Erallian Campaign; Session 3

‘This place never ceases to amaze me.’ Zyrallus looked down the streets of the decrepit town of Martanya and saw, as he expected, absolutely nothing of merit. The citizens were clearly holing up in their hovels and the Royal Dwelling, assuredly garrisoning the only well fed inhabitants of Martanya, stood like a decorative palace in the distance. ‘Like a flower in the dankest swamp.’ His mind began to wonder concerning the town’s economy, about whether or not the tiniest charity from that beacon of wealth would turn the tide of this slowly dying blemish on the Erallian mainland. ‘Leave that for the thinkers, boy… Stick to the sword and treasure. That’s always been your place.’

“Okay, we’re here now. As far as I’m concerned this is as far as we travel together, but let’s hurry to the precious mayor and inform him of our little rendezvous before I make a rather glorious exit.” Arlina bowed in mock respect, nodded toward the veritable palace, and began walking again. Azreck nudged Zyrallus, looked down at the Dothrama, and smiled widely.

“She’s a rather pleasant sort, eh?” Zyrallus smiled back before proceeding. For a moment, and he knew it would only last that single instant, there was peace in his mind and heart. A gentle wind made its way through the crumbling buildings of a disheveled town, and he quite literally felt his heart rise at the feeling of it. It was, as he has predicted, almost instantly eradicated.

“Let me in! You have no busin-,”

“I have all the business I need, cur! You there! Do you know this rebellious swine?” Zyrallus saw that the royal guards were arguing with Arlina, and would have sided with them did he not need entrance. Unfortunately…

“Yes, good sir. She is a travelling companion. We are here on urgent business from Morrowshire to speak with mayor Aubreigh. If you please?” The guard looked the rogue up, then down, and then reluctantly let him pass. Lunara shot Zyrallus an approving glance, and the four walked up the marble steps before entering the meeting chamber.

It was magnificent. Stonework and masonry like none had seen, chandeliers in triplet hanging their crystal charms form the gold embossed rafters… this was the true height of royalty. At least ten plate armored guards stood in perfect unison along the crimson carpet leading to a surprisingly unpleasant man. ‘All of this for a mayor? The damn king might not have treatment like this!’ Lordacious Aubreigh sipped slowly from his wine chalice. He noticed them, but did not acknowledge.

“Good sir. We bring news of an unfortunate occurrence from the surrounding woods.” Azreck’s voice shattered the air like stained glass, and the figurative shards seemed to cut the mayor deeply. Lordacious stared at the giant without fear. He simply nodded. “Kobolds, sir. We defeated their leader after they captured us… somehow.” And then, the mayor’s stoicism wavered.

“You were kidnapped by kobolds you say? And their leader is dead? These cages, were they assembled in a small clearing?” Zyrallus nodded assent. “They are a band, you see. These kobolds once worked for a true bane to our land. A bane I thought long gone. Perhaps you can be of use, after all.”

Arlina looked entirely upset at the notion of some other quest with her three counterparts, but Lunara instantly brightened at the idea.

“Anything, lord Aubreigh. State your wish.” The winged woman bowed before him. Clearly, he enjoyed the attention.

“My daughter, you see… she was taken from me nearly a year past. By kobolds, as you say. I sent a search party to find her, and I was informed that they came upon a clearing with empty cages. They found this.” He brought a worn and blood stained royal crest from under his robes. “It was hers. I fear that she is dead, and no sign of the kobolds was found. I know that ‘he’ employed them.”

“Stop with the vague references! Who are you babbling about?” The bard, clearly, had little respect for royalty, and with it little fear for punishment.

“His name is Azanna Nightfall. I do not speak it unless I must, you insolent fool… But I know these kobolds were in his employ, and I know that he desired my daughter for reasons both political and… well, I dare not think upon it. Please. To the east there is a ruined house, and inside of it an ancient portal. There are many in the area, all leading to the Venerathan Tower. I know that’s where she was taken.”

Zyrallus held up his hand. “If you know all of this, why don’t you send a few of your best men? Clearly these guards are a tougher match than the lot of us, no?”

“Assuredly, young rogue. But you have something which I do not, something that is vital to the use of these portals. Venerathan Tower, in its prime, was a mental institution of sorts, and there was but one race chosen as worthy enough to administrate such a vital citadel.” Lunara nodded, clearly understanding. “Yes, my dear. The Fallen were entrusted with opening these divine portals, and only a Fallen possesses the knowledge to reinstate their utility. Please… I will likely never meet another Fallen, let alone one so seemingly willing to offer aid.”

Lunara’s answer was already known. Azreck nodded, and Zyrallus followed his lead. Arlina shook her head in complete disgust. “You know, Arlina, I’ve never heard of a bard as morally retched as you. Aren’t you supposed to represent charisma?” She stared daggers into the rogue’s eyes.

“You lose everything, and I mean ‘everything’ you hold dear… then we’ll talk about personality.” She held the stare a moment longer before turning to Lordacious. “Rewards, I assume?”

Azreck chuckled. “The bard acts like the rogue should… what a wonderful world.” Aubreigh smiled in spite of the mood.

“Of course, dear. Many, indeed. Simply bring back anything to signify that she was taken there… proof of her life… or death. Now go, please. The trek is long, and arduous at best.” With that, three of them bowed and four of them departed. Outside, Arlina immediately opened a rebuttal. The three other growled their disapproval, but they were greeted by nothing but a raised voice.

“I have no qualms with doing this, but I say we leave tomorrow. No sense passing up an opportunity to get some sleep.”

It was decided, and so it would be.