The Learned One
I will yet prove my worthiness to my Elven brethren. I have been in the company of the Ulranai for far too long now and require a break to ensure my morals and beliefs are still on track.
Upon arrival in Tretha, Foloshal was excited to hear that the city has the largest college dedicated to magic in the region. The city itself has no walls so we entered safely and without too much scrutiny.
“Khel, I must head over to the College and complete some research , I’m sure with the size of this institute their library must be quite vast.”
And it will help me obtain some space from that blasted Ulronai…
“Well have fun Fol, please remember, knowing how distracted you can get during your research we depart in three days time!”
Foloshal walks to the grand entryway into the college. The grounds outside are metticalously kept with greenery, plants and flowers in abundance.
“This is marvelous! Finally, a more advanced, civilized people I can confer with and compare practices. I wonder how they maintain such a great garden, there must be many staff on hand to complete the required landscaping, trimming, watering and constant labor involved..”
Surprisingly, the entrance pathway was very quiet with not a soul around
“Maybe they do all this work with magic” mutters Foloshal.
Foloshal opens the large double doors, painted white they are the largest doors he has ever seen, yet they open with the ease of a feather and with little effort.
“ahemmm, can I help you” sates an older gentlemen, spectacles on the bridge of his nose and sitting very proper like at a desk, he greets Foloshal.
“Well yes, kind sir, well met. It is with great pleasure I announce that I , Foloshal Silverleaf of the Elves has arrived at your gates to visit your library. If you could be so kind as to escort me and show me around it would be greatly appreciated”
Snickering, the Human stands up. “Well met back atcha, however, despite the fact I feel great wonder and excitement about having met you and that Foloshal has arrived at our Great College, you still may not pass”
“Why forever not?”
“First off, your not a member of our College, nor are you a magician” “therefore, you shall not pass”
“But I am an Elf, I have Song magic powers that rival your Human Sorcerous ways. I will be but a moment..”
Foloshal begins to walk past the human, when he suddenly blows a whistle. Two very large thugs from around the corner, fully armed and looking quite nasty grab Foloshal from under the arms and begin to man handle him out he door.
“You barbarians,” yells Foloshal. “this is how you treat a guest at your college?”
“NO, cuz you aren’t a guest” responds the librarian. “Now please remove yourself from our grounds and take the leaves that have fallen off your cloak with you on the way out, now be gone or ill turn you into a toad”
With the grace of a human dancer (as in none) the humans toss Foloshal out the double doors and with a resounding boom, the doors shut in his face.
“Well, this is not acceptable” “A minor setback indeed.” “lets just see how great their magic really is.”
With that thought, Foloshal begins to sing a most beautiful song. Using his Sonorous Voice and with Perfect Pitch Foloshal casts a song spell; “Threne of Chameleon” , he buckles his Elven grey mantle cloak over his shoulders. Waiting for someone to open the doors, the opportunity arises and Foloshal simply walks into the library.
The Librarian, none the wiser, continues on his business and Foloshal walks past the man with ease.
Foloshal enters the library with awe. Still hidden with his spell and cloak he begins searching up and down the aisles for the correct tomb.
Many hours pass yet Foloshal finds absolutely nothing and his throat is sore from the constant humming required. There are simply too many volumes. This research could take years.
Suddenly, Foloshal hears a voice.
“Well, well, I have not seen an Elf in this building for many, many years. You’re a long ways from Elvenholme young elf, what is your name and purpose?”
Foloshal, knowing his Stealthy, Threne of Chameleon and his Grey mantle used in a combined fashion makes him nearly undetectable by any means is shocked. He looks around, and through the other row of books he sees an older gentlemen, wearing thick glasses , whith long white flowing hair and a magicians hat smiling at him.
“Well met young elf”
Foloshal, knowing that this man must be of some power, decides that the wisest course of action would be to parley at this point and hope for the best. He walks over to the gentlemen and introduces himself.
“Hello sir, my name if Foloshal Silverleaf, nephew to the King Tirionsathymar. “
“My name is Professor Amaratis, Dugal Whistlethrrop, head of the School of Enchantment and it is a great pleasure to meet you”
“What is it you are searching for ?” enquires Dugal.
“I am searching for specific knowledge, it is of no consequence” eludes Foloshal.
“Well, rather then sneaking about searching randomly, how about you come down to my estate for dinner, we discuss what your looking for and come up with a research plan?”
Excited, yet nervous as to the mages intent, Folohsal enthusiastically agrees.
Later that evening, Foloshal approaches the Estate of Dugal. It is a city type concept townhouse with well appointed gardens and fountains. The building is in pristine shape , freshly painted eves with many windows.
“Very fancy”
Foloshal knocks on the door.
Opening the door is a young woman, wearing Yellow robes with a beautiful smile.
“Welcome Foloshal, we have been expecting you” The young apprentice moves aside, lets Fol through the door and leads him into Dugals private smoking room.
“Ahhh..well met my friend, come, join me with some great Northern leaf and smoke with me”
After enjoying some fine Elvish wine, a few puffs of pipe weed they begin to discuss the business at hand.
“So Foloshal, I once lived in Elvenholme for a short while and spent some time studying your Culture and Spell Songs. Your uncle knows me very well “
“I do not recall this, states Foloshal. “after all, I am 303 years old and much older then yourself.”
“Really? I am 560 days young and can still outrun most of the girl’s working for me” winks Dugal.
“When I was a young lad, as part of my learning curriculum I was sent to Elvenholme, established some great friends and have a deep respect for your people and culture.”
“I am very impressed. It is wonderful to meet a human such as yourself. Learned, cultured and enjoy the finer things in life”
“Yes, but we must remember the poor people, the less fortunate people as well young elf, your kind has a tendency to forget them”
“But no matter, why are you in my library? What has brought you to our college ?”
“ I seek information on a certain Rod of power” “it was made by the elves some thousands of years ago and its knowledge is long past any history books I have read”
“What is this rod named? “
“ummm, wellll…”
“Out with it boy!” Leaning forward, staring intently into the Elves eyes Dugal states
“If I really wanted to know and get this info, or meant you any harm, the matter would have been decided long ago and I would know what I want and you would be none the wiser, likely caught by our Magic Guards and wards. We are a magical college and you think you can simply slip in and be invisible with a basic spell song? Now please, you can trust me”
“Yes indeed. It is a Rod of Rulership, said to have been broken into seven parts and spread throughout the lands. This Rod was formed to hold control over all the races and their armies. Its power is unparalleled and will provide the Elves the opportunity to once again unite the lands”
After having blurted this out, Flor couldn’t quite understand why he did it. Certainly a more restrained answer would have been prudent to a stranger…perhaps there were other powers influencing his mind.
“Well, well, this is very interesting young elf. I tutored under Tirion in Elvenholme for 5 years back in my youth and he failed to ever have mentioned this rod. It must be a well kept secret.
Im glad you trust me enough to divulge such information”
Smiling broadly, the old mage adjusts his spectacles and calls out to one of his beautiful servants.
“Please bring us our food in my study, we have much to discuss and please do not disturb us, as well, please prepare the guest room for Foloshal. Have a guest pass prepared for access to the library so the old librarian doesn’t boot him out. He likely will be with us for a few weeks so give him a year pass to be safe”
Many hours later, much wine is drank, cigars are smoked and magic; Philosophy, Elven history and the history of the college is discussed along with many other topics. The trust between the Elf and Mage grows exponentially and one could say they quickly have built a strong relationship, forming a unique bond.
“Here’s what I will do, I obviously have access to rare and ancient tombs and will bring you to a secret section of the library reserved for senior staff. In this place, if anywhere, would be our only chance of finding reference to the Rod. Please, stay in my guestroom for as long as it takes, my home is your home and we will research unit we find out more of this staff. ”
“This is an incredible honor you bestow upon my sir, my thanks to you and for your help. Please, I am curious, why would you offer your resources to help me with this ?”
“I am interested in this field and anything to do with magic especially ancient powerful relics such as this. I also am indebted to your uncle for his hospitality in the past and owe him at least this favor.”
Two weeks go by, the pair work together diligently. Over sixteen hours a day spent reading tombs in the secret section of the library.
“Well Foloshal, we have searched high and low and the only information we have found is that the last known holder of this rod is Thronick, a very powerful Evil mage/warrior who lived in the Silverthorne Mountains. It is such a scary place that nobody has visited his castle since his disappearance. It is unknown if he simply became recluse or was killed somehow. This journey will be fraught with danger and once you arrive, there is no telling what Evil you may encounter”
“Well, I’m up for the challenge, and I know just the people I can ask to assist me. I will go to this tower, retrieve whatever pieces and info I can and return to you so we can study the shards together”
“Good luck young elf, and remember, don’t be too hasty and be careful, one never knows what he will encounter in an abandoned Evil castle…”
“ I take my leave kind sir. Good day”
Leaving the estate, Foloshal suddenly recalls, “ oopsss I was to return back and meet Khel and the boys three days later, what was that , about two weeks ago? I wonder what trouble they have gotten into in my absence…
Friday, August 21, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Reality Strikes
Dror had felt quite elated about his performance and how he had help Lord Khel with Lady Darlene. The elation was soon doused about 15 minutes afterwards when it suddenly struck Dror that he had just commited a crime; assault and robbery and of a noble person no less. A sickening knot formed in his guts as he realized further that he had also inadvertently reinforced the image that most people had of Ulronai; untrustworthy, criminal scum.
The sickening feeling intensified and Dror retched. He collapsed to the ground and in the silence of the woods, sobbed quietly as he lamented the fact that yet again, he had turned criminal for the sake of friendship. Why had he done this terrible thing? What was wrong with him? The only thing he truly understood was what he had done. There was no denying it, he was GUILTY..........
The sickening feeling intensified and Dror retched. He collapsed to the ground and in the silence of the woods, sobbed quietly as he lamented the fact that yet again, he had turned criminal for the sake of friendship. Why had he done this terrible thing? What was wrong with him? The only thing he truly understood was what he had done. There was no denying it, he was GUILTY..........
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
A Cunning Plan
It was a beautiful summer afternoon as Lady Darlene’s carriage made its way down the country lane. Every Tuesday, the Lady Darlene paid her respects to her great aunt Matilda who lived in the countryside just outside Bridgerton. Lord Khel had spent a great deal of time and money in the city of
Dror had been so anxious to help him with the plan and had insisted that he alone perform the dangerous parts without help from anyone else. Khel wasn’t at all sure how one person could possibly do it but Dror had insisted and Khel had gone against his better judgement and allowed it. It was risky but he really had no choice.
As the carriage rounded a corner, it was met by Dror standing in its path. Hardly an ambush really and Khel began to wonder about the wisdom of letting Dror do as he wanted and not helping him. Nothing to do now but watch….
The carriage did not slow and Khel could see the guards shouting at the Ulronai to stand aside as one of them took aim with a crossbow. “What’s that bloody Ulronai doing?! He’s going to get himself killed for sure!”
Khel saw Dror’s sword blade glint in the bright sunlight as it was drawn and he began what looked like a dance in the middle of the road. “What’s the bloody fool doing his sword drills now for? Does he think they will be impressed?” Khel could see that his plan was about to fail right from the beginning. "So much for this plan. If he dies, so be it! I'll have to figure something else out."
Dror’s bright blade flashed in the sunlight as he swooped and swung the blade in seemingly random directions, striking at invisible foes. Two of the guards fell from the carriage, the other two were suddenly slumped in their seats and the carriage came to a sudden stop as the Ulronai sheathed his sword and grabbed the horses’ reins. Dror hadn’t got within sword’s reach of the carriage and yet all the guards were either dead or unconscious.
“Nice trick.” Thought Khel as he spurred his horse over the ridge towards the carriage. “He must have used the sword drill as a diversion and then threw knives or something at them. Dror’s more talented than I thought….”
Khel could see that Dror was following through with the plan, he had dragged lady Darlene out of the carriage and was making as if to rob and possibly ravage her. He grinned as he saw Lady Darlene on her knees begging Dror to spare her. It was terribly undignified and she was stripping off her jewels and handing them to him. “Good work Dror, get her worked up so that I can come in and save the day….”
He was drawing his sword and about to give a shout as he bore down on the scene when Lady Darlene simply collapsed from fear onto the grass besides the roadway. There was no longer any need for the act so Dror simply waited for Khel to draw up beside him. Looking up sheepishly at Khel he said “I think I overdid it a little.”
“No, you did great Dror. This saves us having to do the sword fight part. No need for anyone else to get hurt. Boy, you sure killed those guards off fast.”
“They should not be dead, just knocked out for a while. You best do your part now and save the good lady.” Said Dror as he trotted towards to woods shouting over his shoulder, “I will do my part and run away in fear at the face of your mighty swordsmanship.”
Khel looked over at one of the guards, a large bruise on his forehead. He was still breathing. “How the….?” He started to say but was interrupted by the moaning of Lady Darlene. “My Lady. It is all right now.” He said. “I chased him off…..”
Arrival at Bridgerton
Dror sized up the town of
Dror had been coerced into doing the unthinkable; attempting to murder the good lord Khel all for the sake of a false friendship. The shame and guilt of this alone was enough. Khel would gladly have accepted his rightful execution for the horrible deed he had attempted. He had shamed his people, himself and everything he stood for. Instead of seeking justice for Dror’s actions, lord Khel had instead asked Dror for his help in escaping the Palantine army. As unworthy as he was Dror could not refuse the lord’s invitation. He vowed to himself then that he would redeem himself and his people by loyally serving lord Khel. It was the least he could do for the man who had shown him such grace.
It made no sense that Khel should consort with the likes of an Ulronai. Dror’s presence made the mere task of finding lodging and sustenance on their journey almost impossible. Dror had witnessed many times, heated arguments between the lord and some tavern or shop keeper, all for his sake. Dror saw the sack of gold coins (more than Dror was likely to possess during his lifetime) that lord Khel had paid the ship’s captain to take him on board. It made no sense that the lord would go to these great lengths for the sake of Dror. He was so unworthy and each act of kindness that lord Khel performed only served to make Dror more indebted to him and feel more guilty for being such a burden. Dror HAD to help lord Khel in any way he could. So far he had been nothing but a burden. He HAD to do something repay lord Khel.
Dror closed his eyes and muttered a prayer to the Gods. “Let me be of service…..”
Friday, August 7, 2009
Bon Voyage
Piercing through the muttering of the gruff sailors the young brash Noble’s voice rings out, “Let me tell you about the Ulronai”. As another voice tries to stymie his attempts to bolster the crew and instead send them floating away in a small rowboat, “Bah, we ain’ got no use for de Ulronai, Dere Dogs and dey be bad luck men. I say we heave ho this lot like flotsam.”
Khel smiled to himself at what he had originally taken as a difficult task in stamping out this mutiny but he was undeterred. In point of fact he was bolstered by the bumbling crewman who stumbled over his words and left the balance of the crew slack jawed as Khel continued, “You are possibly the greatest sailors of The Serpentine Sea and the Sea of Storms. Do you not know Red sky at night, sailor's delight Red sky in the morning, sailor's warning. Have we not smashed a bottle before setting sail? And thrown over those old pair of shoes just after launch. Do we not have a black cat on board and wear the gold hoops in our ears? Did we not all step aboard using our right foot first?”
“I tell you are the finest sailors I’ve seen. Is there anything to say that Ulronai are not like your rats. Is it not bad luck to see them leaving the ship? Eiye, I say, it is. The Ulronai is like your rats, Don’t let him leave but let him roam freely.”
The would-be leader of the mutiny turned on his heal, slack-jawed as the balance of his fellow mates were now slapping each other as braggards would do after a wonton conquest. None would now send the Rat on his way off the ship. Khel simply hoped they made it to Bridgerton without incident.
With that thought not long from the young Nobles mind and the crew still full of bravado a voice from the lookout yelled out “Sail Ho. Troubles matey!”
With a line of curses that would have curled the toenails of even the crudest of tradesmen the Captain pulled hard as the boat and crew adjusted automatically to the sharp turn as Khel and anDrok were sent flying into the gunwale. A faint cursing could be heard from the cargo holds below. The shout of “Pirates” had the ship sailing fast and hard.
Khel judged the speed of the other boat. It would not catch them. Time to bring the Ulronai up on deck.
Khel smiled to himself at what he had originally taken as a difficult task in stamping out this mutiny but he was undeterred. In point of fact he was bolstered by the bumbling crewman who stumbled over his words and left the balance of the crew slack jawed as Khel continued, “You are possibly the greatest sailors of The Serpentine Sea and the Sea of Storms. Do you not know Red sky at night, sailor's delight Red sky in the morning, sailor's warning. Have we not smashed a bottle before setting sail? And thrown over those old pair of shoes just after launch. Do we not have a black cat on board and wear the gold hoops in our ears? Did we not all step aboard using our right foot first?”
“I tell you are the finest sailors I’ve seen. Is there anything to say that Ulronai are not like your rats. Is it not bad luck to see them leaving the ship? Eiye, I say, it is. The Ulronai is like your rats, Don’t let him leave but let him roam freely.”
The would-be leader of the mutiny turned on his heal, slack-jawed as the balance of his fellow mates were now slapping each other as braggards would do after a wonton conquest. None would now send the Rat on his way off the ship. Khel simply hoped they made it to Bridgerton without incident.
With that thought not long from the young Nobles mind and the crew still full of bravado a voice from the lookout yelled out “Sail Ho. Troubles matey!”
With a line of curses that would have curled the toenails of even the crudest of tradesmen the Captain pulled hard as the boat and crew adjusted automatically to the sharp turn as Khel and anDrok were sent flying into the gunwale. A faint cursing could be heard from the cargo holds below. The shout of “Pirates” had the ship sailing fast and hard.
Khel judged the speed of the other boat. It would not catch them. Time to bring the Ulronai up on deck.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Count Thorgresh's Estattes
Khel stood in his stirrups stretching his back and rubbing his saddle sore arse after having ridden for seven days straight. Perhaps he could find some young chick to give him a rub down and more in Tretha? While the city of Tretha was not yet in view the signs of a bustling centre were already evident as wisps of smoke wafted over to the young noble time and again from the many farms that now dotted the rolling lush landscape. anDrok, Dror, Flor and Khel joined the masses that they saw gathering and walking East noting that there was now a proper cobblestone road headed towards the largest port city in the Mhendarian Palatinate.
Finally, cresting yet another of the rolling hills the spire of a few taller buildings could be made out as every step closer brought Tretha into focus. There were numerous homes in the area outside the town proper now and as the small group approached a rocky outcropping the glory of the cosmopolitan city came into view. Due East of their vantage amongst the jumble of buildings lay a branch of the Corwine River that separated the main body of land from the walled city section. At the many docs a dizzying maze of ropes, pulleys, masts and ships made for a confusing site adding to the excitement Khel felt about finally getting the port. The young noble’s eyes moved across the water and over the large stone and wood bridge that led into the city over the lifeblood of the city fixing on the two largest buildings. The one by its sheer size could only be the School of Magic, the Academy Velthune. At over two thousand years old it was home to some of the most ancient texts and most powerful mages in Turakia. Rumor had it that the School was the idea of a Wizard that had gone to Marcia to listen to Hargesh the Philosopher and his doctrines. Today the brick building stood out prominently on the East side of the city overlooking the ports and the masses going to and from the Western Bridge. The other building, newer in construction was most evidently a temple of some sort, glistening with its golden spires.
As Khel listens to anDrok complain behind him of all of the various peoples, smells and sounds the group enters the city of Tretha. The second largest city in Mhendaria, Tretha sits near the mount of the Corwine River on an excellent natural harbour. It’s one of the businest port citites in the WEsterlands, and a favourite of many merchants. The Duchesss Lusia Meralda, who rules this fief until her son Tovar comes of age and can succed his late father, has encouraged trade by keeping tariffs and money changing fees low.
Mages from all over the Wersterlands can be seen walking the streetsy as they come to Tretha to study at the Academy Velthune, a school of magic founded by the wizard of the same name nearly two thousand years agao. Academy students in distinctive gold robes are a common sight; their ivory robed professors rarer but accorded even more respect.
Finally in the Eastern sector Khel, anDrok, Florshal, and Dror settle in for the night at “Tretha’s Retreat”. A fine establishment that Khel insists upon given that he is having to foot the bill for the entire party. Their reliance on his money and resources does not concern him however. Easy come, easy go. Early the next morning as the bustling city reveals itself in it’s full glory Khel shoos out the lithe little blonde and her tawdry outfit before heading down to the Common Room to break his fast. Florshal misses nothing however and simply shakes his head and purses his lips. The job of refining these young humans from the animals they were was going to be a difficult task at best.
Smiling broadly Khel looks at Florshal and anDrok gregariously turning the wooden chair around to sit with his arms on the back, “Smile boys, we are in Tretha, one step closer to that slime bucket V and hidden from prying eyes here. Hey, Where’s Dror?”
anDrok piped up, “Hah, they refused to serve him so he had to go back up to his rooms.”
“Has he broken his fast”
“What do I care for the Ulronai? He stinks more than this bloody town. He can rot up there.”
Khel looked at anDrok as only a Lord looking upon his Squire could, “Bring him up some food, and I’ll hear no more complaints from you. I afford you latitude many others would hang for. Now go.”
Florshal looked at Khel, “I happen to agree with your Squire, the Ulronai does stink. I’m not sure what you have planned in terms of getting us to Bridgerton but I am headed to the Library this morning. I’ll be right back.” With a swirl of his fantastic cloak the meticulous elf took his leave although it would be much longer than either Khel or Flor would anticipate before they would meet up again.
anDrok, Dror, and Khel gather together later in the day after having spent the morning in quiet contemplation…or watching the young nubile women walk by depending on who were talking about when the decision is made to go see about hiring a boat to Bridgerton. After many failed attempts with the Ulronai in tow Khel comes across Captain Gofrey who, plyed with “Abondoned Farmhouse” wine agrees to passage provided the Dog lies in the cabin holds below the entire time. The ship would leave in two days.
Khel slapped his open palm on the table, “Where in the Gods names is Florshal? Stupid Elf knows we were supposed to get to Bridgerton and now the boat is leaving today!” Despite their efforts to find Flor, the Librarian at the Academy Velthune swears that the Elf was turned away.
Leaning on the gunwale of the large boat Khel shook his head as he looked at anDrok, “We had no choice, the boat was leaving, we have to get Verak. Who knows where Flor went. We had to leave him behind. At least we left him a note.”
“Yes, Lord Khel. Will there be anything else your Lord?”
“Ok, ok, I get the point Drok. Can you drop the ‘your Lorship’ stuff now, it’s getting annoying.”
“Whatever your Lorship shall want of his faithful Squire who is no better than a dog.”
“Good grief, we need to get you a woman or something…or maybe someone to beat on. Hey you may have an opportunity if this lot mutinies. Watch for it. I’m going to try and convince this lot that the Ulronai are simply misunderstood.”
Before the large Warrior, come Squire, has a chance to save his Lord from himself and his wagging tongue the fool is at balancing at the top of the prow, yelling for the crew to listen to him.
“Come Captain, Crew. Let me tell you of the plight of the Ulronai.”
With growls most of the crew turn to listen to the pompous ass that is accompanying them while anDrok takes up a more defensive position and loosens his sword in it’s sheath….this could turn ugly!!
Finally, cresting yet another of the rolling hills the spire of a few taller buildings could be made out as every step closer brought Tretha into focus. There were numerous homes in the area outside the town proper now and as the small group approached a rocky outcropping the glory of the cosmopolitan city came into view. Due East of their vantage amongst the jumble of buildings lay a branch of the Corwine River that separated the main body of land from the walled city section. At the many docs a dizzying maze of ropes, pulleys, masts and ships made for a confusing site adding to the excitement Khel felt about finally getting the port. The young noble’s eyes moved across the water and over the large stone and wood bridge that led into the city over the lifeblood of the city fixing on the two largest buildings. The one by its sheer size could only be the School of Magic, the Academy Velthune. At over two thousand years old it was home to some of the most ancient texts and most powerful mages in Turakia. Rumor had it that the School was the idea of a Wizard that had gone to Marcia to listen to Hargesh the Philosopher and his doctrines. Today the brick building stood out prominently on the East side of the city overlooking the ports and the masses going to and from the Western Bridge. The other building, newer in construction was most evidently a temple of some sort, glistening with its golden spires.
As Khel listens to anDrok complain behind him of all of the various peoples, smells and sounds the group enters the city of Tretha. The second largest city in Mhendaria, Tretha sits near the mount of the Corwine River on an excellent natural harbour. It’s one of the businest port citites in the WEsterlands, and a favourite of many merchants. The Duchesss Lusia Meralda, who rules this fief until her son Tovar comes of age and can succed his late father, has encouraged trade by keeping tariffs and money changing fees low.
Mages from all over the Wersterlands can be seen walking the streetsy as they come to Tretha to study at the Academy Velthune, a school of magic founded by the wizard of the same name nearly two thousand years agao. Academy students in distinctive gold robes are a common sight; their ivory robed professors rarer but accorded even more respect.
Finally in the Eastern sector Khel, anDrok, Florshal, and Dror settle in for the night at “Tretha’s Retreat”. A fine establishment that Khel insists upon given that he is having to foot the bill for the entire party. Their reliance on his money and resources does not concern him however. Easy come, easy go. Early the next morning as the bustling city reveals itself in it’s full glory Khel shoos out the lithe little blonde and her tawdry outfit before heading down to the Common Room to break his fast. Florshal misses nothing however and simply shakes his head and purses his lips. The job of refining these young humans from the animals they were was going to be a difficult task at best.
Smiling broadly Khel looks at Florshal and anDrok gregariously turning the wooden chair around to sit with his arms on the back, “Smile boys, we are in Tretha, one step closer to that slime bucket V and hidden from prying eyes here. Hey, Where’s Dror?”
anDrok piped up, “Hah, they refused to serve him so he had to go back up to his rooms.”
“Has he broken his fast”
“What do I care for the Ulronai? He stinks more than this bloody town. He can rot up there.”
Khel looked at anDrok as only a Lord looking upon his Squire could, “Bring him up some food, and I’ll hear no more complaints from you. I afford you latitude many others would hang for. Now go.”
Florshal looked at Khel, “I happen to agree with your Squire, the Ulronai does stink. I’m not sure what you have planned in terms of getting us to Bridgerton but I am headed to the Library this morning. I’ll be right back.” With a swirl of his fantastic cloak the meticulous elf took his leave although it would be much longer than either Khel or Flor would anticipate before they would meet up again.
anDrok, Dror, and Khel gather together later in the day after having spent the morning in quiet contemplation…or watching the young nubile women walk by depending on who were talking about when the decision is made to go see about hiring a boat to Bridgerton. After many failed attempts with the Ulronai in tow Khel comes across Captain Gofrey who, plyed with “Abondoned Farmhouse” wine agrees to passage provided the Dog lies in the cabin holds below the entire time. The ship would leave in two days.
Khel slapped his open palm on the table, “Where in the Gods names is Florshal? Stupid Elf knows we were supposed to get to Bridgerton and now the boat is leaving today!” Despite their efforts to find Flor, the Librarian at the Academy Velthune swears that the Elf was turned away.
Leaning on the gunwale of the large boat Khel shook his head as he looked at anDrok, “We had no choice, the boat was leaving, we have to get Verak. Who knows where Flor went. We had to leave him behind. At least we left him a note.”
“Yes, Lord Khel. Will there be anything else your Lord?”
“Ok, ok, I get the point Drok. Can you drop the ‘your Lorship’ stuff now, it’s getting annoying.”
“Whatever your Lorship shall want of his faithful Squire who is no better than a dog.”
“Good grief, we need to get you a woman or something…or maybe someone to beat on. Hey you may have an opportunity if this lot mutinies. Watch for it. I’m going to try and convince this lot that the Ulronai are simply misunderstood.”
Before the large Warrior, come Squire, has a chance to save his Lord from himself and his wagging tongue the fool is at balancing at the top of the prow, yelling for the crew to listen to him.
“Come Captain, Crew. Let me tell you of the plight of the Ulronai.”
With growls most of the crew turn to listen to the pompous ass that is accompanying them while anDrok takes up a more defensive position and loosens his sword in it’s sheath….this could turn ugly!!
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Count Thorgresh's Estates
Khel squinted as his eyes were not as keen as the blue elven eyes of Florshal. He scanned the horizon to the South noteing Count Anar Thorgrath’s estates in the distance realizing they were close to the Duke’s home. Soon enough the entire group however was resting comfortably telling the Duke their story of flight and now the search to find Verak.
The Duke is hospitable despite his reservations over the Uloronai’s presence but Khel is keenly aware that the aging friend of the Rennigar family and one of his favourite drinking partners (and sources of information) is nervous in the face of helping the young Lord when prying eyes could get him in trouble with his liege Lord Palentine.
Despite those reservations the group feels compelled to wait the arrival of Florshal who has remained behind at the Rennigar Estates doing some research and exploring the many books there. Keeping a constant vigil to ensure that the Royal Guard are not coming to Thorgrath in pursuit as well Florshal finally joins the group with a message from Torodac Rennigar, Khel’s Father who indicates the Renniger lands are under defacto martial law in pursuit of Khel.
With a sigh of relief Count Anar bids farewell to the troubled Lord he has counted as a good friend and confidant despite the difference in years between them.
Khel wiped his sword of the gore that clung to it like dripping sap. The bandits head that now lay crushed at his feet had not fared well in the battle. The young Lord moved to the lone survivor of the four would-be assassins that Florshal spotted long before they had a chance to sneak up on the group. “Who sent you dog? Your life is forefeit, might as well come clean at the end of days.”
Stuggling against the tight ropes that anDrok has secured him with the Assasin spits in Khel’s direction.
anDrok, ever unpredictable in such situations makes the unilateral decision to split the Assasin’s head in two. “That’ll teach ‘em to show some respect”.
A pragmatist like his father Khel turns away quickly and mounts his horse leaving Florshal and Dror open-mouthed at the quick and sudden turn of events. Florshal, more appalled at the ever increasing evidence that the rest of this party must be cured of its barbarism and Dror simply out of pitty that he had not done the same thing himself.
Alas, getting to the Southern coast of the Mhendarian Palatinate brings the group to a small fishing village. The simpletons in the town cower at the sight of the Uloronai which proves too much to overcome in negotiating passage in a small boat to Tretha. Son of a B…A frikkin’ horse trip to Tretha. Determined now more than ever Khel starts formulating a plan of attack. Ever the schemer he discards the thought of hiding the Uloronai till the last moment in negotiating passage (hopefully on a bigger boat) in Tretha. Little does the young Lord know that the elf and Uloronai will test his subtle tongue and his resources in ways he has yet to imagine.
The Duke is hospitable despite his reservations over the Uloronai’s presence but Khel is keenly aware that the aging friend of the Rennigar family and one of his favourite drinking partners (and sources of information) is nervous in the face of helping the young Lord when prying eyes could get him in trouble with his liege Lord Palentine.
Despite those reservations the group feels compelled to wait the arrival of Florshal who has remained behind at the Rennigar Estates doing some research and exploring the many books there. Keeping a constant vigil to ensure that the Royal Guard are not coming to Thorgrath in pursuit as well Florshal finally joins the group with a message from Torodac Rennigar, Khel’s Father who indicates the Renniger lands are under defacto martial law in pursuit of Khel.
With a sigh of relief Count Anar bids farewell to the troubled Lord he has counted as a good friend and confidant despite the difference in years between them.
Khel wiped his sword of the gore that clung to it like dripping sap. The bandits head that now lay crushed at his feet had not fared well in the battle. The young Lord moved to the lone survivor of the four would-be assassins that Florshal spotted long before they had a chance to sneak up on the group. “Who sent you dog? Your life is forefeit, might as well come clean at the end of days.”
Stuggling against the tight ropes that anDrok has secured him with the Assasin spits in Khel’s direction.
anDrok, ever unpredictable in such situations makes the unilateral decision to split the Assasin’s head in two. “That’ll teach ‘em to show some respect”.
A pragmatist like his father Khel turns away quickly and mounts his horse leaving Florshal and Dror open-mouthed at the quick and sudden turn of events. Florshal, more appalled at the ever increasing evidence that the rest of this party must be cured of its barbarism and Dror simply out of pitty that he had not done the same thing himself.
Alas, getting to the Southern coast of the Mhendarian Palatinate brings the group to a small fishing village. The simpletons in the town cower at the sight of the Uloronai which proves too much to overcome in negotiating passage in a small boat to Tretha. Son of a B…A frikkin’ horse trip to Tretha. Determined now more than ever Khel starts formulating a plan of attack. Ever the schemer he discards the thought of hiding the Uloronai till the last moment in negotiating passage (hopefully on a bigger boat) in Tretha. Little does the young Lord know that the elf and Uloronai will test his subtle tongue and his resources in ways he has yet to imagine.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Flight to the Rennigar Estates
Khel jumped into the saddle as his squire anDrok smiled knowing that the young Lord was suffering the after-effects of a night of over-indulgence. Spurring their horses cross country the small eclectic group must seem strange to those farmhands who briefly looked up from the crops and animals they were tending to note an Elf leading well dressed humans and something else that raised the ire in most men. The Uloronai named Dror.
Florshal’s cross country pass was effective as the group quickly overtook the Palatine Royal Guard. Or so the Elven eyes were said to see.
Taking the lead at the head of the column now that they were in sight of the city’s main gates the guards bowed ever so slightly as Khel stormed through on horseback directly to his fathers estates. As the lather from the dripping horses still dripped the young lord blurted his story out to his father.
“Dad, I screwed up Royally this time….literally, there was this chick, Lady Elicia, nice looking. Count Villar helped introduce me the traitor. My charm won her over but I get up to the room were supposed to…uh…have late night tea in…and there she is dead. Before you can say “setup” I was hauled off as her killer and I swear I had nothing to do with it. And then this Uloronai gets hired to kill me but ends up rescuing me but I stupidly went to the apartments and had to escape with a couple of my friends, this Uloronai named Dror…and now the bloody Royal Guard are on their way here because I’m on the lamb as it were.”
Khel’s fathers, Toradac face was flushed in anger as his son shrank into the plush leather chair that sat opposite his father’s oak desk. His mother had always tried to convince Khel’s father to get rid of the large albatross of a desk that looked like it had seen better days but now that Khel’s mother was dead, his father would not change a thing in his home, most especially the desk.
Slamming his heavy fist into the desk Toradac bellowed “I will rip out Villar’s guts for this one….or did you kill him…I would have killed him by now…but you probably knew better. How long do we have before we have to get you out of here?”
Once again surprised by his father’s pragmatic approach and protectionism he showed Khel the young Lord answered stoically, “Sorry Dad, wasn’t able to get to Villar…but I do know which of his staff set me up Verak. He’s supposed to be in Bridgerton. I may head there after lying low for a while. Do you think it’s safe to head down to hide out at Count Thorgraths?”
“To be sure my son, best you head there soon! Be wary, Villar will be looking for you as well. You could certainly be his undoing if you can provide proof that he set this up. He must be feeling the moves you were making in allying the Lord Palatine’s courtiers with our cause. Come, let us see you with fresh supplies and on your way.”
As the two men walked down one of the long halls filled with large slate slabs Khel’s father’s brow lowered in concern as he lowered his voice to admonish Khel, “Really, an Ulronai. Are you sure about this character? They are the dogs of the Palatinate son, hopefully you are simply going to leave him by the roadside as soon as you are done…Now about our plans to bring about some Royal changes…”
Florshal’s cross country pass was effective as the group quickly overtook the Palatine Royal Guard. Or so the Elven eyes were said to see.
Taking the lead at the head of the column now that they were in sight of the city’s main gates the guards bowed ever so slightly as Khel stormed through on horseback directly to his fathers estates. As the lather from the dripping horses still dripped the young lord blurted his story out to his father.
“Dad, I screwed up Royally this time….literally, there was this chick, Lady Elicia, nice looking. Count Villar helped introduce me the traitor. My charm won her over but I get up to the room were supposed to…uh…have late night tea in
Khel’s fathers, Toradac face was flushed in anger as his son shrank into the plush leather chair that sat opposite his father’s oak desk. His mother had always tried to convince Khel’s father to get rid of the large albatross of a desk that looked like it had seen better days but now that Khel’s mother was dead, his father would not change a thing in his home, most especially the desk.
Slamming his heavy fist into the desk Toradac bellowed “I will rip out Villar’s guts for this one….or did you kill him…I would have killed him by now…but you probably knew better. How long do we have before we have to get you out of here?”
Once again surprised by his father’s pragmatic approach and protectionism he showed Khel the young Lord answered stoically, “Sorry Dad, wasn’t able to get to Villar…but I do know which of his staff set me up Verak. He’s supposed to be in Bridgerton. I may head there after lying low for a while. Do you think it’s safe to head down to hide out at Count Thorgraths?”
“To be sure my son, best you head there soon! Be wary, Villar will be looking for you as well. You could certainly be his undoing if you can provide proof that he set this up. He must be feeling the moves you were making in allying the Lord Palatine’s courtiers with our cause. Come, let us see you with fresh supplies and on your way.”
As the two men walked down one of the long halls filled with large slate slabs Khel’s father’s brow lowered in concern as he lowered his voice to admonish Khel, “Really, an Ulronai. Are you sure about this character? They are the dogs of the Palatinate son, hopefully you are simply going to leave him by the roadside as soon as you are done…Now about our plans to bring about some Royal changes…”
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