Aedan
(1) ’Calm yourself, mortal. I mean you no harm.
The mortal only looks on in terror at your words. Then you hear another voice.
"Let see, a mine, good, I like mines. You, umm, what is it? Ah, dwarf. Where am I? I mean, where are we?"
The dwarf pales even further as he hears this. He stammers, searching for words. ‘B...b… Blackwood.’ On the last syllable he turns, and begins to run. he doesn’t stop until he has left your sight.
Sighing, you frown at your partner. Then, wordless, you set off after the mortal, walking slowly, looking for someplace to call home. About half a days walk later, you stand on the edge of a rocky precipice. To either side, the drop slopes downwards, until it become passable almost directly opposite you. Cradled in this cliff, is a large town, filling the area within and spreading into the rock itself.
Your attention is drawn by a commotion in the square in the town centre. A number of torches flare, and the sounds of argument reach your ears softly in the night air. Soon, however, the embers drift back towards a large doorway below you, and as the slabs close behind them you hear briefly the sounds of laughter and revelry.
Now your mind turns to more immediate matters. You need somewhere to rest. After all, whilst the animals may be smart enough to leave you alone, mortals may not. You find a few suitable places, and spend the week scouting them out, and making them fit for habitation. The first is a small cave, set in an outcropping around ten minutes walk from the cliff. The second, a somewhat worryingly large burrow, the entrance concealed inside a hollow tree. It lies another hour further from the town however. The final potential base is a small abandoned tower, overlooking the passage into the occupied basin. It would allow you access to the dwarves without first descending the cliff, but at a greater risk of discovery.
Tela Venenatus
The other demon speaks.
’Calm yourself, mortal. I mean you no harm.
The mortal only looks on in terror at these words. Then you say your part. (2)
"Let see, a mine, good, I like mines. You, umm, what is it? Ah, dwarf. Where am I? I mean, where are we?"
The dwarf pales even further as he hears this. He stammers, searching for words. ‘B...b… Blackwood.’ On the last syllable he turns, and begins to run. he doesn’t stop until he has left your sight.
As you turn to your partner he sighs, and departs, leaving you alone. It takes only a moments hesitation for you to enter the mine, and your eyes adjust to the gloom rapidly. the entrance corridor is straight, descending gently down into the depths. A rail track runs along the ground, and torches dot the walls at intervals. The supports, whilst old, seem structurally intact. Further down it branches into an open chamber, where a number of winding side passages branch off. Taking the first to catch your eye, it leads down a winding route - at one point passing by a subterranean spring - with the main passage eventually ending in a large natural cavern. A few creatures are the only opposition to your ownership of the mine, (4) and they slowly learn to serve you, or are torn apart by the creatures that do. Among their number are two viscous looking, ape like creatures, with gaunt bodies and viscous claws, a small family of giant bats, five of serviceable age, and one reptilian quadruped, roughly the size and shape of a horse, but far more thick set and with a triplet of horns arrayed on it’s brow.
(8 ) Trapping the dungeon is made much easier by your improvised work force. A number of stone fall traps and net traps - made from cavern vegetation - are established, the floor of the entrance hall polished to hinder escape, and even a small drowning chamber established next to the spring, triggered by a concealed trip wire on the ground.
Whilst your minions work, you leave to scout out the area. (4) Using your chaos magic, you disguise yourself as a dwarf, and follow the tracks of the fleeing hunter to the nearby town. It rests in a natural basin, protected by cliffs that descend to ground height only at a single point. You enter here, having little other options, and go unchallenged. The tip of a tower can just be seen in the distance, but it appears to be abandoned. You attract a number of strange looks in the town, but the inhabitants are happy to buy your story of being a far travelling trapper, with a camp a short distance from the town. They even lead you to the tavern, carved directly into the cliff face, where a familiar dwarf tells his tale of things fallen from the skies to a drunken audience, laughing and cheering his story along. You sense there is no immediate threat from these people.
Apart from this, the town seems on the verge of ruin. The market square seems empty of foreign trade, and only a few farmers and hunters sell their wares, mostly to each other. Some quarter of the dwellings appear empty, and the same again look as if they will be soon. Mostly the people appear to be making their profit from travellers, seeking refuge in the well protected town for the night.
Seeing nothing else, you return to your dungeon to find the work completed, and smile to yourself. Even the cavern feels more homely, the walls strewn with webs. You climb them, sitting in the corner of the ceiling, deciding on your next move.
Maximus Augustus Xelion
(3) ’Pardon me for the disturbance. What a beautiful baby that is.’
You reach out to touch the child, but the mother takes a swift step backwards, stumbling slightly. You sigh, and turn to the men. ’Would either of you gentlemen happen to know whereabouts the…. hired blades of this place gather?’ The first man shakes his head, and backs away, whilst the second simply pulls his wife close to. Another sigh later, and you stride into the main market place, making enquiries with promising looking stallholders. (1) However, the searching reveals few leads, and they in turn lead to nothing. It comes as no surprise when evening falls and you have made no progress. the remaining week is equally unfortunate.
You do, on the other hand, find a number of interesting properties. Most of them are occupied, and much better fortified for it. the most luxurious uninhabited building is an old warehouse, smelling slightly of fish. Security is lax, and you spend at least one night sheltered there as a storm batters the sea front. On the other end of the scale is a manor house next door to the palace. It possesses it’s own security team, and is ringed by a foot thick wall. through the gate you can see only the gardens. The plaque on said gates tells you it is owned by one ‘T.Elliott, Merchant to the Masses.’ In the middle is a somewhat more humble house, home to one of the fishmongers from the market. clearly fish is a profitable enterprise here, for through the railings you can clearly see the two story construction, it’s facade ornate, though not extravagant.
On the last night of the week, however, you hear a muffled scream from an alley. A man holds a woman with a blade to her throat, whilst another reaches for a locket around her neck.
‘Pretty bauble, this is. Not enough to cover your payments, however. Now, we all know how…. unfortunate it would be if you weren’t to pay up, don’t we? Especially when the contractors need a wage al- ‘ The man looks up to see you standing in the alleyway entrance, and pauses for a moment. ‘None of your business, sir. Move on, and we’ll all forget this ever happened.’
Shistus Primulus
You decide your first priority would be to find yourself a base. Of course, the skull would certainly make a nice ornament for any home, and so you take it with you. The most suitable place you can find is just around the corner from the grotto, a nice deep cave, occupied only by the bones of some sort of large serpent. You settle the skull amongst them for now, until you find some other use for it.
Then you set to exploring the locale. It takes a few days to get to grips with it, and you don’t see any other life in that time. You do, however, find a fresh corpse of some sort of gigantic deer a short distance away, accompanied by the corpse of a half eaten dwarf, whose bolt is embedded in his quarry’s side. Around half a days travel further, you find a relatively well trodden trail, winding down into the foothills far in the distance. The footprints on the path seem to be from all manner of creatures however, not just humanoids, although there are a fair number of them too. It is impossible to tell which are fresh and which are not.
You also find some evidence of another hermit in the nearby, in addition to the deer. Following the path of the stream eventually leads you to a pool, clearly made by hand, and another game trail passing from it up over into the next valley over. Out of courtesy, you decide to leave some time to settle in before disturbing your neighbour.
Ashu-Karn
You take the woman's head in your hand, gently but firmly.
’Human. Flesh. Where village, home? Where is cave or tunnel beneath earth? Speak and not harm.’
Then you turn to the child, holding the head still.
’Child. Here. No harm. come. Speak.’
(4) The woman does not speak. Instead, she simply raises a hand and points, back along one path into the trees. The child, unafraid, nods agreement. Gesturing for her to lead you, she walks, shaking, ahead of you. The child follows behind, torn between curiosity and trust of his mother. As the village emerges through the mists, and the people clustered around the fires turn with horror towards you, it even reaches for your hand. The mother looks back at you, pleading, and speaks for the second time to you.
(6) ‘Kimba…. what do you want from me? Anything, as long as you don’t hurt him.’ Your gaze falls upon the fires, and the huts, and the villagers frozen in fear. She follows this, and whimpers, but she nods, and turns towards the largest of the constructions. Soon, argument can be heard from within, and then a bloodcurdling scream. The woman re emerges soon after, a red stained knife of volcanic glass in one hand, and a similarly marked staff of the same material in the other. She takes this staff, and presses it into your hand, whilst trying to take the child from your grip.
‘You are chief now,’ she whispers, head bowed. ‘Do as you will.’
You let the child’s hand slip from yours as the woman leads him away, towards one of the smaller huts. From it emerges another villager, shaking, but this one with not fear but rage. He turns to you, teeth bared, and runs at you. (6) His fists flail uselessly against your armour, as your hand closes around his head. Then you begin to work. (5) His body twists and writhes beneath your grasp, skin turning black and fingers stretching to claws. His legs contort to face away from his belly, and spikes of bone begin to jut from his back as his bottom jaw elongates. When you release your grip no trace of humanity remains in the creature’s soul, and all that remains of it in the body is the eerie eyes and tattered clothing. A single ashen handprint stands clear on it’s face, marking it as your creation. It looks around, and with a frightened yelp, runs into the swamps.
The men of the village approach you now, and one gestures for you to follow. They take you past the chiefs hut, where one drops a burning brand to cremate it and it’s occupant, and instead to a nearby grove. It’s rim is ringed with roughly carved stone figures, and it’s centre occupied by a deep pit. An earthen ramp slopes around the edges, descending into darkness. here one of the men speaks, casting a torch into the depths.
‘This is the ancestor’s grove. You will stay here.’ The torchlight below illuminates a side passage, and he signals towards this. ‘We did not make this. We have not seen the ones who did make this. But it is yours.’ Then he scurries away into the night, back towards his campfires.
You descend into the pit then, and reaching the bottom, enter the passage. There follows a corridor, lined with square cut stone flags, and punctuated by a number of stone doors, leading to crypts. At the far end, there is a great circular hall, and inside the inner ring of pillars, there sits a skeleton upon a throne of the same volcanic glass as your staff. It wears a crown, made of solid iron, and has the hilt of a sword clutched in one hand. Below this, on the floor, is a pile of copper coloured dust that was once the blade. The bone itself seems ready to crumble at the touch, and indeed does, hanging in the still air. Then you turn, and sit.
The next week is mostly quiet. The main moment of interest, occurring on the last day, is when a young hunter descends the ramp - the first to do so. He is followed by the scrape of flesh on dirt, and as he approaches you, he casts the creature you created at your feet, clean pierced through by a spear. Then he looks at you, almost expectant.