The Green Asp strikes

Khel grabbed the arse of the young serving wench that kept sidling past him on every occasion, accidentally brushing up her ample bosom across the back of the young Nobles head. The young girl turned her young face, framed by a mane of wild blonde hair and smiled at Khel continuing on her way to the next table. It had been a week of travel and separation from his squire anDrok but he could still hear the impertinent youth speaking his mind and reminding his Lord not to trust women. Khel smiled, not for the young woman or her wanton wares, but for the embarassement that he could cause his squire if he were here. He would have set upon reminding the young anDrok that despite his protestations of not trusting women he was less immune to their loins than his Lord once they had set their claws into him. Khel took perverse pleasure in knowing he could have likely influenced the young girl into fawning over his squire as he left the Inn just outside of the Vladryan Bridge.

Khel ran his hands along the ancient stone lamenting that he was leaving his homeland. The Dwarven hewn stone had seen many great leaders and battles. To Khel the Vladryan Bridge was known for a great battle in 924FE that saw the new Prince Dekran of Iluria turn after crossing the grand bridge to face thousands of Drakine warriors with but a few hundred knights and warriors of his own. That single momentous battle was a turning point giving Dekran time to escape, make his way to Cyradon and be crowned emperor.

The road wound easily but steadily upward towards The Stone Tree which marked the western edge of Fellburg. Khel had been near here once before but had never visited the most holy of Druid’s sites in all the world. Approaching closer Khel dismounted from his horse whose hooves seemed inordinately loud on the cobblestone road. The Druids of the Stone Tree as they were called encircled the great tree protectively as the young noble and Ulronai approached, themselves feeling the awe and reverence that the tree commanded. The Stone Tree was a living, growing tree similar to an ancient oak but made of stone. The trunk and branches were grey, granite-like stone with leaves, known as leafstone that were highly sought after. The Leafstone while green in the summer would deepen to a red, yellow, or gold in autumn before falling. Many Druids and followers had been gifted the special talismans of protection and luck that were coveted by all.

It would be a few days yet but the small group could see the castle that was the capital of Fellburg. Fellburg, or High Fellburg had once been an independent grand duchy but had been beholden now to Thurgandia for nearly 1,500 years. The House of Mandelhar, the dukes of Fellburg no longer were much concerned however content to rule their farmers, hunters, and sheperds from Gothar Grenn and collect tax revenues to fill their coffers. The current liege-lord, Duke Lambrett, was more concerned with collecting beautiful paintings than concern himself with the art of war, often hiring adventuring groups to bring him long-lost paintings or books. So much was his disdain for the military that he had asked his fiery spirited daughter, Vanda to take over the paltry forces that he had let deteriorate.

Khel noted the guards that snapped to attention as he and Dror neared the castle proper as the last foray here the young noble could have easily gone straight through to the doors of the castle without having been challenged. Stating his name and purpose Khel yet again had to vouch for the Ulronai and be responsible for his actions.

It had been weeks now and Khel continued to ride out with Vanda’s guards in the morning, practising his swordsmanship, riding and long bow skills now that he had the time. He knew that establishing connections in Gothar Grenn was taking time away from the travel he knew they must eventually undertake into the mountains to the North but they still were beholden to the Elf for his guidance in leading them to the Rod.

Chopping violently at the oak practise post Vanda’s Master of Arms, Telren, approached with two wooden swords. His smile was unmistakable despite the violent scar that ran from his right eye through to his chin, plainly visible through his coarse salt and pepper beard that refused to grow where the skin still bulged angrily. “Hah, Despite your best efforts I think the post wins yet my Lord”.
Grunting as he worked his sword free of his latest chop that had embedded itself deeply into the grain of the wood Khel replied, “Damn thing. No matter how many times I scorn it this post just won’t yield It’s just like that damnable Lord Victor Villar.”
“Ah yes, my Lord. You then aware that he is in Gothar Grenn to visit yet again are you not?”
“Damn you man, say again. Victor Villar is Here?”
“Yes, my Lord and quite taken with riding with my Lady Vanda if I hear tell correctly. They’ll both be at dinner at the Dukes table tomorrow evening. As it so happens I believe Count Villar and Lady Vanda expect you as a Rhennigar noble to attend as well.”

Confused at the presence of Count Victor Villar, the young Noble considered the reasons why the Count and Vanda would actually want to see him. Surely, Victor knew that he had captured his charge Verak and was seething to exact his revenge on the Duke. It made no sense.

Count Victor Villar stroked his grande moustaches as he saw the young Rhennigar Noble enter the room. He had been trying to convince the Lady Vanda to enjoy the sweet music from the exquisite musicians in her father’s permanent employ and dance with her among the many paintings and finery. Fully expecting Khel to come straight over and confront him the Count smiled knowingly as the young noble let himself be led astray by many of the young women looking to sink their barbs into young Noble flesh such as his. No doubt Khel was looking to sink his barb into their young flesh as well, if only for an evening or so. Walking over the Count placed his hand gently on the shoulder of Torodec Rhennigar’s son Khel, “Well, why don’t we give the beautiful young lady a rest my friend, shall we. I believe we have some things you wished to discuss.” Admonishing himself guiltily Khel turned to the Count with murder in his eyes.

Khel ground his hands together in frustration as his head felt ready to explode for the pressure. Not only was he not going to be able to exact his revenge, he had now put anDrok directly on the path to destruction. It had taken only a few moments to realize that the story that the Count now had the opportunity to relate to Khel was true. Verak had left the services and protection of the Count to take up a position with Lord Halvorn. An unusual move but one that Khel now understood fully. His enemy was, and always had been the Lord Halvorn.

It was over the course of the next month that Count Victor Villar began to see the man behind the Noble in Khel Rhennigar and decided to share his secret. The Asps would count the Rhennigar’s as a friendly family given Khel’s beliefs and while it had taken the month to convince him of his intentions the leader of the Green Asps, Count Victor Villar had convinced the young noble that his crusade to recover the Rod of Rulership would serve both the Rhennigar family purpose and that of the Asps. The Asps believed that an Emperor was needed as well but to send Khel back to try and redeem his name and lands in front of the King in Cyradon would be a fools errand at best and suicide at worst. It would allow some seeds that were recently sown with the Lady Darlene to grow as well which would certainly work to the Counts advantage in manipulating the young Rhennigar to the Asps bidding.

Khel looked over at the Count and Vanda as they spoke of some of the other items concerning the Asps. The green ring he now wore would indicate he was a member of the secret society along with the Green Asps unspoken motto but he had yet to learn beyond a few hooded individuals who the “friendly families” were. Knowing that he was not to be party to the discussion Khel turned his mind towards the trip he would be taking North in pursuit of the Artifact. It had been a long time since the Ulronai had shown his ugly face around, claiming everything from a sore back to working as excuses but it would be time to leave soon with or without his squire or the Elf. Some information first on the lands to the North however would certainly help him. He wondered if there were any beautiful women in the scollarly ranks that Duke Lambrett had on hand. If there were.... he was sure to find them.

A Typical Ulronai Wagon

Ulronai Camp

Hagen-- Home of Duke Halwynn

The trouble with money

While in town, Dror was determined to try to repay Umak the money his father owed to him. He quickly found a job with a caravan and with Lord Khel's permission he left for a time travelling with a caravan. The trip was uneventful and after 30 days Dror was able to return to town with 5 Gold Crowns to his name. Still not enough to pay Umak, but a start.

He considered going to Umak immediately with the partial payment but decided that it would be best to come to him with the full 20 Gold pieces in payment. Discussing his situation with Lord Khel on his return, the good lord offered his services to Dror to help him with doubling his money.

"It will be easy Dror. I know a good gambling hall. You can have your money multiplied several times if you are lucky. Maybe even have some left over for yourself when you are done. I've done this before and I'll help you pick a good sucker that we can ply with liquor. Once he's good and drunk, it will be easy to take, er win his money fair and square."

It sounded like a good idea and so inspite of his better judgement, Dror soon found himself in the gambling hall and shortly therafter leaving with his entire 5 gold crowns gone.

"By the God's!" said Khel as they left. "I've never seen a man drink so much. It was like he got more sober as he drank. Sorry Dror, I tried. Hey let me buy you a drink........."

Dror took on a job in town hauling bricks at a construction site. After a week, he threw his back out after he tried carrying too big a load. He now had only one gold crown to his name and was laid up in a bed (if you could call it that) for a while at a rat infested inn near the docks.

One night as he lay sleeping the city guard entered the inn looking for "That dirty Ulronai" and found him lying in his cot. "The Duke has instituted a tax on all Ulronai in the city. It's your duty to pay our lord his fair due."

Dror considered the situation carefully. Four city guards vs. him with a bad back and only his hunting knife handy. His sword under his bed would be of no help. He could probably take one or two of them down but the room was too small to manuever in and his back was a liablity. He handed them his last gold crown and rolled over.

Broke again.

A Debt Owed

As the adventurers arrived at Hagen, Dror noticed a small caravan with perhaps 50 Ulronai camped just outside the city gates. Excusing himself from Lord Khel for a time, he visited his kinsmen for the rest of the day, participating in a meal and staying with them for an evening of dancing and fellowship. It had been a long time since he had been amongst his people and while he was with them, he felt a momentary release from the regular oppression that he had felt from other peoples he had met during his travels. Perhaps, he mused, that this was the way he should live, amongst his people but then he remembered his duty to Lord Khel and pushed the thought aside.

There was an elder among these Ulronai named Umack that he approached. Perhaps he could tell him something of the legend of the Bloodlock that he had heard elsewhere. "Greetings Uncle, I am Dror Shraga. I am indebted to your for your hospitality."

"Shraga? Your father is Dram?"

"Yes Uncle....."

"Well you are certainly indebted to me then. Your father owes me 20 gold Dracmas."

"I am sorry to hear that and my father has passed on some years ago."

"Yes I know and I am not impressed with your family Dror. It seems that none of your family is interested in repaying the debt owed." The old man stared at Dror, expecting a reply.

"Uncle, I am embarrased. I have no money that I can give you....."

"That's the same excuse your cousin used. The whole lot of you are useless! Shraga, you are not welcome here. I am not interested in extending you any more hospitality. You know what needs to be done."

"Indeed Uncle. I am in town for a while. I will see what I can do to repay the debt."

"Your cousin said the same thing last time I saw him. I never saw him again. Get out of here you useless excuse for an Ulronai!"

I hate boats!

anDrok rocked back and forth trying to mimic the movements that the young deck swab had shown him. Down here in bowels of the ship where Verak and he were stationed however the perpetual dark mustiness, accented by the pungent smell of sweat and puke had the Rhennigar squire spilling his guts. The first day had been bad to say the least. anDrok cared little for his prisoner now for he felt that he was going to die as his mouth burned with the simple yellow bile from his empty stomach.

Day 2 aboard the cursed ship and no relief was to be found for the weather had turned violent and now as anDrok lay with his body prone on the planks of the rolling ship his pale face plastered to the floor as the salt caked the side of his face from the water that would now and again spill through from somewhere in the darkness above. Seeing the rugged but small bare feet of a true sailer standing over him, Pip the young swab poured some fiery liquid into the side of the squire’s mouth. “Here, we call this Grog. You Nobles might call it rum but out here it’s still Grog.”

Sapped of energy anDrok felt the dark liquid trickling down from his lips to the path down to his innerds. “My thanks to you Pip but while yesterday I felt I should surely die.”

“Are you better today?”

“Today I simply pray that I will die! I shudder to think what that Grog of yours will do when it comes back to land on the floor as it will inevitably do.”

“What of your friend, how does he fare?”

“No friend of mine is he. A prisoner of sorts.”

For the first time in many hours anDrok sat up peeling his salty cheek from the floor while still feeling the wrenching burn of both overused muscles used to wretch and the better feeling of rum in his empty belly.

Whether the rum or his curses to the skies anDrok felt a whole lot better. It was day seven of their journey as the squire looked out to see the flags of Hagen flying in the distance in their approach to the eastern harbour. The sailors were earning their keep moving about, the creaking rigging and sun blistered ship like flies on a new kill. The ponderous anchor hit the water with a resounding splash pulling a large chain down to the bottom of the harbour with it. The Rhennigar squire looked around for his charge mentally berating himself for being so mesmerized by the workings of the sailing vessel. It would not be long now he thought. A quick stop in Hagen to re-supply and then a few days up the Southern Alahadrion River following Lake Lusarra to Cyradon....then the work would begin to have Verak sing like a songbird. Shit. Verak. Where was he?

anDrok grabbed the scruff of the hunched over sailer who thought he might be first to board one of the boats over to the city of Hagen, “Not so fast Verak, it will take more than just a bit of subterfuge to get away from me!”

Not knowing that he was foreshadowing fate Verak and anDrok moved through the town on their way to saddle up for the ride to Cyradon. It had been difficult to garner all the supplies given the Rhennigar squire’s affiliation with Khel. Turning the corner to the stables two powerful looking men blocked the road looking directly at anDrok, “Let the vermin go. He’s ours now”

Looking around anDrok pulled his sword as he realized that two more were coming in at him from behind.

As anDrok lay bleeding onto the flagstone he cursed the sailing vessel that had left him weaker than he should have been. While he had injured each of the four would be assasins quite grievously he had still gone down before finishing the job. Now who would want Verak? This was strange as someone with many a gold “Dolar” as they referred to them in the Palatinate, would be behind this.

Sitting up in bed the young squire finally felt up to searching for his escapee. It had been a week since they had landed in Hagen and it was now time to ignore the pain that still throbbed in his side and figure out where this slimy snake was.

It had taken another three weeks but anDrok finally had found his prey. The gruff looking man in front of anDrok wiped his grease laden hands on the sides of his apron which did to clean them or the filth that lay caked on the seams of the abused clothing. Placing a thick finger in one ear to itch it casually the cook looked at his pinky now adorning an ochre coloured chunk. Flicking it casually he looked at the Noble in front of him. “My Lord, you must understand that I am but a lowly cook in the service of Lord Halwen. I know nothing of some vermin named Verak that would be newly come here.”

anDrok pulled his sword slowly from it’s sheath allowing the eyes of the grimy cook to take in it’s sheer power. “I will chop you up into hash and throw you into that pot if you don’t tell me what I want to know. It will likely improve the taste of the filth you serve.”

Scratching his stubbled chin the cook gave anDrok the information he needed.
“Finally”, murmured the squire, “Verak in the dungeons of Lord Halwen.” What would Khel have me do now?

A Noble in Exile

Khel bid anDrok good luck and safe travels, “Fare thee well my friend and squire both. You’re loyalty is appreciated and will not be forgotten.”
anDrok shuffled his feet... he was staring down at them in embarassement in front of both the elf Foloshal and the turncoat Ulronai, “Sir, I should have protected you better from the filth. I swear that I will bring in this criminal Verak and ensure that the Lord Palatinate recognizes your innocence in this affair with the Lady Darlene. Some Lady, the beautiful wenche’s loins are probably wet each night with a different man’s seed.”

Khel removed his worn glove slowly and then violently smacked his Squire, “Get you gone, I’ll hear no more of such talk. She may be all that you say but she is a Lord none the less and is to be given the respect she deserves...plus..who knows...I may have sired an heir.” With a peal of laughter the young Noble let his squire scramble ungainly across the gang plank to the large vessel waiting to take them to the port that would still see much overland travel to Cyradon. anDrok may have looked imposing with rippling muscles pulling his sword but the sight of him crawling like some beast at the fair to where Verak was chained was laughable at best if a bit comical for the waiting trio.

Khel thought back over the last couple weeks and all that had happened so quickly. Everything had gone according to plan....they had convinced the Lady Darlene that Khel still loved her, albeit even he didn’t know whether that was true or not. Dror had scared the vixen out of her wits and Khel had come in for the rescue. Then the idot Ulronai made his big mistake, he stole the beautiful Lord’s jewels...no that wasn’t the mistake actually...that would have been fine with Khel...it was the fact that the Ulronai felt guilty afterward and confessed. Now that was stupid!!

The chain of chaotic events that followed was one for a Bard’s lewd tales in a smoky tavern as the Lady Darlene found out the truth and accused the young Lord of raping her.
What a farce. The joker’s court that ensued would hear nothing of the fact that they had copulated at least a half dozen times that evening...well maybe only twice but this is my lewd tavern story afterall...Lord B would hear nothing of it after being convinced by the plunging cleavage that Khel was guilty. Now an exile he could not even claim his heradic rights now that his father had been killed.

Torn with conflicting emotions the young noble had not pulled out all the stops to ensure his innocence. Events had conspired against him as news of his father's death had come while preparing to defend himself....It was small consolation that they had not found Lord Torodec Rhennigar's family signet ring. It meant that it had perhaps not yet fallen to his, as yet, unknown enemy. It's power would help him bring justice to the assasins.

First however he was determined to get this rod of rulership with Foloshal. Certainly it could be used to overthrow this current government. More than ever Khel was convinced that the country needed an Emperor...and not one fabled to return....at some later date. North and East to the mountains that held ancient secrets...an adventure first...then Revenge!!