and love me when they didn't need to." He was silent for a moment then smiled. "I think that they liked that. And I think that their selflessness is the main reason I was drawn to The Great Golden Wyrm."

[Ghosted for Khamsin]

Jex

He performed, there in the baronial chambers, just as he would on the streets of Glitterhaegen. It wasn't a conscious decision. Although bards were generally noted for their social skills, Jexric was somewhat lacking in that department. He was the unrepentant comedian, a jester, a multitalented entertainer. He didn't give a feckle about sensibilities, he only cared about making them laugh, dance, sing or just watch and listen.

There was a time and a place for everything though, and he wasn't going to jump onto the dining table when people, namely him, were still eating.

He wondered about the Order of Averness. He knew they were founded in the name of the 2nd Age paladin, Gedrick Averness, and carried on his monster slaying work. Jex also knew their symbol, the mace in the sun, surrounded by the laurel wreath.

It was interesting that the Order of Averness as an ambiguous entity was so well known, making their existence prosaic in most people's eyes. Yet what did anyone know about them? Who was one? How did you join? Did they offer meal coupons?

Jex washed down a mouthful of bread and olive oil with a draught of white wine. He eyed Weston, Zoltan and the Captain.

"I've heard it said that before they send you on a quest, the Order of Averness take you to their secret armoury, where they equip you with magical, alchemical and dwarvish contraptions of matchless -- indeed never actually described -- ingenuity." He said with a quizzical expression.

For his part, Jex wasn't so different from the dark elf, D, in that he preferred to talk about other people. He waved off questions about his past good naturedly, taking no offence but pretty sure no-one wanted to hear his story.

He summed it up in few words. "Slave. Plaything. Dragon bait."

Heilbutt

"Nein, it is true!" He said, explaining to Seyja, "In the Wake Islands, our fathers name us after the last thing they killed before our birth, be it a man or an animal!"

<Weston>

He caught 'the look' but mostly ignored it. Instead he chuckled at the Jester's comment. "I wouldn't know. They fished me out of the city lockup ... to help keep you alive", he finished with a grin before he went back to nibbling on the great bounty spread before him.

[Ghosted for Owain]

Nestaron

He wiped his top lip on a napkin, frowning.

"Tindarien, you should be careful what flames you rekindle. Some die, or are snuffed out, for a reason." He said.

Nestaron was a half elf, some said he was a holy man. He had certainly lectured in the forums of Santa Cora, and sermonised in the Cathedral itself. But that wasn't who he was. His heart belonged to the wilderness, the less travelled paths, where every day offerred new perspectives and lessons to be learned. Where he was needed and could be of some use.

It was that last point he tried to get across over supper. If there was any term that could describe him, he wouldn't choose 'holy man', he'd say that he simply tried to be a "good friend".

[Ghosted for Khamsin]

Jex

He shook his head in mock disappointment at Weston's comments, twizzling the fork in his fingers.

"So that sword you carry doesn't sprout wings and attack foes at your command?"

Zoltan

He too chuckles at Jex's comment. "Must be a different group under the same name. Either that, or they do it for those who they actually like."

Unsaid, but implied is that his relationship with the Order is not completely happy.

[Ghosted for Khamsin]

Jex

He shrugged sympathetically at Zoltan's words.

"Well your heritage may put some silly doubt in their minds, but of course it's not your fault you have elvish blood." He said, putting a humourous spin on it.

<Weston>

"You are welcome to see if you can get my sword to fly. It would be great if it would. Then I could stand back and let it work while I was a safe distance away", he said chucking.

D

He listened and kept quiet for quite some time. At the baroness'es glance with regard to the zombie leader on the ship he just nodded simply. Digging into his food he sampled a wide array of the fare available. The only thing he didn't take much of, was the wine. He sipped it, but he kept his glass mostly full and only had one. He did however drink water a plenty.

When the turn came he offered "the name I carry now is Pale Dusk. It is as much an apt description as anything else. This is not my first life, nor will it be my last, I suspect. I haven't spoken of it much because many questions arise that I cannot answer. Thing spoken of tonight remind me of things in my past, vague memories of what might have gone before. What I do know is that I wasn't a nice person long ago. In this life I choose to not only learn of my past, but learn from my past."

He seemed content to stop there. But when pressed later he continued "one bit of life I do remember was that of being something truly horrific. An undead killer of great renown. I am glad to be alive now, and I will end the thing that held me to that life, no matter what it takes." His eyes burn with an inner fire that shows how fervently he believes his own statement.

Seyja


She'd made no effort to arrange her hair stylishly, having it clean was enough to suit her, and it hung down near shoulder length, not quite reaching the collar of her brown tunic which she wore over her knee-length leather pants.

"So your father killed the butt of a what? What is a heil?" Seyja laughed and looked back to her food.

Normally she cared little for fancy talk and fancy food, but, fancy or not, the food they'd been served was tasty. She refused the wine though, and requested ale instead.

She had almost finished her second helping of the vegetable dish, washing down a large bite with a pull on her ale and then rubbing her stomach and belching.

"My name is that of my grandmother, long gone, and means Storm."

Seyja's gaze grew distant, unfocused, and she looked around the room without seeing anything inside its walls.

"My kin are all dead... except a cousin or two. Maybe my uncle lives."

Tindarien

He smiles at Nestaron, knowing the man is only thinking of Tindarien's welfare.

"I will see where the path leads. It may take me in a very different direction."

He listens politely to everyone else, nodding, smiling occasionally until Pale dusk speaks out where he sits up listening intently.

"I would hear more later if you are willing to converse?"

He gets the impression that this is not a comfortable topic.

Heilbutt

The half-orc flushed red at the laughter, unsure how to respond. In his clan, to accept ridicule was to accept one's betters, and it wasn't something he did lightly. But then he had accepted Seyja as his better the first moment he saw her.

Maybe that was the true reason why he was blushing. So he explained in a mumble.

"Not a butt of heil. A heilbutt. He was fishing on the day I was born."

[Ghosted for Khamsin]

Jex

Although bantering with Weston and Zoltan, he couldn't help overhearing the enormous half-orc saying his was named after a fish!?

"You don't - you don't mean a large flatfish, with very juicy white flesh?" He quizzed.

Seeing Heilbutt shrug in agreement, Jexric's jaw fell open.

"So translated, your actual name is 'Halibut'!!"

This was the funniest thing he'd heard all day.

Captain Achelus
(to Weston)

"Did they e'er find your parent's assailants!?" He asked, having listened to the other man's story. By now his words were slurring slightly.

"I was a constable in Axis, you know! Oh sure, I've heard of you all right. Bit of a reputation with the law as a rebel-rouser and with the crims as a troublemaker.

"I'm just wondering, if your parents were the same way inclined *hic!* they might have fallen foul of some local villain.

"If so, I'll tell you one thing about that city, its dirty secrets are never forgotten.

"Am I right, Zoltan, old man, or am I right?"

D

He nodded in agreement to discuss things further. He wasn't sure what he would say or even talk about. But he had to come to terms with the past one way or another.

The pale dark elf looks annoyed at either the drunken buffoon's prying, or manners, or both. He remains his taciturn self and says nothing.

Seyja


Seyja looked from the half-orc to Jex and then back to Heilbutt. Then she laughed uproariously, spraying half her last swallow of ale around the table.

"So..." she choked, swallowed and tried again.

"So your father named you that just for the halibut?"

<Weston>

"I never found out who my birth parents were", he said sadly. While it =did= bother him in an intellectual way ... "But I was luckier than most in that I had 'parents' who loved me and raised me right. So, yeah, when I see someone taking advantage of others, I get involved. And, unfortunately, that has gotten me into trouble with 'the establishment' who, some times, seem more interested in minimizing the effort they have to expend."

D

"I find it interesting that so many of us are without a history in one form or another, parents, forgotten past." He waved a hand in a dismissive fashion. "Possibly it is our attraction to the adventuresome world, or righting wrongs. Just interesting."

Zoltan

He frowns as the drunken Captain talks to him. His respect for the man has dropped a few notches. He can see it is possibly due to unrequited love, or perhaps lust, of the Baroness, but to him that is no excuse. No one in a position of responsibility for others, armed responsibility at that, should allow themselves to become so besotted that their judgement becomes clouded.

"It is to prepare the world for heaven." He replies simply to Pale Dusk.

[Ghosted for Khamsin]

Jex

"H-Halibut the Barbarian!" He wheezed in laughter, wiping his eyes.

Captain Achelus
(to Weston)

He saw Zoltan's look and put his hand over his goblet when the Seneschal offered to refill it.

Trying to gather his marbles, he continued speaking to Weston.

"Well Weston, I'm glad you're here! And if you e'er need a man at your back in Axis, while you chase down the murtherers that... murthered your parents, I am your man!"

Seneschal

With a wickedly sharp eye on the servants, he ensured that the food and drink was served promptly and properly for their guests.

Once he had to turn a venomous look on one of the maids, who set a plate to the table too forcefully. The noise it made was uncordial and suggested an insolent household, which just would not do. He smirked when the barbarian woman had asked for ale. He knew one of them, either her or the revolting half-orc, would try to belittle him in this way. He was prepared and had a cask brought up from the tavern that afternoon. A localled brewed mild with a rich brown colour.

He was brought back to the moment by the Captain's refusal of drink. The Seneschal lowered the flagon in surprise, then disdain.

"I'm sure the good sir would find your investigative skills quite indispensible, Captain."

D

"Is possible," he agrees with Zoltan. "I profess to known not. Ultimately it doesn't matter. The choice I have made serves my own purposes. Should it align with such a lofty goal, I am happy to have it so."

At the exchange from the Captain and on to the Seneschal's words, D can't help but frown ever so slightly. Only someone paying quite a bit of attention would notice the flicker of emotion that crossed his visage. It is gone in an instant as he recovers his composure.

The humor at the poor orc's name doesn't seem to faze D. To him names are just something that exists, whether or not you ascribe meaning to them, that is your choice. Certainly he had when he chose his own moniker, but others might not, and that matter not to him.

[Ghosted for Owain]

Nestaron

He spoke to D and Zoltan.

"I know little of Heaven, but of Hell I will say that it cannot be fought with armies. The demons are not invaders or conquerors, like the Crusader would have us think. Those ideas reveal more about him than the demons.

"The demons want only to feast on our souls and cannot resist that one desire. They shouldn't be thought of as a rampaging horde. They are fire. They burn, they consume, they destroy.

"Some, like the Diabolist, would say that fire can be harnessed. Maybe it can. But it will always be fire and if unleashed..."

He sipped his wine and broke off a hunk of bread.

"Sorry. My point is: Whenever you explain to yourself, that what you do is for a greater good, you risk losing sight of what 'good' is."

Heilbutt

Well now he just looked confused, looking around for anyone who could explain the joke.

"The halibut is a noble fish, most prized amongst the bounty of the depths."

<Weston>

He saw the 'exchange of glances' between Zoltan and the Captain. For all his alleged piety, Zoltan had plenty of failings of his own, as did most people. So it seemed a bit hypocritical, of him. In stead of making a scene about that, he ignored that and instead nodded at the seneschal's remark and smiled at the Captain. "I =do= appreciate the offer. If I ever learn anything, I will be sure to seek your aid."

(OOC - MikeD - To clarify. Zoltan is certainly 'pious', but not in the way we think of piety. He is fanatical in his belief and following his god, but his god doesn't care about petty things like drinking, fornication, gambling, killing, and such. So what Weston may see as failings, are not failings for Zoltan.)

[[ Oh I get that. No, Weston was 'thinking out loud' more along the lines of how ironic it was that Zoltan was 'thinking badly' about a man who 'failed' and lost his sobriety while he, himself, has a tendency to 'fail' and lose his temper ... at least that is the impression he was given by those who recruited him <weg>

And Weston hasn't seen any reason to =completely= discount that ... yet <wink> ]]

Seyja


Her laughter dying down to an occasional chuckle, Seyja cocked her head to one side and gave Heilbutt an appraising stare, wondering if he was just pretending not to get the joke.

No, she decided after a moment, he really didn't get it.

"Just a joke... it struck me that halibut sounded sorta like hell of it if you said it fast."

She leaned toward the half-orc and slapped his shoulder.

"Just struck me as funny."

[Ghosted for Khamsin]

Jex

He sighed and caught his breath, and seeing Heilbutt put somewhat at ease by Seyja, he followed her lead.

Jex poured some of that ale into their goblets and raised his.

"Well said. To the mighty halibut! A fine fish indeed."

Tindarien

There are several conversations going on and some laughter. He cannot follow all of them and is currently focused on the discussion between D and Zoltan, two people who interest him.

He responds to D's early comment.

"So your thinking is that those of us that lack a firm beginning in life might be looking for something more and that makes us more likely to take up the call to adventure? Interesting theory and probably right in my case."

<Weston>

He looked at Tindarien and shrugged. "Maybe I am the exception that proves the rule. I had a pretty decent upbringing. Better than a =lot= of folks all things considered. And the fact that I was ... 'adopted' ... I didn't know =that= until much later. No, I got into this when it became clear to me that I was not cut out for my 'fathers' business, running caravans."

Seyja


She smiled and nodded, lifted her tankard and intoned, "Well, here goes all our woes!"

Seyja's expression grew solemn, even troubled, for a moment, but she forced a smile back onto her face and drank down a healthy gulp of the ale.

GM

Heilbutt toasted the halibut and quaffed another cup of the brown ale. He thought Seyja was sharply minded to have asked for the ale. It hadn't occurred to him. He took things at face value. No ale on offer meant there was no ale. At least he was learning something on this trip, rather than just acting as the mule like he did for Fuldroik.

The Baronessa sat and watched the rest of you seated at her table. She sliced wafers from a sausage with an ornate khanjar, eating them straight off of the sharp, curved blade.

She looked very relaxed, but for the subtle roving of her eye, and shifting of her head to hear better. Her Ladyship was far from bored, she was ferociously interested in her guests, but was physically nonchalant by nature.

Having heard aplenty, she finally spoke.

"Is 'who a man is', what he has done, or what he may do? Is it where he is from, or who his parents are?

"It is what he does. In this moment, with his next breath. And I think what has drawn you to this life you lead," she said, "is that you know this."

Lady Morgen smiled, sly, sultry. "But do you know you know this? That is a question."

A pause.

Clearing his throat, Captain Achelus pushed out his chair.

"Milady, my thanks! You have been a delight as always, but with my next breath I must bid you a good night, I deem.

"Perhaps our esteemed guests would like to join me for a smoke?"

[[Captain Achelus will take a walk along the wall and smoke a pipe. You can join him, or stay, or any alternative you wish. Indicate whether you wish to play out scene, otherwise we will scene-shift to morning.]]

[OOC D would stay and talk to learn more of her ladyship. But I am fine with glossing over that and heading to the morning post. Even a little note as to what might have been learned.]

Tindarien

He smiles at Weston & the Baronessa's responses and figures out that this announcement by the captain is an invitation to follow observed practice here. Having finished his food, he tops up his initial cup of wine and moves to accompany the captain, intending to stay upwind of any smoke and to enjoy the fresh night air before retiring.

Zoltan

Zoltan nods to the Captain as he rises to leave. Zoltan himself remains in the company of the Baroness and continues the conversation. All things being equal, the Baroness is easier on the eyes than Captain Achelus.

(OOC - Am fine moving on whenever you are.)

<Weston>

With so many leaving, it seemed as though it would be OK for him to leave as well. He didn't have much interest in more drinking or in standing around the pipe smoking Captain. He decided he was ready to get some sleep.

D

D sat and toyed with his wine goblet as people stood to leave.

Seyja


There was a considerable amount of pretty good ale left and Seyja decided to keep it company, at least for a while longer.

She downed another tankard full and began to sing in a happy but not overly boisterous tone.

"Glorious, glorious,
One keg of ale for the for of us.
Thanks to the gods there's no more of us,
'Cause one of us could drink it all alone."

[Ghosted for Khamsin]

Jex

He stayed while he was welcome, and accompanied Seyja was his lute and his own goblet.

The bard had a sneaking suspicion that this would rile the Seneschal.

[Ghosted for Owain]

Nestaron

He nodded to Heilbutt and pushed out his own chair.

"Our thanks for your hospitality, Ladyship. We have enjoyed our day here, but tomorrow will be an early rise. I promised Master Casados of The Issitia we'd see them off, before we also set out.

"So on on behalf of our party, I bid you a pleasant evening."

Making sure his half-orc companion was in tow, Nestaron headed straight for their apartments with Weston. He wanted to be asleep by the time Seyja and Jex rolled in.

Nestaron didn't disapprove of their behaviour one jot, but he always liked to watch the sunrise in the morning and at this time of year, that was early.

GM

The Seneschal twiddled his thumbs and forced a neutral expression onto his face, as Seyja and Jex decided to stay and finish off the ale. Was the local mild that good? He didn't drink it himself. Maybe they would've stayed for any ale. Louts.

The Baronessa grinned and watched Jexric's technique, the swivelling of the wrist, playing with thumb and fingers.

"I like this style of yours, Señor Jex." She said, rather amusingly pronouncing his name Hex, "It reminds me of a home I once had."

The Seneschal sniffed, saying, "I rather prefer a humble madrigal myself."

Lady Morgen curled her lip and huffed, "Ah, the perfect music to slit your wrists by!"

"Some solemnity might be appropriate, milady? These are troubled times."

"And those are exactly the times that you need passion for life! That is the meaning of the music of the flame, flamenco, born amongst the gypsies of the Empire's South."

The Seneschal held his hands up in mock surrender, then bowed his head in deference.

"Alas, I am a Northerner like your late husband, milady. My ignorance of the South has always been a terrible burden on me. I shall withdraw and leave you with our guests. The guards are outside if---"

"Thank you, Seneschal," Lady Morgen said, "please send in my handmaidens."

The Seneschal bowed curtly and left through the main archway, pausing to inspect the guards standing either side.

The Baronessa watched him go with a subtle, perhaps exasperated shake of her head.

She sipped her wine and smiled charmingly at you.

"Pay no heed to my Seneschal. You are fine company."

***

Out on the battlements, the Captain had unpocketed a tobacco pouch and stuffed a clay pipe with remarkable assuredness for a drunkard. He lit the pipe with a tindertwig and leaned with his foot on one of the crenels.

From here, they had a view inland. It wasn't one Tindarien had seen up till now.

On a summer night like this, there was a lingering luminance to the sky. The stars dazzled, but it was the myriad of subtle, cosmic shades between them that gave it the breathtaking depth and beauty.

The high elf saw one of the flying realms far overhead, a darker mass against the cosmic backdrop, a floating island, speckled with clusters of yellow light. Civilisation. It was commonly called Clock Land, and signalled midnight.

Below, the land south of town seemed ill-defined, jumbled. Pale rock terraces topped with dark forest, criss-crossing into the night. It was hard enough to navigate by eye, even those as keen as Tindarien's, navigating by foot, under a hot sun was going to be a slog.

Achelus was puffing smoke, watching the high elf out of the corner of his eye.

"Just stick to the river, it will lead you right to the Titan's Elbow." He said, sounding entirely sober.

Seyja


"He's hard to ignore, Lady," Seyja said as she refilled her tankard from the keg which was now almost empty.

"He looks like his upper lip smells bad."

D

He watched and listened. "His type are everywhere," he commented softly. "I imagine that you keep him around because he is efficient, though to be fair that is just a guess."

He considered for a moment and then decided direct was better than any other way. "Have we met? Before that is?"

Tindarien

He is content to enjoy the night air and the silence but the captain feels a need to say something. Tindarien had been tracing their proposed route with his eyes as best he can, just in case it revealed anything.

He turns slowly to look at the Captain. Either he is a good actor. either pretending to be drunk before or sober now.. or that pipe smoke has some miraculous properties.

"The knight went the other way. Was he given this same advice? And apart from it being shorter, are then any other reasons to support taking the river route?"

Zoltan

He sips at his wine, listens to the music, and watches as the Seneschal takes his leave.

At the Baroness' words he shakes his head. "We pale in comparison, my Lady. You grace us with your company."

As Jex continues to play, he stands, holding out a hand. "Might I be so presumptuous as to ask you to dance? It is music that needs movement to fully appreciate I think, yes?"

GM

She chuckled at Seyja's comment about the Seneschal, answering D's with a shrug.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps I merely prefer him 'under my nose', rather than in the North, peddling tittle-tattle to my late husband's relatives."

Lady Morgen dunked one of the small wild strawberries in clotted cream and popped it her mouth. She chewed and regarded D with narrowed eyes.

"I do not think we have met before, Señor. I can count all of the drow I have met on one hand and know them all by name. You are not one of them."

There was an undercurrent of unease when she talked to D. She was tense. Why, D couldn't say, but he couldn't say why he he felt the same in her presence either. It wasn't emotional. It felt more like dizziness, a physical sensation.

She watched Jex's fancy finger-work for a while and grinned at Seyja's song. Zoltan's proposal split her grin into a dazzling smile and throaty laugh.

"Ah, I heard you are bold, Zoltan Molnar." She smirked, "And I am sure, not just bold in words."

Two handmaidens stepped into the room awkwardly and curtsied. The Baronessa nodded to them, then turned back to Zoltan and the others.

"But it is late. Where you are going, you will have need of your boldness. The Titan's Elbow is a challenge that has not been bested in a hundreds years or more.

"Return to me when you are done and we shall dance," she said to Zoltan, standing and nodding to Seyja, D and Jex, "and find you what reward we can."

She smoothed down her gown.

"Good night, my friends."

***

Captain Achelus wandered over, keeping his smoke downwind of Tindarien.

"The knight had horses. The river gorge isn't passable to them, so he had to take the trail along the ridgeline. The Scintilla's a fast-flowing river, so I'm told, and she gets a little hairy in places. But the high ground is slower, indirect. With the drop-offs, you're up against dead ends and hairpins all the way.

"You can how rugged it is, even by night. Huh, Titan's Elbow, eh... I wouldn't be surprised if the entire land hereabouts was dropped by a giant from great height. Made a right bloody mess."

He pressed his thumb into the pipe bowl to keep the ember burning. He looked seriously at the high elf, and Tindarien knew the man wasn't drunk then.

"I tell you this because you're not here at the behest of the Order and may not understand the dangers. It might seem like folk tales and a few days hike in the country, but no-one ever ventures inland around the Sword Point, do they? No, they don't. To most people, it's all bare cliffs and quaint fishing towns.

"But something out there did in Sir Edward the Red, a seasoned knight and monster slayer, despite his flaws. We've got a helm downstairs that's haunted by a champion gladiator. And there's far more to Her Ladyship, the Baronessa than meets the eye.

"You and your people be careful out there."

Zoltan

He drops his hand smoothly, and offers a smart bow as the Baroness makes to leave.

"So you have just assured the success of our mission, then, as nothing will keep me from that promise." He smiles broadly.

Seyja


Seyja got to her feet, swayed ever so slightly for just a second and then held up her tankard in a toasting gesture.

"Sleep well, Lady, and thanks for the ale."

D

He had heard her words and believed her. She didn't know this form. That in some ways was comforting, yet in other was not so much. He nodded and wondered at what he felt. Was this what the little demon cat was directing him to her for? And if so, what other agenda did it have? Nothing ever used another without something of its own interests. That much he had learned over and over and over again.

He stood when she did. It was a stiff formal movement, but he bowed her out. Then with a flip tossed back the last of his single cup of wine and turned to head to their resting places. He had learned what little he could, more would come should he survive, that much he would make sure of.

Tindarien

He uses silence and a raised eyebrow at the comments about the Baronessa in the hope that the Captain will say more.

"And I do so like a man that can get things done." The Lady said, nodding her approval to Zoltan with a lop-sided grin.

She was amused by Seyja's words, though took them in good grace, saying sincerely.

"You have already earnt it, Señora. And I trust you will also sleep well."

She gave a smile to D and Jex, then turned leisurely and slinked from the room, followed by her handmaidens.

The young page appeared in the archway as you were leaving and gave you a cheery salute for that time of night.

"Top of de evening to yis! Show yis to yer lodgings, or to de wall wid yer mate - er, pal - er, dat elf fellow? Sir."

The lad meant to be respectful, even if he wasn't fully conversant in courtly ways.

***

Captain Achelus squinted at Tindarien's eyebrow, as if interpretting it.

"The Baronessa?" He asked rhetorically, "A southern gypsy, using her charms to gain a coveted foothold in the Empire's nobility. Maybe, but that's not all she is and that's not really why I'm here.

"She has some magical ability, from what we can tell. She can talk to the Fey and her way with animals is uncanny.

"But she has been making all sorts of unsavoury acquaintances in the Seven Cities, and that's what peaked our interest."

Achelus gave his pipe a second light, once the looser stuff on top had burned away.

"We're just keeping a friendly eye on her." He said to the high elf with a wink, "Simply put, we don't know who she is. Our investigations have turned up sod all about her past. So the Order wants to ensure she doesn't fall in with the wrong crowd. For her own good, and that of her Barony."

D

He will say to the page "I am happy to return to my quarters." He didn't feel overly social and it should be quiet there, which suited his mood.

Seyja


She took another swallow of ale, grimaced and opened and closed her mouth, making a schlock-schlock sound, her expression looking as if suddenly the ale had developed a bad taste.

Deciding she'd had enough for one evening, Seyja headed for her bed.

<Weston>

He nodded when D entered. "I take it you were 'done' with the 'festivities' as well", he said with a grin.

D

"Such as they were, yes. I can't complain about the fare or hospitality. I am curious what it is that makes the Lady different, but I am alright with not knowing. I am more curious about the ghost and learning about the treasure."

Tindarien

"Interesting Captain.. and I understand your concerns. I will heed your caution and maintain your confidence."

He takes another deep breath of air and then bids the Captain a good night, intending to head to their quarters to get some sleep.

[[You're free to talk in your lodgings. To signal you're ready to move on, just indicate your character is going to sleep. Thanks.]]

<Weston>

"Well", he said to D, "I have not had much contact with this sort fare, so don't know how to 'rate' this compared to other things like it. But it is well beyond what I normally have ... how will I ever be able to go back to hard tack and roast buzzard", he finished with a big smile. "Not sure how to take Her Ladyship either. She seems a lot more ... 'down to earth' than the sort I see in Axis. That is something I can appreciate."

D

"Yes she is different, probably heralding from her mysterious background. Oh well a puzzle to be sorted another day." He moved to the window to look out at the nightscape. He was clearly still awake and probably willing to talk, but had nothing meaningful to say.

<Weston>

Not being much of a 'conversationalist', he didn't have any real idea how to 'carry on a conversation'. He shrugged into the silence and, not having any idea what to say, decided to make a night of it.

[Ghosted for Khamsin]

Jex

He enjoyed his play-time with the lute, soaring through the fast tempo folk tune with completely natural ease, a genuine, gap-toothed smile on his face.

Jex looked amused and fascinated by the Baronessa's comparison to southern gypsy music. He'd actually learnt it amongst the inbred thralls of Drakkenhall. Some of those chinless wonders could play!

When the time came he wished the Baronessa a good night, and finishing off his ale, and his wine, he left with the others.

He settled into the bed of cushions he'd made himself, stretched and sighed.

"Well I'm hitting the sack. If anyone needs to pull their pudding, I'll thank you to keep it down and point it that way." He said, gesturing haphazardly over the railing of the loggia.

He was soon asleep.

Zoltan

Watching the Baroness leave he offers a sigh of regret. Then seeing people leaving and heading back to the apartments he turns and heads the other way. Back out into the town and to the inn where they had lunch, and where there was a nicely buxom dark-haired lass he wanted to make better acquaintance of.

He finally returns to the shared apartments, early in the morning, a small smile on his face. If anyone has remained awake late he will chat for a bit with them and then hit the sack.

[Ghosted for Owain]

Nestaron

He sat cross-legged on one of the squat tables, staring out into the night with glassy eyes, lost in absence of thought.

Once his mind was settled, the half-elf laid on his back on a reed mat and slept.

He knew Heilbutt would doze next to the door. The half-orc's former master, the dwarven ranger Fuldroik must have used him as a guard dog so often, it had become second nature. Nestaron suspected that Fuldroik himself slept well most nights.

GM

Tindarien slipped through the door, trying not to disturb his companions if they were sleeping.

Half through the door, he heard a rustle of cloth to his right, turned and met Heilbutt's eyes as the half-orc drew back his spear. Recognising Tindarien, Heilbutt's war face fell into a dumb face and he lowered his weapon, pretending to be testing its heft.

Seyja


The mention of southern gypsy music dampened her enjoyment of the ale and the food and so Seyja made her way to their sleeping quarters.

Once there, she undressed, ignoring the others and went to bed.

Tindarien

"Goodnight Heilbutt."

He murmurs his greeting, pleased that his companion is alert and on guard. It is his usual stance at night and Tindarien wonders if the half-orc ever gets enough rest.. but he seems fine by it.

He heads into his room and settle down to sleep, wondering what tomorrow might bring.

D

Having not found sleep easy to come by since he could remember, which wasn't all that long ago. He was one of the last to finally give in and lay down for an attempt. This time sleep came, but it brought odd dreams. Dreams he hoped would end, and not remember in the morning.

GM

Heilbutt looked awkward as the high elf walked casually by. He rested the butt of his spear on the ground and shook his head to wake himself up.

He glanced to the open arches of the loggia. The stars were out but at this time of year it couldn't be long until first light, even if they were farther south.

The half-orc slumped against the wall and tried to stay awake.

Everyone else slumbered.

But elsewhere in the land, you were spoken of in the night.

[Go to HHE5: Interlude]